Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 122

His gaze flicked to Jace, then back again.

“Your mind will play tricks on you. That’s its nature. But if something doesn’t make sense…”

“…then it isn’t real,” Jace finished.

Julian nodded grimly. “Not real.”

A sudden mechanical whir shattered the stillness.

The rear cargo hatch began to open with a heavy groan, metal straining against pressure and wind.

Julian and Jace instinctively tensed, rising from their seats as cold air rushed inward, tousling their hair

and clothes.

They both turned back toward Lazarus, confusion flickering across their faces as the wind howled louder through the widening hatch.

Two parachute packs hit the floor at their feet with a heavy thud–tossed without ceremony.

Sebastian, unbothered as always, gestured lazily. “Straps go over your shoulders and across your chest. Back rig goes on your back, obviously. Secondary can be clipped across the front. They’ll latch at the sides.”

Jace bent to inspect one of the rigs while Julian just stared, jaw tightening.

“Hold up…” Julian said slowly, a hand lifting. “Time the fuck out.”

His gaze snapped to Lazarus.

“You never said anything about jumping out of the plane.”

Lazarus tilted his head, voice calm beneath the mechanical din. “Would it have stopped you from proceeding on this journey?”

Julian let out a tight breath, closing his eyes for a moment as frustration pulled at his features. “No,” he admitted. “But it would’ve been nice to have a heads up. I could’ve mentally prepared for this.”

“You’ll do just fine,” Lazarus said breezily. “You’re Lycans. Lycans always land on their feet.”

Jace gave him a flat look. “That’s a fuckin‘ cat.”

Lazarus hummed. “Mmm. That’s right, isn’t it?”

He and Sebastian chuckled, the sound amused and entirely unperturbed.

Julian scowled. “This isn’t funny. Neither of us have ever skydived before.”

Sebastian stepped closer, his tone shifting from amusement to something colder. More technical.

1/3

Cupre b

+40 Bonus

“We can’t land the jet,” he said. “Not here.”

Julian frowned. “Why not?”

Sebastian pointed toward the thick, reinforced door still groaning open. The wind howled louder now, rushing in with a bite.

“You’re headed into hostile terrain. No runway, no clear zone. Just deep snowbanks and jagged ridges iced over from centuries of subzero storms. We can’t risk the landing gear–too much wind shear and not enough visibility at ground level.”

He gestured toward the hatch, where swirling white blurred into the open air.

“You’ll be dropping into a wind corridor–cold air funnels through this mountain basin. Once you’re out, don’t fight the drag. Let the wind carry you at an angle. It’ll feel wrong at first, but that’s when it’ll

stabilize.”

His voice dipped slightly as he continued.

“When you hit the colder pocket–like dropping into ice water–that’s your cue. Pull your chute right after

that shift.”

Julian blinked. “What shift?”

Sebastian’s voice cut through the roar of the wind.

“Trust me. You’ll feel it. It’s like the air thins, then slaps you. That’s the break in resistance.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify