Conan Races Novels & Stories

Now, as we stood before the mansion's main entrance, Nathan proposed a simple solution to settle the matter once and for all - a race from the car to the entrance door, a distance of over 100 meters. I hesitated, my piercing blue eyes narrowing as I considered the challenge. The compound was vast, and the distance was considerable, but it was the added twist to the race that made me apprehensive. Nathan's eyes gleamed with mischief as he revealed the dicey rule - we would have to compete without our daylight rings, leaving us vulnerable to the sun's rays.

A few council members exchanged glances. It was easier for them to accept something like that. Contained. Public. Spectacle instead of war. But I understood exactly what it was. A trap dressed as entertainment. “Do not agree to this,” Thor said quietly. “His racers are not ordinary. They are professionals trained specifically for high-risk terrain competitions. This is his domain.” I already knew. Ronan’s racing units were not casual riders. They were elite competitors, trained, conditioned, and familiar with every track his territory controlled. He was offering a game he had already mastered.

I wasn’t surprised to see Candi with the three boys because before I moved, she always stuck to them- especially Tyler - like glue, but I was quite surprised to see Lana with them because the both of us along with one of our friends, Asia, used to be a clique. When I moved to London, the three of us still talked a lot but after three weeks, Lana completely ghosted me. She stopped talking to me, blocked my number and blocked me on social media. I had been worried that I had done something wrong but I found out that she had stopped talking to Asia too and she started hanging out with Candi and her crew.

With clenched fists and gritted teeth, he braces himself for the starting signal, ready to push his limits and prove his worth. The third competitor, Jay Nashville a wild one with the bustling passion to win this race, radiates an air of mystery and unpredictability. His car, modified and adorned with neon lights, stands out amidst the sea of contenders. His reputation for daring maneuvers and audacity overtakes precedes him, adding an element of intrigue to the race. As the starting lights ignite, the race erupts into a symphony of screeching tires and roaring engines. The competitors propel their cars forward with lightning speed, their headlights piercing through the night, creating a tra

Halfway through placing our orders, Marco leaned forward. “We’re going to a race tonight,” he said, eyes glinting. “Alexander’s racing. You coming?” Before I could even think, I nodded. Fast. Too fast. Everyone burst out laughing. “You must like racing,” my roommate said, her voice warm with amusement. I kept my eyes on the table and gave a soft, “Yeah.” But that wasn’t true. I hated racing. The loud engines, the smoke, the way everything blurred past too fast to breathe it reminded me too much of the night my brother died.

Malia frowns deeply. Conan raises his glass, smiling wolfishly. "Let's have a drink together to celebrate our new pack partnership." Malia objects immediately, "But our hands haven't even signed the contract yet. My mouth will gladly have a drink with your wolf after we conclude our pack business." "Ms. Argent, surely your ears know my three golden alpha rules before my hands do business?" Conan grins with pure mischief. "First, my wolf likes to enjoy a little drink to loosen up the mind. Second, my body indulges in some special companionship to ease the pressure of the pack. Third... well, a combination of the two is the ultimate pleasure in life under the moon."

“Harper wants a turn too.” “Outside.” “Benji said he wants to race.” “There will be no racing.” Aiden frowned. “Just a little.” “There’s no such thing as a little race. A race is still a race.” “Slow.” “If it’s slow, it’s called driving.” “A driving race.” I put a piece of pollo in my mouth and chewed before answering, because motherhood required strategic pauses so I didn’t start sounding like a nine o’clock telenovela.

he said in a ridiculed tone. The race was fierce; the racers were rushing at an alarming speed, and everywhere they passed, the dust rose. Due to the afterimage they left, it made it difficult for anyone to differentiate which competitor was first or last. For now, green, black, and white were struggling for the first place, followed by brown, red, yellow, orange, and navy-blue.

Our team came running over, all talking at once. “Man, they race like animals!” “Next time we’ll get them, don’t worry.” “Bullshit,” I said loud. “They don’t race clean ever. They just push and cheat and everyone lets them because they bring in the sponsors.” Boston kicked the tire of his car. “I swear if I see Arnold again tonight I’m punching him in the mouth.”

He stood out and said, “I will.” “Alright, let’s chose the car. There are only two cars in our team. You choose first, and the other is mine.” I said quickly. At this moment, Brycen kindly reminded, “Our car has been modified for racing. Don’t think that you can drive racing car only with driver licence. The racing car runs very fast. Ordinary people can’t control it, and it is easy for them to get into trouble. Although I dislike you, I don’t want to see you die at an early age.”