Hate Me

Silence. All he received was silence. The questions poured from him, one after another, each with space for her to respond… and silence. Silence, and yet with every second he saw her fur rise higher and higher with restrained anger. What was wrong with his questions? What was wrong with her? And when she finally answered, when she finally spoke, her words simply reaffirmed that something was beyond wrong. That what she said had nothing to do with what he meant. He didn’t mean in the least what she just spat out angrily. It wasn’t until the next flurry of words that she actually addressed what he meant, and that was when his ears pressed as far back as they could possibly go.

It was also when his heart and breath nearly stopped. He’d been trying to ignore it, trying to ignore what he knew in his heart had happened. That his mother and Mercy had fought, and that left him torn between two conflicting worlds. He didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t seem like he needed to say anything. She went on, and he simply listened, not understanding why she was so damned angry. Why should she be asking him that question? He didn’t need to wonder long; she answered his silent question quickly enough… accusing him of telling lies.

He growled low in his throat, not loud enough for Avalon to hear, but distinct to himself. Lies? He had told no lies! Her words after that made him stiffen, and it was the anger in him, the confusion, the upsetness, and the frustration that once again granted him the ability to place himself on lockdown, and abruptly his face smoothed of everything but cold steel, despite the inner turmoil. Lies? What did Mercy mean - him, a better alpha? What the hell happened between them? This… this guilting that his mother was doing. A bad mother? What the hell led her to that conclusion? That entire thing. Why? What? He didn’t understand - what had led her to believe that anything such as this were thoughts in his mind? They were not, though he doubted her and thought that her decisions regarding Vereux were stupid.  But what did that have to do with anything?

He stiffened. How she was repaid? Him - follow in the footsteps of betrayers? And what the fuck was wrong with Mercy? Walking over her? Since when had he ever done that? She was full-on calling him a traitor. And for what? Talking to Mercy?

He felt hurt, and it was a struggle to keep it from showing, but he clamped it down. Anger overpowered it; the anger at being called a traitor. Anger at being told that Vereux had done nothing, and he was no better than what Vereux had done to Katja and Yfir. “If,” he growled low in his throat, his voice tight and controlled, “that is what you think I am, then perhaps I am better off in the company of a wolf that does not accuse me of being a traitor with no evidence. If this is how things are supposed to be, then I want no part in what Ivalice stands for.”


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