Read Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 22 Free

I walk–one step at a time–away from Blood Fang territory.

It feels unreal.

I expected resistance–warriors blocking my path, Jack’s men dragging me back, or worse, him hunting me down himself. But nothing. No sound of pursuit, no angry growl carried by the wind. Just silence.

It doesn’t make sense.

I haven’t known Jack long, but in the short time I’ve spent with him, I’ve learned one thing–he isn’t the type to let something, or someone, slip through his fingers. He’s ruthless, possessive–the kind of man who carves his name into whatever belongs to him. And according to fate, I belong to him.

So why isn’t he stopping me?

The thought chills me.

Maybe this is a game. Maybe he’s watching from the shadows, letting me run just so he can enjoy the chase.

I grit my teeth. If that’s the case, he’s made the biggest mistake of his life.

Because I’m never coming back.

Once I cross far enough, I glance over my shoulder one last time. No movement, no sign of anyone following My heartbeat slows slightly, but I don’t let my guard down. I crouch behind a thick tree, place my bag of gold between my teeth, and shift.

Bones crack, stretching, shifting. Dark obsidian fur ripples across my form, streaked with glowing silver patterns. My claws dig into the dirt as I steady myself. The moment I’m fully transformed, I bolt.

I sprint through the forest, leaves whipping past me as I follow the path I once took–before fate dragged me into Jack’s den.

I snarl.

Fate is a cruel bitch.

The trees blur as I run, the sound of the stream growing louder in the distance. Relief swells in my chest when I see it, the familiar glistening water winding through the forest.

For the first time since leaving Jack, I smile.

Not stopping for food. Not stopping for water. Not making the same mistake again.

I push myself harder.

Mile after mile, I follow the stream east, my paws barely making a sound against the damp earth. Twenty miles pass before the landscape shifts, the trees thinning until I reach a clearing.

There.

I follow the path leading northeast, forcing myself to keep going for another ten miles. My legs burn, my lungs scream for air, but I don’t stop.