Rivalry Novels & Stories

Their rivalry was feral, territorial and personal. Both alphas were obsessed with proving who was stronger, smarter, faster, and who was the true dominant force. Their egos clashed so violently that no one in any territory dared to invite them to the same event. It wasn’t worth the chaos. History had shown the pattern too many times: A lavish gala would turn into an impromptu dominance match. A peaceful celebration would devolve into a growling contest. And on one notorious occasion, the two alphas nearly leveled an entire banquet hall arguing about which pack had the superior training grounds.

“You’re going to outshine me all summer.” He tilted his head, his voice still low. “I don’t need to plan that.” I caught my breath — half fury, half fascination. God, he was impossible. Infuriating. Unavoidable. And one truth settled heavily in my chest as he walked away, leaving the faintest sign of cologne in the air: This rivalry wasn’t dying. It was evolving. Into something far more dangerous. ************* I didn’t sleep that night. Not because of Milan. Not because of the press. Not because of the constant hum of danger that swirled around Dante Romano like a storm cloud. I didn’t sleep because the past won’t stop replaying itself behind my eyes.

He said underneath his breath. Within a few minutes everyone was back on the pitch, the Ravens were ahead of Greenmay with 15 points, the next few minutes was the only time they had to proof themselves. Everyone was at the edge of their sit as the game started once again, Allen threw a pass and Arson blocked it. Allen was mad, all his life he had to compete with Arson because of the rivalry between the two clans. If Arson went hunting and killed a bear, Allen had to kill more just to prove his worth.

Linda snapped back. "I'm anxious, that's all." "I understand, that is why I am still here. Ok, as I was saying, you are your father's son, right?" "Obviously." Brant rolled his eyes mentally. "So technically, if she believes that your father is responsible for her pain, hence her rival, it automatically makes you her rival too. Now the question is, why would she tell you her intentions if she really hated you?" Brant shrugged, "I don't know, perhaps to torture me emotionally, I'll see the end coming but can't change it…?"

I had been a good enough fighter at the Dandelion Primes Pack, but the way he easily parried any blow I sent his way indicated just how much better the Black Raven Pack was at fighting. After a few minutes, I started to get tired and my swings became weaker and weaker. “You have no strength or stamina, and your fighting technique is sloppy and predictable,” he growled, “Is this really how they teach you to fight at the Dandelion Primes Pack?” I glared at him, my chest heaving, “I did not ask for you to come out here and insult my pack.” Suddenly, he took a step closer to me, completely catching me off guard. Anger and dominance pulsed off of his body in waves.

They were praising them in their minds—thinking about all the sacrifices that they had made, not knowing that the two men in the living room were currently holding a contest on who could eat the sliced apples the fastest. "Fuck off. I clearly have more apples than you, so it'd be unfair if we go on with these rules," Arlo said. Dalton clicked his tongue. "Shut up. I literally sliced more apples than you. I am the one who's at a disadvantage here." "No, I am!" Arlo argued. "I am!" Dalton screamed back. Arlo shut his eyes and massaged his temples. "Fine. Let's just bring out the weighing scale." Dalton stuck his chin up. "Fine!"

Ryan had always considered Andrew as his rival and this was because Andrew had always bested him in all what they had to do, both in class and anywhere else and Ryan hated being second best so he sees Andrew as a rival. Suzanne on her own supports Ryan loyally, so it's no news she doesn't like whoever Ryan doesn't like. "You're annoying Andrew!" she yelled at him as he started walking away. He paused but didn't turn back. "Annoying? In what way have I annoyed you?" he shrugged, "Not that I care anyway." "You think you're better than everyone!" she fired at him. "I am," he replied coolly, "In what way does this conversation have to do with our encounter?"

"How do you know that?" "I pay attention." The words settled into me deeper than they should have, given how simply he said them. Three years of rivalry, and I never once considered that his attention to me might have been anything other than strategic, something calculated to give him an edge in whatever negotiation we were locked in that week. Now I wasn't sure it had ever been purely that, even back then. I wondered how many small things he noticed over those three years that had nothing to do with winning at all.

"I know exactly who is out there. And I don't like the way you're so close to him these days. What?!How long has he been watching me? How does he know Kenneth? Why isn't he surprised by their identical faces? A chilling realization sent a shiver straight down my spine. He knew. He knew exactly who Kenneth was, and he knew they shared the same face. He wasn't surprised at all. He was playing a dangerous, deliberate game of chess, and I was caught right in the middle of it. This is madness, I thought, my hands trembling as I tried to maintain my composure. If Kenneth walks in, my entire career, my reputation, everything is completely ruined.

The rivalry between Crestwood and Eastbridge High was not the kind that needed explaining. It had existed for eleven years, built from a combination of geographic proximity, evenly matched programs, and the specific institutional memory of schools that had been losing and winning against each other long enough that the losing hurt more than it would against anyone else. It lived in the hallways as a background hum most of the year and became a foreground roar in October, when the first of their two scheduled matchups landed on the calendar and the school oriented itself around it the way schools oriented themselves around things that temporarily made everyone