Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 71

The pain vanishes from his face almost Pstantly. He clumps forward, hands braced against the ground, chest heaving 

Across from him, Lady Celestia stumbles back like she’s been gutted 

. Her eyes go wide, one hand clawing at her chest as if she’s trying to hold herself together or stop something from slipping out. 

For a second–just a second–she looks… broken. All the arrogance and venom she wore like a crown has been stripped away. She no longer looks like royalty. No longer powerful. No longer the predator she always pretended to be. 

Just a girl who lost everything. 

She lost him. 

The crowd is dead silent, but not for long. 

Suddenly, the man with the walking stick takes a single step forward, slow and calculating, like a predator that enjoys the chase more than the kill. And for some damn reason, his eyes are still on me–no, not me… my necklace at my throat. 

“Where are you from?” he asks, his voice low but carrying like thunder. “What pack were you part of before now?” 

My eyes narrow. “Why does that matter?” I snap before I can stop myself. “You’re the Alpha King’s errand boy. Stick to being his mutt and stay out of my life.” 

A cold chuckle slips from his lips–a dark, joyless sound that crawls under my skin. 

“So the rumours are true,” he says softly, his voice thick with promise and poison. “You’re fiery. With a mouth that begs to be tamed. You’ll be fun to break.” 

I open my mouth to fire back–but Celestia interrupts, suddenly gasping for breath. She coughs harshly, dragging herself upright as if her lungs are failing. When she finally speaks, her voice is rough, and her legs barely support her. 

“Take her,” she orders, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Arrest her now.” 

Fury shoots up from the ground, stepping in front of me like a goddamn wall. “You promised,” he growls. “You said if I accepted your rejection, you’d 

leave her alone.” 

Celestia’s laughter is sharp and cruel. “And you were stupid enough to believe me? Why would I ever keep a promise to a lowlife like you?” 

The man with the walking stick leans down and murmurs something in her ear, too low for anyone else to hear–but I hear it. I hear it. 

“We can’t take her to your father. Plans have changed. We return–for now.” 

Celestia jerks away from him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What? No! 1 came back for this. I asked my father for royal permission! We must arrest her!” she snaps. “Do your duty-!” 

A low, guttural growl cuts her off. It rumbles from deep in the man’s chest like a beast waking from slumber. 

The man–whoever the hell he is–glares at her, and in that moment, he no longer looks like a mere messenger. Something in his eyes changes. Celestia, proud, sharp–tongued, fire–forged Celestia… wilts/She falls silent–like someone slapped the voice right out of her. Her mouth clamps shut, and she bows her head, standing there stiff and obedient, like a chastised pup. 

What the actual hell? 

What kind of royal messenger makes the Alpha King’s daughter shut up like that? 

For fuck’s sake, she is the Alpha King’s daughter… and she just tucked her tail between her legs like a whipped dog. 

Something’s wrong here Deeply wrong 

bursts through the crowd in a blut of heat and rage, eyes blazing as they lock onto mine. “Are you okay?” he demands, grabbing my arms and scanning my face like he’s terrified of what he’ll find–blood, bruises, anything. 

“I’m fine,” I whisper, shaking my head. My chest still trembles, but I mean it. Now that he’s here. “Fury stepped in.” 

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