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Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 13

 

Chapter 13 

Alpha Jack. 

I watch her my mate–the woman I have spent my life impatiently waiting for. She lifts her chin, those fierce emerald eyes locking onto mine without a trace of submission. Her lips curl into a smirk, sharp and teasing–almost daring. 

“I’m not one to be broken, Jack.” 

Fuck. The way she says my name ignites something dark inside me. 

“But I’d love to see you try.” 

Her words slither through the space between us like a challenge–bold, reckless. No woman has ever dared to look me in the eyes, much less speak back to me with such confidence. But this one? My mate? She has no fear. 

I should be furious, but instead, I’m intrigued. My fingers twitch with the urge to grab her by the throat, force her to kneel, and make her understand who she belongs to. But I won’t. 

When I imagined my mate, I pictured a soft, delicate woman–one who would bow at my command, whisper my name with reverence. A woman I could shield, one who would seek comfort in my strength, who would let me protect her without question. A woman like my mother, my sisters, like every other female in my pack who knows her place beneath me. 

Instead, I got her. 

She stands tall, her athletic frame honed from years of training–nothing like the women of my pack, who are small, dainty creatures bred for submission. Herraven–black hair cascades down her back, framing a face that should belong to a Luna, not a woman thrown into a pit like an animal. And her eyes… they burn with an inner fire that dares me to strike her down. 

Every part of her is a challenge. 

I don’t know whether to crush her or keep her. For the first time in my life, i don’t know what to feel. But one thing is certain–my life will never be boring again. 

My fingers flex unconsciously before I release my grip, careful not to bruise her smooth, perfect skin beneath them. It infuriates me that I even care. I 

don’t do soft. I don’t do careful. 

Just then, my warriors step forward, ready to escort her to the mating chamber as I ordered. But before they can lay a hand on her, she growls–low, dangerous. 

“Don’t put your filthy hands on me. I will walk on my own. Lead the way.” 

Her command rings with such authority that even my seasoned warriors freeze, hesitant. They are used to silent, obedient women, not one who gives orders like she belongs here. 

A slow, dark smile spreads across my lips as I watch them step back. They fear my wrath more than hers, yet still, they obey. Interesting. 

Just as she strides past me, one of my warriors clears his throat and bows his head, his voice uncertain. 

“Alpha…” 

“Speak.” My voice is edged with impatience. 

He swallows hard. “She… she clawed out the general’s eye. That’s why he threw her into the Black Hole. His ego was wounded.” 

I tilt my head, studying her anew. A woman who tore apart a man twice her size? I almost want to laugh. 

In my world, women don’t fight. They exist to serve. To please. To obey. They are born into submission, raised to know their place beneath men like me. 

They do not raise their voices. They are possessions–meant to be controlled, protected, used. They are either mated to strong males or sold off to forge alliances. 

Chapter 13 1

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