Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 27

Jace’s brows lifted, his tone edging toward disbelief. “If you were dreaming about Elara, why not just call her? Would’ve been a hell of a lot easier.”

Julian’s gaze snapped to his, something sharp flashing there before he looked away, jaw tightening. A beat of silence stretched, then he muttered, “It wasn’t Elara.”

The weight of the admission hung between them. When Julian finally glanced back, the look in his eyes told Jace everything he needed to know.

Julian stayed slouched against the sofa, one arm draped along the backrest, the other pressed hard against his temple as though that might ease the storm in his head.“The truth is…” His voice came low, “I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. Even my wolf—he’s smitten. He recoils at the very sight of Elara.” He gave a humorless laugh, sharp as glass. “It has to be because of the rut. I’ve never rutted any female before. My wolf’s…confused. That’s all.”

Jace crossed his arms, studying him with a gaze that saw far too much. “And what if he’s not?”

Julian’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing.

Jace didn’t flinch. “What if your wolf senses something in her that you’re not ready to admit yet?”

“Don’t.” The word cracked like a whip. Julian sat forward, elbows braced on his knees, voice clipped. “Don’t go there.” He knew exactly what Jace was hinting at, and it twisted like a blade in his chest.

He scrubbed both hands over his face, groaning low. “Even if that’s the case, what the hell am I supposed to do? Bring a wolfless omega home and announce her as Luna?” His jaw clenched hard enough to ache. “My father won’t have it. Neither will the pack.”

For a long moment, silence pressed in. Jace only watched him, the unspoken hanging thick in the air.

Jace finally broke the silence, his tone quieter but edged with curiosity. “Still…doesn’t it bother you? Why her former Alpha kept her existence buried?”

Julian’s head turned sharply, confusion flickering across his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jace arched a brow. “Seriously? I know you read her file. I saw it wasn’t in your trash can anymore.”

Julian’s jaw ticked. “I skimmed some of it. Elara barged in before I could finish.”

Jace leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. “Then you should finish it. Because I did read it. And trust me, there are things in there you’ll want to see.”

Julian exhaled slowly, pushing up from the sofa. His strides carried him back to the desk, his hand already reaching for the top drawer. The folder lay waiting, right where he’d shoved it days earlier.

Julian pulled the folder free, flipping it open with a snap. The pages whispered as he turned them, his eyes catching on the bold stamp across the top of one sheet.

No Records Found.

His brows furrowed. “That’s impossible. Every wolf is required to be listed in the Lycan Registry.”

“Exactly,” Jace said, his voice low, deliberate. “But she isn’t.”

Julian’s gaze dragged back over the page, as if staring harder might force the truth to change. His wolf stirred uneasily beneath his skin, pressing against his ribs.

Jace leaned in a little closer, his tone edged with weight. “And for the record? That file on her with the picture—it wasn’t from her pack registry. I had to dig deeper, pull on connections I don’t like to use. The only documentation I turned up was from the pack orphanage she grew up in.”

Julian’s jaw clenched, fingers tightening on the edge of the folder. The silence stretched, heavy with implication.

Other—Secondary Origin: Unknown

The last line sat stark on the page, black ink that seemed to burn into him the longer he stared.

Julian’s head lifted slowly, his eyes locking on Jace’s. “What the hell does that mean?”

—-

Meanwhile, Kaelani wore the same look of disbelief. The bathroom light was too harsh, too real, glaring off the mirror as she gripped the sink. Her nightgown clung to her in damp silk, plastered to her trembling body.

Her reflection stared back—wide-eyed, horrified.

Her hand rose for the third time, brushing over her collarbone before sliding higher, fingers grazing the curve of her neck. The skin there burned beneath her touch.

And when she leaned closer to the mirror, her stomach dropped even lower.

A mark. His mark. Not the pale scar she’d grown used to hiding. This was new. Raw. Red. Right where his teeth had sunk into her in the dream.

“No,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

She stumbled back from the mirror, shaking her head. “It was just a dream,” she whispered again. But the raw mark on her skin said otherwise.