Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 115

Julian didn’t hesitate.

“Well, one Fae did… with a Lycan.” He let the words hang for a beat.

“My mate’s powers awakened a few weeks ago… and she unknowingly teleported into the Fae realm.”

Sebastian shifted, interest flickering behind his sharp gaze.

“And how exactly do you know she ended up there?”

Julian met his eyes, voice low and resolute.

“Because she told me. Tonight—when she dream-walked.”

That gave them both pause.

Sebastian leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing—not with suspicion, but fascination.

“Interesting,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Lazarus studied Julian for a long beat, then exhaled—slow and thoughtful.

“Realm-walking,” he said, almost to himself. “An exceptionally rare gift.”

His voice dipped lower, threaded with the weight of memory.

“I’ve only known it to manifest in three places: among the most powerful mage clans… in Fae descended from ancient royal bloodlines… and in one other immortal being—one who holds power that most minds can’t begin to comprehend.”

Julian sighed, then lifted his gaze.

“Unfortunately… I’m not a realm-walker. Which is why I need to know how to reach the gate that leads to the Fae realm.”

Lazarus didn’t respond right away.

His expression didn’t shift, but the silence that followed felt colder. He shifted slightly in his chair, one brow lifting in something between pity and warning.

“You’ll die before you even make it there.”

The words hung in the air—blunt. Final.

Jace stilled beside Julian, tension coiling in his shoulders.

But Julian didn’t back down.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Lazarus was a bit taken back.

“This isn’t a ghost story, boy,” he said softly. “The gates aren’t just old myths told around a fire to scare the curious.”

He leaned forward, voice dipping low with the weight of ancient truth.

“They’re real. And they’re very much guarded—by ancient beings. Sentinels. Their sole purpose is to keep the unworthy out. One strike from them…”

A slow, chilling pause.

“…and you’re marked for death.”

Julian’s voice cut through the stillness, low but unyielding.

“Then tell me how to get past them. How to trick them. Distract them. Something.”

He rose from his chair, eyes hard.

“You’ve lived over six thousand years—you’ve seen what most only whisper about. Don’t tell me you’ve never uncovered a weakness. A crack. A way through.”

Lazarus’s expression darkened, the amusement gone from his eyes.

“I will not help you orchestrate your own death.”

His voice, though quiet, held the weight of finality.

“Your time is up. It’s time you left.”

Julian stood his ground.

“I’m not leaving.”

His voice was calm, but unshakable.

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