Hatred Novels & Stories

She said to my face. "If I hypothetically was to fail, what do you think I would think of you ?" She shrugged. "You didn't like me in the first place, probably you might realize that there's nothing about me to admire." Hannah must hate herself. If she didn't she might have noticed that things are different than a month ago. I don't hate her like I used to, I tolerate her and it's despicable because it was my pity for her situation that caused it. She didn't feel pity for all the people she's murdered. But why do I suddenly pity her ?

“She had motive, anger, and the guts to pull something that twisted. And if it wasn’t her, she damn well knows who it was.” My back hit the wall behind me. I pressed against it, shutting my eyes just for a second. Because deep down, my instincts had whispered the same thing. Alex’s hatred had never been simple. It had never been just dislike—it was obsessive, sharp enough to wound. The kind of hatred that might bleed into something darker. Zarek leaned closer, the cocky glint in his eye dimming to something rawer, sharper. His shoulder brushed mine, his voice pitched low like the corridor itself might be listening.

she sneered. Her twisted words seemed to hang in the thick, musty air, lingering like a shadow that wouldn’t dissipate. They echoed softly, bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit room, filling the space with a dark, venomous promise. It was as if her voice itself carried the weight of her hatred, every syllable sharpened by her resentment. Loleng felt the power of her own spite surge within her, fueling her resolve. For years, she had harbored this bitter fire, allowing it to fester and grow, until vengeance became as much a part of her as her very blood. Now, her hatred had found a purpose, and she wouldn’t rest until it reach

The little one was quiet, too quiet, and a fresh wave of panic, hot and sharp, threatened to overwhelm me. But beneath the fear, an emotion began to burn hotter than anything else. Hatred. For Julian. For his stupid arrogance, his petty ambition, his gut-wrenching betrayal. For Silas. For his monstrous, twisted vengeance, his casual cruelty, his unforgivable crimes. For their arrogance in thinking I would break. That I would simply lie down and wait for my death, for Calix's death, for the death of all my hopes and dreams.

My words hung heavy in the air, a warning wrapped in a promise that seemed to amplify the tension in the clearing. But Maya remained silent, her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. Her eyes bore into mine, holding a mixture of fear and something else—a burning hatred that caught me off guard. And then she spoke, her words dripping with venom, "I hate you so much." I couldn't help but chuckle, the sound low and menacing. Her hatred was a bittersweet reminder of the tangled web of emotions between us. The corners of my lips curled into an evil smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the complex power stru

It left my mouth before I could stop it. "But I do," He spat, I could feel how heavy his breathing was that gave away the signs of his awaking anger, "I want to keep hating you and I'd make sure that each day my hatred for you increase to the point of no return. And I want you to know, that you should be praying that I keep hating you because my hatred is what is keeping you alive. My hatred is what is safe for you, my devotion isn't." "I won't give up."

Things were different now. The anger and hatred seething in my heart were relentless, consuming every corner of my being like a fire that refused to die down. It wasn’t just a fleeting emotion; it was a storm brewing within me, dark and unyielding, pushing aside any remnants of the person I used to be. Each thought of her and what had transpired stoked the flames further, feeding a bitterness that felt as if it had been etched into my very soul. It was an unbearable heaviness, pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. The hate wasn’t just directed outward—it was a reflection of the betrayal, the humiliation, and the helplessness I had endured.

When my real parents found me and I discovered that I was a legitimate heir all along who should’ve been living a privileged life, I hated Micah for stealing the wealth and glory that should've been mine. "Then, I learned you took Nancy's wealth and privilege too. I couldn't help but see you as being just like Micah. I felt an instinctive hatred toward you. It was as if despising you was the only thing that would make me feel like everything was finally right in the world. "A real heir should be with another real heir, so I moved in with Nancy. Beyond that, it was also because Nancy was my first love, the one I could never have. She left me for Micah all those

“Admit it.” She shook her head, tears blurring her vision, a silent battle raging within her. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I hate you.” He smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips. “Good. Hate is a powerful emotion, *cara*. It keeps you alive. It keeps you sharp. And it makes this all the more… interesting.”

A man so close to Vladimir must share more than loyalty, perhaps even friendship. "So, you show me respect only because of your closeness to the Alpha?" I pressed. Craig’s gaze remained firm on the road. "No. I lived through the invasion, as did everyone else. The Risemoon pack wounded us deeply. The sight of you still stirs that wound. My blood does boil in your presence, yes, but yours boils just as fiercely when you see us. Old scars, fresh scars. They are no different. To hurl hatred would only reflect what I don’t wish to see mirrored back. Respect, at least, is fair."