Twisted Loyalties Novels & Stories

Awoooooooooo! I'm a fairy and he is a werewolf, loving each other is a big mistake. What we have is a twisted fate.

Eric feeling guilty at what had transpired between him and Sandra divided he would wait for her response to the letter he had written to her, the contents which read as follows: "My dearest Sandra, I'm so sorry for what transpired between us. I enjoyed every bit of the time we spent together. Please believe me when I say I did not take advantage of you. I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I will not enforce myself on you as a sign of respect. Please let me know what you decide. I love you already"

Claire’s heart twisted painfully. Stay? Leave? Could she trust him? Could she trust herself? The choice loomed before her, vast and terrifying. But for now, she only leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope. Even if it was dangerous. Even if it was foolish. Because sometimes, hope was all you had left. ---

He prowled like a caged predator, his frustration and anger radiating in waves that rippled through the gathered wolves, making their discomfort painfully evident. Elder Elric, who had been a steadfast supporter of Elric, now stood at a precarious crossroads. The weight of his loyalty began to haunt him, questions gnawing at his conscience like a relentless wolf. “To what end is my loyalty? Am I truly doing what's right? Does Alpha Caden see me as essential, or just as a tool to wield at his convenience?” The thoughts consumed him, the memory of Elder Thorne’s fate a constant specter in his mind, relentless and tormenting.

Seeing how much I liked him, Dad reached out to the Twilight pack to discuss an arranged marriage. But after I was abducted and my face temporarily disfigured in that fire, Easton had heartlessly broken off the engagement. It wasn't until I got engaged to Andre that Dad—hoping they'd value and cherish me—offered the Twilight pack a stream of trade deals. That was how the once insignificant Twilight pack rose to power so quickly. I knew the Twilight pack would neither give up those benefits easily, nor would they let me go without a fight. But I also wanted to make them regret everything they had done to hurt me.

And deep beneath the city, in the place where memory is made and history is unmade, the old oaths trembled. Because some blades never dull. Some wolves never stop watching. And some loyalties, once sworn, last beyond the end of queens and the fall of kings. The wolf had returned. And the world would never sleep quietly again

I'll like to see how that courage and hate will turn into lust for me". Elara's eyes fluttered shut for a second, trying to block him out, but the heat of his body, the scent of blood and wine and that dark cologne, pressed in on her from every side. She felt the rough pad of his thumb slide slowly up and down the column of her throat, not choking now, just stroking, possessively, like he was petting something he already owned. Her pulse jumped under his touch, traitorously fast, and she hated how loud it sounded in her ears. "I'd like to see how much of me you can take in your tiny throat"

His gaze swept over me, sharp and precise, cataloging my failings, my distractions, the betrayal that had already begun to poison the empire we all had built. “Adrian,” he began, his voice calm but lethal, “I need you to understand something clearly. Loyalty isn’t measured by words. It is measured by actions, by decisions, by the consequences you allow to unfold. And yours…” He paused, letting the weight of his judgment settle over me, “…are unacceptable.”

'But in this Court, we judge a man by his loyalty to the Crown, not by the stories told in taverns. 'Loyalty is such a flexible word,' Valerius mused. He reached out and picked up a dark red plum from a bowl on the table. He turned it over in his long fingers, then squeezed. The fruit burst, dark juice staining his palm like fresh blood. 'Sometimes, loyalty is just a mask for survival. I wonder, King Thade, if the wolves in your garden are truly tame, or if they are simply waiting for the gardener to fall asleep.' He looked at the Vorns again, a mocking tilt of his head. 'I hear the scent of wet fur is almost impossible to wash out of tapestry. A shame. This room is so very beautiful.'

I say calmly, “is correction.” He laughs once, sharp and humorless. “You always thought you were better than me.” “I think differently from you.” “You’ve wanted my life since we were kids.” I almost correct him. Not his life. Just one part of it. But truth has strategic value only when timed correctly. “You misunderstand motivation,” I say instead. “And you misunderstand loyalty.” The word hangs. Loyalty. Marcus has always defined loyalty as endurance. Staying even when neglected. Remaining even when dismissed. He expected Lydia to wait forever.