Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 111

“Down the hall,” he said, voice like gravel. “First door on the right. Knock three times.”

Julian gave a curt nod. Jace did the same.

They stepped past him, but not without a backward glance—more instinct than distrust, but heavy all the same. The bear shifter didn’t move, just watched them go, jaw clenched tight.

They entered a long hallway veiled in dim lighting—walls a deep matte black, lined with silver sconces that flickered like candlelight. Their footsteps were the only sound as they walked, every shadow whispering of things best left unseen.

They stopped in front of the door—the first on the right, just as instructed.

Julian knocked three times.

The sound echoed down the corridor, then faded into silence.

Then—quiet footsteps. The click of a lock.

The door opened.

Standing in the threshold was a young woman—striking, with long red hair that shimmered like flame and eyes the color of freshly cut emeralds. Her gaze landed on Julian first, scanning him with impassive precision.

Then she looked past him.

And stopped.

Her eyes locked with Jace’s.

Something passed between them—silent, invisible—but unmistakable. Her pupils darkened slightly, a flicker of recognition… or something deeper. They stared at each other, caught in a moment too long to be casual.

Julian’s brow furrowed as he looked between them, confused.

The woman finally blinked, tearing her gaze from Jace. “Come in,” she said softly, stepping aside.

Jace let out a slow exhale, like he’d been holding it the entire time.

Julian gave him a side glance that asked: You good?

Jace nodded once—tight, wordless.

They stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit—furnished in shadow and velvet, with gilded corners and a stillness that felt almost ceremonial.

“The King has agreed to speak with you,” the woman said, closing the door behind them. “Do you know what his terms are for requesting an audience unannounced and uninvited… or shall I explain them to you?”

Jace didn’t blink. “We’re aware.”

Their eyes met again. Another pulse passed between them—quieter this time, but still there.

She nodded. “Very well. Let’s get to it then.”

When her gaze finally lifted, Jace’s brow arched—a smug flicker in his eyes. Not embarrassed, not even surprised—just amused. And proud.

The corner of her mouth curled—just a little—into a smirk. Flirtatious. Fleeting. But it was there.

Then she turned, walking to a wooden box perched on a nearby accent table.

Julian shot Jace a narrow look—half amused, half incredulous. What the hell was that?

Jace only grinned.

The woman returned with two black collars, each one made of supple leather and silver-lined clasps.

She handed them over.

They hesitated—just for a breath—before fastening them around their necks. The click of the clasps echoed like punctuation.

The woman stepped forward again and, without fanfare, clipped silver leashes to the rings at their throats.

Then she smiled sweetly.

“Follow me, boys.”

And with that, she turned, the leashes taut in her grasp as she led them forward—two Lycans bared and bound, walking not as warriors, but as offerings into the lair of a king who preferred his guests humbled before they ever spoke a word.