Veils Of Rivalry Novels & Stories

Don’t forget who you are when they try to file you down. Then she turned toward the west wing. Salle C looked like a chapel that had given up on God and decided to worship velocity instead. High windows let in a washed-out light that turned dust motes into lazy ghosts. The gleaming floor bore the faint scuffs of a thousand impacts, quiet testimony to years of rhythm and aggression. Racks of foils and epees lined the walls like orderly threats. Old black-and-white photos of champions stared down, all hard eyes and humorless mouths.

Their glances spoke volumes, wordlessly communicating their mutual distrust and simmering rivalry. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the distinctive patches adorning their vests, or as Krystal would jokingly refer to them as "cuts." Some displayed the emblem of the Gold Vipers, while others proudly sported the insignia of the Devil's Rangers. The contrasting symbols spoke volumes, hinting at a simmering rivalry that hung heavily in the air, fraught with unspoken tension.

Concern flickers across her expression. Concern. For me. The realization sends something fierce and territorial through my chest, something violent and absolute, something that makes the thought of anyone touching her feel like an act of war. Mine. The word grows stronger. More certain. More impossible to ignore. I hate it. I hate how much I want it to be true. Because finding a mate now is not a gift. It is vulnerability. It is weakness. It is something hunters would exploit without hesitation. They would use her. Track her.

Adrian's POV. There wasn't really much practice before the showdown between Donovan and me. I already told Pete and the rest of the teammates that she chose to play like they were playing in the tournament. No cheating; I want a fair game between the two of us. The morning of the game, I woke up to see that she was in the room as well. I had told Jenny not to spend the night with me. I'm taking Donovan on as a strong rival and won't be relaxed.

"What does that mean?" "It means this is still complicated," Marcus said. "The review cleared the joint venture. It didn't erase what his family did to yours. And now you're not just his business partner, you're the woman he's involved with, publicly, in a city that's going to have opinions about that the moment it becomes common knowledge, which, knowing this industry, will be approximately Thursday." "I know it's complicated," Sienna said. "I'm not pretending otherwise. I'm choosing it anyway, with my eyes open, exactly the way you're describing. That's the whole point."

Jade, Mika, and I arrived at exactly 9:00 PM–which is when Mika said it usually opens–and when I say the place is packed to the brim, I mean you couldn't slide a sheet of paper between the bodies crammed inside. The crowd is split down the middle in an aggressive display of school rivalry. Students from VSU wear clear indicators of their loyalty, dressed in dark blue shirts, skirts, dresses, or full-on dark blue VSU Tiger jerseys. Students from RVC indicate their allegiance by rocking red outfits or red RVC Wolf jerseys. VSU takes up the entire right side surrounding the elevated fight ring, while RVC dominates the left. For those who aren't interested in picking a side or wearing team color

The sterile smell of disinfectant clung to Elisa’s skin no matter how often she scrubbed her hands. For weeks she remained at Leonard’s side, the steady beeping of machines, her lullaby, the hum of whispered gossip, her constant backdrop. Her father lingered near the window, arms folded, watching over her more than the patient. He had been her anchor, quietly supportive while the rest of the world pointed accusing fingers at the Darkhorse name. “Their rivalry was no secret,” voices had whispered in hospital corridors. “Isn’t it obvious who orchestrated the attack?”

“Private leverage.” As if summoned by the thought, my email notification chimed. Subject: Scholarship Review Reconsideration. I opened it. My research grant had been flagged for reassessment due to “ongoing conduct concerns.” Strategic suffocation had begun. Brandon read it silently. “They are trying to drain momentum,” he said calmly. “Yes.” “Are you steady.” “Yes.” I meant it. Because the pattern was visible now. And patterns are predictable. “They halted conduct punishment publicly,” I said. “Now they will apply private strain.”

He said impatiently, his once gentle voice harsh and uninviting. The reality of the situation dawned on me. Maverick is divorcing me! My hand quivered on the paper. “Why are you doing this Maverick? I have been loyal to you…I have done everything for you. I jeopardize my career just for your sake and is this how you repay me for all I have done!?" I blurted, tears clouded in my eyes, threatening to spill. “This isn't about loyalty, Olivia. I can't be seen with a criminal." Maverick cut in, twisting his lips disgustingly after blurting the words carelessly.

"What's wrong, Hades? You look tense,'' he said. ''Are wards up?," I said, and he frowned, then sat up. "Yes, why? What's wrong?'' He asked I sighed. ''There is a threat now, a rebellion,'' I said. ''What? Where?'' He asked. "Here, in the underworld, and in Olympus as well,” I replied “Why does are you so concerned? We've had many enemies before," he asked. "It bothers me because they seem to believe they have a common enemy," I answered.