Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 92

The carriage rattles to a halt, its wheels crunching against the gravel of a hidden trail deep within Blood Fang territory. Inside, Lady Celestia sits straight–backed, hier gloved hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her jaw tenses as the carriage door creaks open.

A tall, hooded figure appears outside–a royal warrior of the Alpha King, cloaked in black. He bows slightly and extends a hand. “My lady,” he says smoothly. “We’ve arrived.”

Celestia accepts his hand with a regal nod and steps down, the hem of her deep crimson gown brushing against the damp earth. Her eyes narrow as she surveys the trail ahead–narrow, veiled by overgrown roots and moss–covered stones. It snakes along the border of Blood Fang, a path known only to those who were meant to find it.

She frowns. “Are you sure this route is safe? If I’m caught entering this pack, it won’t end well.‘

Though she had been surrounded by power her entire life, Celestia was no fool. Jack was dangerous when provoked–and she had provoked him more than anyone ever dared. Especially now.

She had killed Kali herself.

If Jack ever found out—and if he found her here–he wouldn’t hesitate.

He might tear her apart before her alpha king father comes to her rescue.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. Alpha Jack no longer leads Blood Fang. Security is weak for now. There are no patrols along this route. You’ll be in and out before anyone even realizes you were here.”

His words freeze her in place.

“What? He stepped down?

The warrior nods, clearly amused by her shock.

“There’s no better man to lead Blood Fang than Jack,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “He was born for it. His name alone made weaker packs bow. He commanded fear like a true Alpha.

The warrior snorts. “You’re right. He was. But now?” His lips curl into a sneer. “Jack’s become a fucking disgrace. Tossed aside tradition, abolished ancient laws–just to please the women of the pack. Pathetic.”

He doesn’t get the chance to say more because her palm slices across his face in a sharp, echoing slap. He stumbles back, blood blooming at the corner of his mouth. Shock flashes in his eyes.

“Watch your tongue,” Celestia hisses. “He is going to be your future king–my husband. Show him the respect he deserves, or keep your worthless mouth shut.”

The warrior quickly bows, wiping the blood from his lip. “Forgive me, Princess. I crossed the line.”

She says nothing more, letting him take her hand again as they move down the winding path. Her gown is too elegant for this kind of trek, but she bears it with pride.

They reach a small, hidden gate nestled beneath a slope of bramble and earth. With a rusty creak, the warrior pushes it open, and they slip inside the quiet heart of Blood Fang.

“My informant says Jack went for a run,” the warrior whispers. “He left not long ago. Now’s our chance.”

Celestia offers no reply as they approach the house. With a soft click, the warrior picks the front door lock, quick and skilled- Nike he’s done this countless times.

Warm air greets them inside. Too warm. Celestia suddenly recoils as a scent hits her like a punch to the face. It’s everywhere. Rain and pine. Burnt cinnamon. Night–blooming jasmine.

Celestia hand fly up to cover her nose. Her eyes narrow in irritation The scent isn’t just lingering. It’s fresh, like Kali had just been there.

No–seconds ago.

Impossible.

She’s dead. I killed her. She shouldn’t be here.

Celestia shakes her head quickly, trying to dismiss the thought. It has to be a trick of her imagination and senses. It has to be.

Before her thoughts can spiral, the warrior’s voice interrupt. “I’ll start searching. We need to find the necklace before Alpha Jack returns. The scent–masking spell will hold–but not if we’re still here when he gets back. He’ll know.”

He disappears down the hallway and she lady Celestia lowers herself onto the plush couch in the living room with practiced elegance, legs crossed, shoulders straight, but her thoughts are far from composed.

Her gaze lingers on the spot where the warrior vanished. A master tracker. A loyal royal guard to the Alpha King… but more importantly, her uncle Malrik’s loyal dog. She trusts him–because she has to. He serves Uncle Malrik. If he sent her here for a necklace–no matter how foolish it sounds–it must matter.

Her fingers toy absentmindedly with the edge of her sleeve as her thoughts wander.

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