Beaten But Not Defeated Novels & Stories

Defeat stood clear on the scoreboard. Yet the fixation lingered on. From inside a cell, revenge still had paths. One step at a time, they’d feel it too. Somehow.

"You’re awfully confident for someone who barely held her own four years ago." Amelia let out a soft, knowing laugh. "And you’re awfully bitter for someone who should be used to losing by now." The slap caught home. Beatrice's lips squeezed together hard, nostrils flaring slightly. "This isn't over," she whispered, voice less loud but full of menace. Amelia tilted her head. "I never said it was." Beatrice spun away, walking fast with purposeful steps. But Amelia saw the tremble in her fingers.

Weakness. It was creeping in. And soon, they would fall. I smiled. The battle wasn’t over yet. But my victory had already begun.

I fucking didn't see her attack, I just felt my bones breaking till I could no longer endure the pain. There's no way I'm winning this, I'm definitely losing. I'm too weak, too weak to beat anyone. I'll never be able to beat Faye, I'll never be able to successfully win a fight against Alec and I'm most definitely not going to get strong enough to have my revenge at this rate.

He declared, determination filled his voice . The possibility of a rematch with Liam fueled his intentions, especially after the brutal beating he had just endured a while ago.He had faced numerous opponents throughout his life, emerging victorious in every encounter. However, facing Liam proved to be something very unexpected and different. The loss, the relentless beating, it was something he couldn't fathom or accept. The burning desire for redemption burned within him, pushing him to seek another confrontation with Liam and reclaim his standing among his masters.

By me. But not by him.

At the same time I was sobbing. “That's easy! Look. All you have to do is this, but you’re acting weak. I've been telling you this for a long time, you’ll never win against them if you’re always like this,” he yelled at me. “You will not beat them. I’m telling you, you can’t beat them. “But,” I said defiantly. “I didn’t lose. I won. I already beat them.”

I have not lost control in longer than most of the people in this clearing have been alive, and I will not lose it now, in front of witnesses, over a setback. A setback. I hold the word carefully. That is what this is. Not a defeat. Not an ending. I have dealt with setbacks before. I have dealt with worse than this. I have taken worse than this and built something stronger from the wreckage of it, and I will do so again.

giving more emphasis on the specific word. He got smirking at me and uttered, “Don’t be so happy thinking you have won. It’s not the end.” I sat on my chair and spoke up calmly, “Well, I haven’t faced the defeat yet and I guess God is up to something otherwise the devil wouldn’t try this hard to fight me.” The smirk from his face got faded away in no moment. Nonetheless he tried to get uttering but I didn’t let him. “I play to win whether it’s just a practice or a real game.

I felt like I was giving it my all at the time. “So to win the match,” Beau says, “All you have to do is somehow never get hit or caught, while delivering enough quick, light blows to damage a werewolf. Oh, and also, do it all while maximum speed the entire fight, knowing he’ll likely outlast you.” “It seems like you’ve already written me off as I failure,” I say. None of them deny it. It rankles my nerves. “I deserve a chance to prove myself,” I plead. “This is that chance.”