Loyalty Pawn #2 Novels & Stories

I’m not a pawn. They want me to believe I’m a piece to be moved, a bargain to be struck. But I’m starting to see the truth. If a pawn survives the entire board... she becomes the most powerful piece on it. I smirk, sliding the coin into my pocket. I head upstairs, not bothering to look for Julian or Mason. The next afternoon, Mason’s convoy rolls into the city. He’s traveling in a three-car armored formation, his elite enforcers bristling with weaponry. It’s a deliberate show of force—a message to Victor Aldridge that the High Alpha of the West Coast is done playing games.

“You see? This is why she needs to stay outside of your reach.” Varian’s gaze locked onto hers. “Outside my reach, she dies.” The words cut. Too blunt, too real. Liora steadied herself against the counter. “Then promise me one thing.” His silence was its own challenge. “Promise me she’ll never be a pawn,” she said. “Not in your games. Not in your war. Not ever.” Varian’s eyes, storm-flecked gray, didn’t flinch. But his answer came low, deliberate:

I asked, shoving his palms away and pointing the gun exactly at his flaccid dick. “Don’t bloody say a word! You lied to me! You’ve been lying all along! This sure as hell doesn’t look like meeting with Paolo at the docks… except, oh wait, Gia is Paolo, and the shipment would be the pizza ordered and waiting to be delivered now, is it?” I asked again, with a smile—although my tone lacked any humor. I pressed my hand on the trigger, anger crashing into me in waves. “Fuck! Baby, chill. You weren’t supposed to find out this way…” Macini spoke.

The idiot was oblivious to everything—even my own contempt for him. Felix was simple-minded. A fool who believed what I fed him—promises, power, favor. He truly believed I would grant him land and slaves once we won. He didn’t realize he was already mine. His loyalty had a price, and I paid it in lies. He was a pawn. A muscled and lustful one—but a pawn nonetheless. There was a knock at the door. Three, loud strikes. The precise rhthmic rapping of the Night Crows.

“There are people that look up to you. This pack. its members. They trust you. and that's why they have not sided with your father. but me, Ryan. You have lost me!’’ He pulled something out from under his shirt—a code of honor, our pack's symbol of loyalty and dedication— it was like a breastplate, Only just a tiny one that fit in his pocket. it was given to him when he took his order and pledged loyalty and allegiance to me and to the park. he stared down at it as a dent in his fingers. and then he looked back at me and there was no longer the same kind of loyalty in his eyes. There was pain, there was hurt and there was disgust.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the drip of water from the pines. "I swear," he whispered finally. "I swear fealty to Luna Selah." I sheathed my knife and turned my back on him—a calculated risk, a display of absolute confidence. "You'll serve a year in the border patrol. If your loyalty holds, you'll earn your place back. If it doesn't..." I glanced over my shoulder. "I'll know." He nodded, head bowed. The tension dissolved like mist in sunlight. My wolves cheered, rough and raucous, slapping each other on the back. Cain's warriors relaxed, their grins feral. I walked back toward my mate, my heart pounding, my body thrumming with victory.

“Time’s up.” I rose smoothly from the chair, brushing down my dress as if I’d just finished a casual brunch date. I adjusted my scarf, hiding my face once more behind the oversized glasses. Before I walked out, I leaned close to Rave one last time. “Remember, darling. Loyalty is the only currency that buys survival in this game. Spend it wisely.” Then I turned on my heel and left him there, seething, cuffed, and powerless. As I stepped back into the sunlight outside the station, I exhaled slowly.

His eyes darted from me to the money, gleaming with greed. “Will that be enough?” I asked calmly. “Yes, but…” he trailed off, licking his lips as though testing how far he could push me. I brought out two more wads and slid them across to him without breaking eye contact. Silence stretched between us, broken only by the heavy rhythm shaking the floor beneath our feet. “I suppose we have a deal, Mr…” I let my gaze drop to the metal badge pinned crookedly to his lapel. “…Henderson.”

His visible black eye fixed on mine. ​"You agreed to be a pawn, Luna," he corrected. "A pawn must know how to move, or it is useless. I need a silent, obedient figurehead who will weep over my 'disfigurement' and make the King's envoy happy. You will play your part perfectly." ​He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy velvet box. He pressed a button, and the box sprung open. Inside lay an antique, silver-linked locket. It was beautiful, old, and strong.

He looked at me surprised, “I just told you that I am not forcing you to pledge your loyalty to me.” “And that is why I am pledging my loyalty. I am not a fan of someone trying to force my hand. Now that it is an option and not a demand, I am willing,” I smirk, “I, Willow Michelsen do hereby pledge my life and my loyalty to Alpha Ronan Wilkes and to the Blood River Pack.”