Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 8

I slip through the back door of the house like a shadow, moving carefully to avoid making any noise. The house is silent, but that doesn’t mean I’m alone. My beta father, Logan, is unpredictable, and if he catches me sneaking in, there’ll be hell to pay.

The air inside is heavy with the scent of my mum's old wood and herbs, a familiar comfort that I refuse to dwell on. I can’t afford to let myself feel anything right now.

My room is just as I left it. Small, bare, almost empty. I pull out my worn-out bag from under the bed and start stuffing in the few clothes I own. Not that I had much to begin with—Logan never allowed my mother to buy me more than the bare minimum, claiming I didn’t deserve it. He made sure I never looked like I belonged, and for the longest time, I let him believe I didn't.

Beneath a loose floorboard under my bed, I pull out a small, heavy box. The weight of it is reassuring. Inside, gold pieces glimmer faintly in the dim light. My secret.

No one in the pack knows how I got this—not even Caspian or mum. Letting anyone know would’ve meant death. I had taken jobs as a bounty hunter, tracking supernatural fugitives and collecting rewards under the cover of darkness. It's a work that kept me alive, made me stronger, and gave me something of my own in a world that wanted to keep me powerless.

My massive wolf, a creature no one had ever seen, had given me the edge. It was the reason I never let anyone witness my shift. A wolf like mine? It was dangerous. A threat.

I tuck the gold carefully between my clothes and zip the bag shut. Before leaving, there’s one more thing I need to do.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen, my hands trembling slightly as I scribble a quick note for my mother. The words don’t come easily.

Mama,

Don’t cry for me. This is not the end. Keep your head up and stay strong. One day, I will come back, and when I do, things will be different.

Take this gold and use it well. Please, survive until I return.

I love you.

I fold the note and slip a piece of gold inside. Now, where to hide it?

Not in her room—Logan would find it. No, somewhere he’d never look.

I move to the kitchen, my fingers grazing over the counters as I think. Then my eyes land on the rice cooker. Perfect.

Logan never steps foot in the kitchen. He believes it’s beneath him—a woman’s duty. For my mother, though, the kitchen has become a place of quiet safety, the only space where she isn’t under his watchful eye. She’ll find it.

I lift the lid and slide the note and gold inside before closing it again.

A deep breath steadies me as I adjust the strap of my bag. This is it. My fingers tighten around it as I cast one last glance around the house. I won’t say goodbye. Saying goodbye means I won’t be back, and I will be back. For her. For revenge.

I turn toward the door, reaching for the handle, but before I can pull it open, it moves from the other side.

I freeze.

The door cracks open, and my mother’s face appears, eyes already rimmed with red, as if she somehow knew. Her gaze drops to the bag in my hands, and her breath catches in her throat.

“Kali,” she whispers.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay strong, to not let the sight of her break me. “Mum—”

Her hands tremble as she lifts them, covering her mouth as a choked sob escapes. “Don’t tell me…” She shakes her head, blinking rapidly. “Don’t tell me you were about to leave without saying goodbye.”

I tighten my grip on my bag’s strap, my knuckles aching. “I didn’t want to say goodbye, Mum,” I admit. “Because I know I’ll see you again. But I needed to leave without giving this pack or Luna Diana the satisfaction of watching me go, thinking they broke me. That they threw me out like some worthless criminal.”

Her eyes fill with understanding as she nods slowly. “Before you go, there’s something I need to give you.” She takes my hands firmly, pulling me inside and shutting the door behind us.

“Mum, if it’s money, forget it. I’ll be fine,” I argue, shaking my head.

She lets out a soft laugh, the sound warm but laced with sadness. “It’s not money,” she says. “I know you’d never take it. But there is something I took from you the day I found you. And I think it will help if you ever decide to search for your family.”

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