Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 146

Night had swallowed the desert, but the heat hadn’t loosened its grip.

It clung to Julian’s skin like a second hide–heavy, suffocating. Every breath scraped his throat raw, lungs burning as if they’d forgotten how to draw air properly. His tongue felt swollen, useless. Dry enough that swallowing hurt.

His legs moved on instinct alone.

One foot. Then the other.

Boots dragged through sand that no longer shifted–it crunched beneath them now, hard and unyielding. Muscles screamed with every step, calves locking, thighs trembling. His shoulders ached from the weight of his pack, straps biting into skin already rubbed raw.

They were running on nothing

The last of the water had been gone for hours.

Jace stumbled beside him, posture slumped, breaths shallow and uneven. His face was pale beneath the grime, lips cracked and bleeding, eyes glassy with exhaustion.

Julian didn’t remember when they’d stopped talking

Talking cost too much,

The desert stretched endlessly ahead–dark, merciless, stars burning cold above them like witnesses who didn’t care whether they lived or died.

Then-

“Julian.”

Jace’s voice was hoarse. Barely there.

Julian forced his head up, vision swimming. The horizon blurred, doubled, then steadied again as he blinked hard.

“What?” he rasped.

Jace lifted a shaking hand, pointing

“Please,” he said, a broken edge of disbelief threading his words. “Please tell me you see what I’m seeing.”

Julian followed the gesture.

At first, he thought it was another trick of dehydration. A hallucination born from desperation. His heart stuttered painfully in his chest as he stared.

Dark shapes broke the monotony ahead.

Not sand.

Trees.

Real ones.

Low at first–scraggly silhouettes—but unmistakable. A shift in the land. A whisper of green where there had only been death.

And then— between the shadows.

Moonlight glinted.

Water.

Still. Reflective. Small–but undeniably real.

Julian sucked in a sharp breath that tore at his chest.

“No way,” he whispered.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, blinking hard, then looked again.

It was still there.

His heart slammed against his ribs, sudden and violent

“I see it,” he said, voice cracking, “1–yeah. I see it.”

Jace let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob.

They didn’t say another word.

Both of them dropped their packs where they stood and broke into a run.

Pain vanished beneath adrenaline.

They reached the water and collapsed to their knees at the edge, hands plunging in, not caring about dirt or sand or anything

else.

Julian scooped water to his mouth again and again, drinking like a madman, choking as it spilled down his chin. He dunked his face beneath the surface, gasping as the cool shock hit, then splashed water over his head, his neck, his chest.

Jace did the same beside him, laughing breathlessly between gulps, hands shaking as he dragged water over his face like he was afraid it might disappear if he stopped.

Julian lifted his head.

The haze that had dulled his thoughts for days was gone burned away by water, pain, and proximity to something else. His vision sharpened. His heartbeat steadied. Instinct surged to the surface like it had been waiting for permission.

He pushed himself to his feet and turned back toward where their packs lay abandoned in the dirt several yards behind them.

Jace groaned faintly but didn’t stop him

Julian crossed the sand with purpose now, boots crunching over dried earth. He dropped to one knee beside his pack and yanked it open, fingers going straight for the inner pocket. The map came free–creased, worn, edges soft from being folded and unfolded too many times.

He spread it across his thigh.

His eyes traced the inked lines. The landmarks. The warnings etched in a hand long dead.

Then he looked up.

At the trees.

They rose from the edge of the desert like a wall–dense, twisted, dark even under moonlight. Their branches tangled together overhead, blotting out the stars. No wind moved through them. No insects sang. The forest stood in unnatural silence, like it was holding its breath.

Chapter 147