Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 100

The silence in the hall is suffocating. It clings to me like a second in thick with tension and unspoken truths. Lady Celestia stands tall and smug, the deep red of her dress practically radiatitig arrogance.

And I can’t wait to see that arrogance crumble the look on her face when she realizes I’m not only alive, after she failed to kill me in this very hall, but that I am the true blood of her father… the rightful heir to the throne she so desperately covets.

I’m surprised she hasn’t noticed me yet. Then again, the hall is crowded, filled with layers of scents and auras that cloak mine just enough to delay recognition. Or maybe…maybe she simply refuses to believe I survived.

“Why are you here, Celestia?” the Alpha King’s voice cuts sharply through the still air. “And who the fuck let you out? You’re supposed to be–”

“Supposed to be what, Father?” she cuts in, her voice sharp, sweet and venomous all at once. “Not supposed to be here? Locked up in my room like a dog? No–worse than a dog?”

He locked her up? But why…? Don’t tell me he’s punishing her for what she did to me. My heart flutters at the thought, but everyone in the hall stiffens. Even the music halts–as if the strings themselves are holding their breath.

“Come now, Father,” she continues with a smirk, stepping further into the spotlight like it was made for her. “I was getting so bored being punished over that bitch.”

And then–finally–her eyes flicker toward me. It’s an instinctive slip, a mere glance. But I see the twitch in her brow. Her gaze meets mine, and she freezes.

Shock. Disbelief.

It flashes across her face before she swallows and tries to recover. But it’s too late. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

She has.

I meet her stare with the blank expression I’ve spent years perfecting. Cold, unreadable. Hiding the storm that rages behind my

eyes.

It takes her a moment before she tears her gaze away and turns back to her father, forcing a smile to cover the tremor in her voice.

“And since today is Mother’s birthday,” she says, almost stammering, “it’s only fitting that I be here. After all, I am her one and only daughter.”

Her words twist inside me like barbed wire. Why does she keep living in this delusion?

The Alpha King runs a hand through his dark hair, his jaw grinding so loudly I can almost hear the bone threaten to snap. It’s the first crack I’ve seen in his iron composure. He looks utterly fed

up with her lies, her arrogance–and underneath it all, deeply disappointed.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he says through gritted teeth. “For now, return to your room.”

He’s barely holding himself together. He’s trying to save face. Trying to maintain the fragile illusion of control in front of every Alpha and Luna present. Because if he loses it now, this entire gathering–this fragile performance of peace and control-

crumbles with him.

But Celestia only smiles wider, as if his command were praise. She tilts her head, playing innocent.

“No, Father. Today is Mother’s birthday… and I have a gift for her.

A low, dangerous growl rumbles in his chest. He takes a step forward, his aura darkening into something deadly.

“And what gift,” he grits out, “could possibly be so important that can’t wait? You’re not a guest here, Celestia.”

“You made me feel like one,” she snaps back. “Like a stranger. Like nothing.”

Her voice trembles–just for a moment–a crack in her mask but then she hides it with a smile sharp enough to cut.

“But that’s okay,” she says sweetly. “I forgive you.”

I nearly laugh. Forgive him? The audacity. I want to slap that smug forgiveness right off her face.

Then she lifts her chin and brushes her fingers along the glowing necklace at her throat like it’s a crown.

“But tell me, Father… surely you noticed this?”

She taps it once. Twice. The stone flickers like a flame.

“The very same necklace that belonged to Mother.”

The king frowns. His eyes lower–too slowly–and then lands on the necklace resting against her skin.

His body stills. Shock.

Real, undeniable, raw shock spreads across his face—and that’s what unsettles me most. Is he only seeing it now? He looks as if the necklace just appeared… or as if he’s only now realizing what it truly means.

My breath catches in my throat.

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