Words Made From Traitor Novels & Stories

"The Family always protects its own. But Vincent, if someone betrays the Family, the consequences are severe. You understand that, right?" "I understand. I would never betray the Marconi family. And I would never betray you." He looked me right in the eye, as if he truly believed every word. That's the most dangerous thing about liars. Eventually, they even manage to lie to themselves. "Good," I said, raising my wine glass. "To our future." "To our future." The clink of our glasses sounded like a promise. The promise of the perfect revenge.

I recall his twisted face, his heated words, and his trembling voice, trying to sound brave and prophetic. The traitor’s last words “It’s already begun.”

She arches a thin gray brow. “Traitors,” Fireside affirms, apparently oblivious to the new weight in the air, the sizzle raising the hairs on everyone’s arms and legs. “What else would you call those who flaunt the natural order? Who rise against their alpha and seek to sow disorder and discontent? What other word for those who place their selfish interests above the unity and good of the pack?” The witch replies softly, but I have no doubt she can be heard at the very back of the hall. “Oh, I would call such a male worse than a traitor, and I would say to him that his time is coming, for him and all his ilk.”

Although I knew he didn't expect to hear it, "I trusted you." A knot formed between his eyebrows upon hearing my words and that motivated me to explain further. "You asked me earlier if I would ever trust you. If I would ever look at you without bringing our past into it." I mumbled, "I trusted you today. When you promised me that you'd bring me out alive, I trusted you. No matter how doubtful I was about the odds being in our favour, I knew that I could trust you with my life."

“It’s mine, too. And as Luna, I have every right to decide who stays and who goes.” The traitor laughed breathlessly. “You think you can banish me?” “No,” I said, “I think you already banished yourself.” My power surged again-more gentle this time, yet undeniable-lifting dust off the ground and swirling it into a tight, controlled current around us. “You broke your oath. You put the pack in danger. You fed information to our enemies. That is more than betrayal. That is treason. And then the traitor opened his mouth, maybe to deny it, but I didn’t give him a chance.

“I really don’t. But you’re tempting me. Every second you stay silent, you’re tempting me.” The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, so low I almost missed it, he muttered under his breath, “I despise traitors.” The word landed like a slap. He yanked the door open and stormed out. The slam echoed down the hallway, sharp and final. I sat frozen on the bed, with my knees drawn up, and sheet twisted in my fists. Traitor. The word kept replaying in my head, louder each time. Traitor.

Then he sighed. "He's a traitor, My Alpha." His voice carried obvious disapproval. "After everything he's done, are we really going to promise him freedom?" I met his gaze calmly. "Aaron." "Yes, My Alpha?" "Do you know what I hate more than traitors?" He shook his head. "Not knowing who is pulling their strings. He's just a pawn in his game. Letting him go won't hurt us in any way. Maybe, he came out to be useful to us.

“One by one. I don’t care if they’ve sworn loyalty for years, if even one of them so much as flinches under questioning, I’ll know.” Roman nodded grimly. “I’ll handle it.” His tone promised broken bones if he had to drag the truth out of them himself. I paced to the far end of the warehouse, the echo of my boots bouncing off the walls. This wasn’t the first time someone slipped through the cracks. The delivery man had been freed under our noses just enough to attack me, and now Erin. Both times, it pointed to the same ugly truth, there was a traitor in my pack. My chest tightened, rage flaring hot and bitter. I hated traitors more than rogues. Rogues at least had the guts to stand against us

The scene required the traitor to talk his way out, to stand inside the villain's scrutiny and hold still long enough for the lie to become something that passed for truth. The script called for begging. Voice breaking, eyes down, a plea so layered with manufactured vulnerability that the villain would mistake desperation for honesty. I read the sides three times the night before. Then I closed the script and sat with what I knew about this character. The traitor was not a coward. He wasn't a villain, exactly. He was someone who had been making small compromises for so long that the original position — the place where he'd started, the thing he'd once believed — was no longer visible from wh

"I came here to talk about our marriage, Bette, but it seems there's no longer any reason to discuss it." I stepped in front of Ashe and shot back, "Oh my God, you finally get it! Good! Now let's mutually agree never to show up in each other's lives again!" Emil gritted his teeth. "You'll regret this, Bette." I crossed my arms and sneered. He had no idea what true regret felt like. True regret was giving him all my heart and soul, only to be repaid with betrayal, disfigurement, and death. "You'll see." He shot me a murderous glare before walking away.