Your Worst Sin Is That You Betrayed Yourself For Nothing Novels & Stories

Most days, anyway. “Do you ever think about minding your own business?” I mutter. “It’s not in my job description,” he quips, turning to leave. “Two hours, Rex. Don’t be late.” When he’s gone, I pick up the gun again, but my focus is gone. My hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm façade I wear like armor. I think about Shane—my best friend. The one person I thought I could trust. He betrayed me, and I still can’t bring myself to think about how. His betrayal still burns like an open wound–too fresh, too raw–but his betrayal taught me a lesson: trust is a luxury I can’t afford. I shove the thought away; that’s not today’s battle.

She disappeared down the road. It was too late for regret. Regret meant nothing when it showed up after the damage was done. A month passed before we heard about them again. Lyris lost a leg in the crash. The baby she had abandoned during her escape—her own child—died alone at home from starvation. She was found guilty of treason for siding with the rogues and betraying her own kind. The judges of the Kingdom of Volvia sentenced her to death, carried out with the harshest punishment allowed.

“You have less than thirty minutes until I go live to the world. And if you think that kid lover of yours will really help you, you’re deceiving yourself. Desperate men are loyal only to the next breath. He’s already betrayed everyone else. What makes you think you’re special?” “Do your worst,” I spat, and stormed out into the blinding sun. The drive home was a blur of white-hot rage and cold, creeping dread. Do your worst. A brave, stupid thing to say. She was Giselle. Her worst was an art form. Her words about Leo echoed in the empty car. He’s already betrayed everyone else. He had. He’d betrayed Maya. He’d betrayed me the moment he told me his name was Mike. But I had the proof. I’d seen

And the worst part is, I can’t take it back. Images of Seline fill my mind. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me with love and trust. The thought of her finding out about this tears me apart. She betrayed me once, yes, but my betrayal is far worse. Sleeping with her best friend isn’t just wrong, it’s unforgivable. I grip the sink, my knuckles white. My breath comes out in ragged gasps. “What have I done?” I whisper, my voice cracking.

For once, I am going to be selfish and give up my only chance at happiness since everything I touch turns to shit. I betrayed my pack. I betrayed my family. I almost killed my mate. These things show how untrustworthy I am; Dimitri Volkov, the traitorous Gamma. A hollow feeling settles into my chest, and I breathe in the pain, so it sinks into my bones. I deserve this; I know I do.

Jean finally began to say. "Adelard trusted you too. He told you more than anyone else. But what did you do? What?" "I didn't do anything wrong to you. Really?" "You know what the worst thing in this world is? It's the betrayal of a man who has always trusted and believed. Jean, you knew it would turn out this way."

For Edwin’s sake, for my own, and for whatever small hope remained that I could still find my way back from this darkness. As I looked out over the city, I felt a strange mixture of resolve and despair. The past few weeks had been a descent into chaos, into truths I’d rather have never uncovered. But now, I knew what I had to do. I had to be honest. With Edwin. With myself. Because if I couldn’t do that, I’d have nothing left, no integrity, no future, no redemption. And that, I realized, was the greatest betrayal of all.

I thought I was doing the right thing when I took that job. Becoming more rich and putting my name on the top richest chart was what I wanted. But now… now I have lost everything that matters. I betrayed Reina. Not just with that night I can’t erase, but with every lie I told to cover it up. I thought I could protect her, shield her from the storm I had created. But she saw through me, she always does. And Andrew… God, what kind of example have I set for my son? Tears burned my eyes, and I didn’t fight them. I deserved this. The shame, the guilt, the fear. I deserved to feel every ounce of it.

I don't want them to know the truth, I don't want them to know that I am scared, scared of what will happen if I can't put an end to this war, scared about what will happen in the future, scared of what will become of me the moment the circles find out what I've done. I betrayed everyone for my selfishness, but I don't regret it, maybe I will regret the fact that I might not be able to restore the Paradise to its previous glory like I promised to aunt Evelyn, but I'm afraid that if I'll stay longer than needed then I will lose my mind. Since I can't stand this place, not because of the white and all these rules. But because I'm afraid that one day I might hurt someone and all those memories

Selfish. Ungrateful to the place that had sheltered them. But now, look, they are blaming each other as if they are the victims of betrayal. If today’s events had not been uncovered, surely it wouldn’t be them crying here, but the people of this Northern Tribe who would face the consequences of this selfishness. She did not criticize the one who had betrayed his comrade, nor did she praise the one who had been betrayed and thus confessed all his sins. This was originally a sin.