Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 58

“Please be careful when delivering these letters,” I tell Fury in a serious tone. “Especially the one for my mother, I know I told you my adopted father is the beta but I also forgot to mention that he is holds the title for the world’s biggest asshole. His senses are sharp as hell. He practically keeps my mother on a leash.” 

Fury gives me a slight bow, his hand pressed to his chest. “Of course, Luna, I’ll tell the men to be discreet about it. You have my word.” 

But as he straightens, I notice it again–he scratches his nose. Not once, not twice. He’s been doing it from the moment he stepped back inside. My eyes narrow suspiciously. 

“You good, Fury?” Task. 

He freezes, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air. His face twists into a grimace, and he scratches his chin hard enough that I almost hear the scrape of nails against skin. 

“Yeah, yeah….” he mutters, but then he sniffs again, looking almost embarrassed as frustration creeps into his voice. “It’s just–there’s this weird scent. I can’t explain it.” His eyes dart around like he’s searching for a ghost. 

It hits me then, and I almost gag. I scrunch my nose and smirk. “I’m sure that ‘weird scent‘ you’re talking about belongs to Lady Celestia. God, I feel like vomiting too.” 

I burst out laughing. Fury shakes his head, a rare smile tugging at his lips, though his hand still unconsciously rubs his nose like it’s driving him insane. 

“I know, right?” he mutters gruffly. “But this is… different. The scent… it’s driving me-” His voice trails off again, and he shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “Forget it. Forget I said anything,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. 

Before I can press him further, he snatches the letters from me and stuffs them into his jacket like they’re precious contraband. “Once I get their replies, I’ll reach out,” he promises. 

“Thank you, Fury,” I say softly, watching him head for the door. Something still feels off about him, but I push the thought aside once he’s gone. 

As the door clicks shut behind him, I let out a heavy sigh and lean back against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. Alone. Finally. 

Relief bubbles out of me uncontrollably, and I end up laughing like a lunatic, clutching my stomach. God, I must look completely deranged—but I don’t care. The image of Celestia’s face when Jack told her to go make herself “comfortable” in the attic flashes through my mind, and I cackle even harder. 

“Serves her right,” I mumble through giggles. 

But before I get too comfortable, my wolf huffs in my head, dragging me back to reality. 

“We still have to get rid of her,” she grumbles. “We can’t afford her hanging around our mate. We need Jack. His touch. His kisses-” 

“Alright, alright!” I groan, throwing my head back against the door. “I get it! Shut up already.” 

I’ve heard the same speech from her a thousand times. No way in hell was I about to let her start writing a whole romance novel in my head again. 

“Let’s go for a run,” I mutter, pushing myself to my feet. “Clear our head.” 

My wolf snorts but then howls in agreement. “Anything to get out of this house – it reeks of that bitch’s scent. “Hopefully, by the time we come back, the stench will be gone.” 

Chuckling, I walk over to the windows, shoving them open wide and dramatically waving my hand through the air like a woman banishing a demon. 

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