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Hatred was not his strongest trait, regardless of what motivations inferior humanity ascribed to him. He did not release Raven's hand because he hated her; he did not kill the humans who shot her because he hated them. His hatred had died years ago with the man who killed his mother.
No, he did not hate humanity. He was disgusted by it, by its weakness, its frailty, its blind bigotry, its very inhumaneness.
Erik stared at the trembling chess pieces before him and laughed without humor. He would find Raven again, blue—"perfection"—for they would never be only human.