Novel & Cerita Eyes Of Hate

"Seeing that the ground was filled with the bodies of her clans, and also the blood that had already dyed the entire continent red, the woman's eyes slowly turned empty." "Augustus, how can you do this to me? How can you?!" It was the first time that the woman had pointed a knife at Augustus. There was no more warmth or love in her eyes. Only anger and hatred could be seen. "Dear, listen to me please."

“No. Don’t ‘Sienna’ me. You’ve been avoiding me all day. Hell, I don’t think you’ve looked me in the eye once.” He finally met her gaze then, and for a fleeting second, she saw it—something dark, something conflicted, something **hungry**. But then it was gone, replaced with cold indifference. “This conversation is unnecessary,” he said dismissively, standing. She shot up from her chair, blocking his path. “The hell it is.” His jaw ticked. “Move.” “Make me.” Something flickered in his eyes, a dangerous edge that sent a shiver down her spine. But she refused to be intimidated.

the commander told her bored, before returning with her eyes on the other witches. The woman looked up full of hatred at the commander, tears continuing to run down her cheeks. The girl turned her head towards her, feeling the woman's hateful gaze. Doreon saw the glacial expression of the girl crouching in front of her, her elbows resting on her knees and her sword clutched in one hand. The commander bent her head to the side looking the witch straight in the face. The eyes of the commander were completely black and pulsed along with the veins of the face, while the red irises gave off flames.

A DARK ROOM. A figure sat on the bare ground, his head facing the ground but the loud panting and groans from him could be heard and were so loud that they covered the whole room. He was breathing so heavily as he slowly raised his head up, bone cracking sounds could be heard as his head raised and when it was finally up, a pair of totally blazing red eyes that seemed like hell itself could be seen. And in those eyes, laid extreme pain, anguish and above all, hate.

"If you don't want me to say it, then don't proceed with the donation." "Alright," I answered. Jordan's expression soured. "Hazel, what the hell do you mean?" I smiled weakly. "I still want to behold the world with my eyes. Can't I do that?" Pursing his lips, Jordan stared at me with a gaze as deep as the abyss. "Say that again." "I don't want to give her my eyes." Without a moment of hesitation, Jordan slapped me harshly.

“No. You’re not going to war, Zayn. For Goddess’ sake. There will be no war!” “Because you’re going to, what? Row a boat to the veil of KiloKilo and offer yourself up? Is that your plan?” He’s furious, too. I can see it in his eyes, which are so bright right now I can see every slice of color making up the bluish-hazel hue that seems to be unique to only him. Like a master artist took a paintbrush to his eyes but couldn’t decide if they should be dark or light and decided on both. Now, those eyes are raging, emotion honed on me, his pupils contracted to mere dots of black.

I drew closer and noticed that he was as white as snow. His Spartan shoulders stood out. It convey mighty strength and pride. His thin lips kept moving as he chewed slowly. He was truly the definition of beauty. No wonder women fought to have him. Their struggle was not for a ugly being. By the way, no one was ugly. Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. When our gaze met, I was disappointed with his eyes. They were as red as strawberries. He did not look happy. The coldness I felt from his touch yesterday made me wonder who he was.

He had to remind himself to open his eyes and glare his hate at her, but many a time, his eyelids acted on their own, shutting the light out, wanting to savor her in the deep darkness of his soul. Her eyes were having an agony of their own. Whenever they closed him out of her sight, a strange fear poked the inside of his guts, he was afraid that she was about to dissolve between his arms, so he would pull on the hair that was helplessly tangled within his fist, demanding they open up again and acknowledge the hate his own eyes were screaming at her, he wanted her to hate him only as much as he did, but when her eyes were not shut, they showed him only her pain.

“I want her to see.” “Open your eyes!” He orders in his Alpha tone and in my weakened state I can’t even fight it. My eyes fly open meeting his, in that moment as I see him positioned with his head near her pussy a new emotion builds, hate. It must show in my eyes because I swear he flinches slightly before diving back down eating her pussy. The pain I feel has tears building in my eyes.

Those weren't his eyes—not the ones I remembered. They were narrowed, pitch-black pools of pure malice, blood from a gash on his forehead trickling down, giving him an almost demonic appearance. My breath caught in my throat. Those eyes held no recognition, no humanity—just a bottomless well of hatred that sent chills racing down my spine. My chest heaved with rapid breaths as terror gripped me. This wasn't just an accident; this was attempted murder. The moment clarity struck about what had just happened, I screamed with desperate urgency, "Alpha Nate!!"