They Hated Him For Telling The Truth Novels & Stories

she had seen a very dark look cross his face when he just started to talk but it had disappeared as it came. He was obviously very reluctant to say what he said. He might have thought so much about it before deciding to just share that little story with her but people hating on him when he was younger? Because of his hair or for some other thing? She stared at his face again and sighed. She knew he had just told her they hated him because of his hair because he still didn't want to tell her what they really hated him for. Her man had obviously gone through a lot that he just couldn't decide to share everything to her like it was some sort of a little stuff and now, she started to feel very g

I said in a calmer tone. He sighed, moving closer to where I sat, “I just… they already hate me and now, this... this is going to solidify their hatred or something,” I muttered. I grabbed his waist, pulling him into my lap, “They hate you, they love, that shouldn’t be your problem. Okay?” I hissed. I hate how he was so strung out from being lied to by these people, his emotions are all for me, I wanted to growl that into his head.

A life of duty was a life without choice, wasn’t it? “The truth is,” I choked the words through my half-closed throat. “The truth is, when I found out who you really were, I hated you. I hated that you’d picked that life before me, before us. I hated that you could even think of being a part of that.” He didn’t say anything. Didn’t protest, didn’t turn angry. His dark eyes softened with something like sympathy or maybe understanding. “After what happened with my parents …” My words trailed off to a whisper. “My parents were killed by the Mafia.”

He asked, “There’s no more to it, I was banished as I said earlier hence you met me at the desert” I couldn’t remember the words I said to him earlier so I wrapped my head around the basis of my lies. One thing I hate about lies is that I’m not good at it and when the truth unfolds it would be disastrous. “Ok if you say so, I hate lies and one thing I hate about them is the consequences the teller faces” He chuckles as I put a smile on my face.

" He said, clenching his fist. "What did she say?" I asked with curiousity. He chuckled, "She...she..." He trailed off, face palming himself. "Do you know that I hated you at some point?" He asked. "I hated you believing you were blackmailing her. She came to me, told me she didn't want you, she didn't like you and whenever you touched her she thought of me instead. Stupid lie but what did I do in the end? I forgave her and I planned on ruining you." He lamented.

Just fucking how? “But I can promise you, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm completely irritated by your presence at the moment. Something has blinded me such that I can't stand the sight of you” He spat calmly, as though he didn't just indicate that he hated that he still loved me. My eyes bulged in realization, he didn't hate me for betraying and hurting him, he hated himself for not being able to hate me or hurt me in return despite it. He hated himself for loving me, just as I hated myself for hurting him.

He started but I couldn't quite point a finger at what he was talking about. “I humiliated you on purpose,” he said, and every word seemed to cost him. “I called you out in front of everyone, I made you cry, I made you hate me, because I thought if you hated me you’d stay away from me and if you stayed away from me then no one would connect you to me and no one would start asking questions about your blood.” The snow kept falling. “You thought hatred would keep me safe,” I said slowly, testing the words. “I thought hatred would keep you alive,” he corrected. “Because being alive and hating me is better than being dead and loved by me.”

It automatically left my mouth, "He'd have never brought me here, or even looked back at me if he had even the slightest bit of disgust stored for me because of who I am." "That's your misconcep—" "He definitely pours all his hatred for me, he makes me go through hell each and every day, he hurts me, bruises me.....but he is not disgusted with me. He is not ashamed to have a mate like me, it's his hatred for the bond that makes him act this way to me." I found myself saying, "You are saying what you'd like to hear and I am saying what is truth" "You can't make every lie a truth." She spat.

I would let him. Because honestly, even I am tired of convincing myself to not hate him. Not anymore. I would not have to convince myself of it anymore. Because now I do. Not for the end he brought me but for the pain he caused my parents. I hate him for putting my friends through all the shit of helping of him. I hate him for all the lies he sprouted and I hate him for all the promised he made, which, he clearly could not keep. I gather the remaining of my courage and wiped the tear stain from my cheek as I looked him dead in the eye before speaking, "Do it, then." His eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“No, if that were true, they would have known. I would have known.” His lips curled into something sharp, something almost cruel. “Would you?” I clenched my fists. I hated him. I hated him for marking me, for making my wolf betray me. I hated him for throwing this revelation at me like it meant nothing. I hated him for always knowing how to unravel me. But most of all, I hated that deep down, something in me believed him. I shook my head, forcing my voice to steady. “You should have told me.” King’s gaze darkened. “Why?”