For the Hate of God

I hate…and…like?…her at the same time

Kandreah’s POV

He should have been mine!

She should have been mine!

I rummaged through my memories yet again bitterly while we were breaking through sewer-like passages of Oribus and advancing to Damnarynth. But no, a mere fae king was not good enough for the ambitions of her mother. I remember the last day we spent together. I remember the passion and love we shared that last night. I remember the sorrow that was suffocating and the tears in Minthe’s eyes when she left me. My Brother and I forbade interspecies bonding since then.

Her mother, Sentaya, decided to go against what had been foretold by destiny and to sever the sacred bond between us. We were destined mates. She disregarded that, marred and severed our bond with black magic and offered her to Hades to pursue her dire and greedy ambition to climb up in the hierarchy of Wengarthria. She thought that Hades would crown her daughter to be his rightful queen, his royal counterpart. And what did he do? He humiliated her with the role of a concubine. She served him as a mistress for centuries, and then he cast her away as if she was a meaningless nobody when Noosha came into the picture. If she were mine as she should have been, I would have worshipped her as the true nymph that she was. Her boy, no, he should have been our boy. He would have been my rightful heir. The fae kingdom would have been in the palm of their hands. Now, everyone is looking at Marcellus as an illegitimate prince of the underworld, bastard child of Hades. The rumours of her torment came to me too late. I couldn’t save her from Noosha’s wrath, but at least she lives in the boy. At least I saved him. I knew that she would want me to do that. I know that wherever she is now, she is grateful to me for saving her son from Noosha’s wrath.

When Noosha heard that Hades saved Minthe by stealing one of the runes from her grimoires and turning his concubine into a mint plant, she was seething. She sought revenge. She wasn’t happy with how Minthe’s torment ended. I have heard all the gory details of Minthe’s last days and what Marcellus went through watching it. It ached me more than it would hurt if I were the one tormented. But that didn’t make Noosha satiated. She wanted Minthe’s blood, tears, excruciating torture, pain and demise. I couldn’t do much to protect her from this. Wengarthria was off the hook for me. They were too strong for Faes to attack. I did what I could. I couldn’t protect her in Wengarthria in any other way but to go to Hades. I knew that he would not allow Minthe’s torture. When she found out that I had informed Hades of her ill intentions, her wrath was redirected towards me. And that is how I became the first vampiric fae in history. She cursed me to be thirsty for blood as much as she was thirsty to spill the blood of the only woman that I ever loved.

My curse, Minthe’s plight, and her untimely death were the beginning of the end of the united kingdom of Faes. Several centuries later, Thersar, my twin and I had a clear cut between light and dark fae kingdoms. I became the bitter, angry, vengeful and bloodthirsty creature everyone knows today. I became a killing machine that everyone knows and hates today. I have lost it all. Dark fae kingdom was under my rule, and Thersar was generally ruling over light faes, except for a few necromancer faes who remained devoted to him and decided to remain under his rule. And they have saved themselves from the gory destiny of being cursed by becoming bloodthirsty demonic faes as I am. Over the centuries, I was turning my subjects one by one into the same monsters that I was. Each time, it would start with the same pattern. The hunger for blood was unbearable. Their fairy blood would sing and seduce me until I didn’t give in and suck the last drop of their blood. Then, a guilt trip would cut through every piece of soul that had remained in me, and I would turn them into the hybrid fae vampiric monster that I am. This would be my way of seeking apology, penance and redemption. I would do that to redeem myself for having their blood on my hands. They would then become the same monsters as I was, respecting me solely for being their creator and ruler but hating me for making them the same bestial psychopath that I was. I knew Thersar knew of this, and he probably felt greater disgust towards me than I felt for myself. Still, in those rare occasions we met in the past few centuries, he would never mention that. And now, this is the first time in millennia, since the day of my damnation, that we have fought together for the same goal. Love for Minthe had cost me a lot. It made me the monster I am today. Hate is what drives me now.

I want them all to suffer a million times more than Minthe did. I want their blood. I want them to suffer for every tear and every smidgen of pain she endured. And Marcellus…I sighed internally thinking of the poor boy….he might not be my son, but Minthe lives in him. That’s why he is important to me. He looks just like his mother. I may not be his father, but I’m hellbent on protecting this boy. I know his existence irks Noosha more than Minthe’s existence did. I know that she has plans for Yordareen to sit on the throne of Wengarthria, no matter how incompetent he is. The day when I protected Marcellus from certain death by Noosha’s hand gave me a feeling of doing justice for Minthe. It felt as if I was protecting his mother, something that I should have done way better than I did a long time ago. So call it fondness, call it fatherly love. I want to pay respect to his mother by protecting him. This is at least one right thing that I can do in this excruciatingly long existence of mine.

Marcellus POV

-Two days before the fall of Oribus-

-At Avesta dungeon-

It’s official. I am a f*****g lost case.

What do I want?

I thought I wanted the little minx to be fried and tormented in every imaginable way for eternity in Wengarthria.

But it turned out that the person who suffered the most from her torture was me. With every second of her torture, I relived my own trauma and torture that my mother suffered in front of my eyes. And she…She recuperated and looked better and stronger than ever…I? I, on the other hand, am weaker than ever…I am a greater weakling than I was when warriors stomped over me over a millennia ago. Greater weakling than I was when they raped my mother in front of my eyes. Greater weakling than I was when they conditioned her to take her own life to save mine. Yet another woman was tortured in front of my eyes. Aralyn. And instead of giving me the satisfaction I sought, it just brought me additional misery. Every second of her pain felt like a knife stabbed and twisted into my flesh.

It lingered in my thoughts as a menacing warning that haunted me and ate me alive while I was here, bound and shackled in the bed in the dungeons of my mind. Every figment of physical and emotional torture that she went through got back to me a millionfold, scorching and morphing me inside out. And she endured it all and faced me as a phoenix who rose from ashes glistening in all its glory while she fried my sorry ass out. I am the f*****g son of a devil. I should be the one at the top of the game in here. And the little girl, abandoned by everyone, hated by her father…beat the s**t out of me and made me feel the feelings that I wasn’t even aware I was capable of feeling. She, like every other woman in my life, brought only pain to me. And the most annoying thing is that I hate…and…like?…her at the same time.

-One day before the fall of Oribus

Naevres POV

I have been watching him screaming and writhing in pain for days now. I don’t know why, but the armour Sentaya made in the dungeon when Norgarth had been brought here several weeks ago is getting weaker with every second. Could it be because of the rumours about the attack on Oribus? The dungeon 34 will soon become visible to everyone if something doesn’t change. The good thing is that I am finally back on my feet and can tend to Marcellus and Norgarth. Norgarth is still in the comma but seems stable. I guess it is just a battle with time now. He should be awake very soon. Marcellus, on the other hand, is strange.

He had somewhat physically recovered and almost healed.

Yes, he was severely battered, but given that he is the son of the god of the underworld, he should have already been awake. However, it seems some mental block is stopping him from waking up.

In the middle of those thoughts, I felt the snap of Sentaya’s shield. Sentaya is obviously concentrated elsewhere, as she is not reinforcing the shield. The next thing I heard was an uproar and ruckus in front of the dungeon. I turned to look at Norgarth, and he abruptly opened his eyes, gazing frantically to get a sense of space and time, I guess.

The next scene that unfolded before me was Noosha with Conrad and his sleazy bastards breaking into the dungeon.

Norgarth wheezed while sitting up on the bed, but soon I saw him mustering all the energy he had in him and standing up in the fighting stance, protecting comatose Marcellus. There are not many of us, just Norgarth, myself, and Marcellus’ most faithful warriors and friends: Lennox, Quinn, Taylor, Kendrick and Lothar. Noosha and Conrad came with over fifty warriors here. And these are the best ones in Wengarthria. I do hope Marcellus is going to wake up. We have slim chances without him.