Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 3

Jace’s hand lingered briefly on the doorframe before he stepped back. “Rest. I’ll get you some water and ice. Maybe call the pack physician—just in case.”

“I said I don’t need a physician.” Julian’s growl was sharp, but Jace didn’t flinch. He only inclined his head once, obedient as always, before closing the door behind him.

Silence pressed in. Julian exhaled hard, dragging a hand through his hair. Heat crawled over his skin like wildfire, his pulse hammering. He yanked off his jacket, then tore at the buttons of his shirt until it hung open. His boots hit the carpet with a heavy thud, socks following.

But the heat didn’t ease. It thickened, crawling lower, curling hot and urgent between his thighs. His cock surged, hard and unyielding, pressing against the line of his slacks until he had to bite down a curse.

Julian froze. His eyes cut to the small paper bag sitting on the desk — the one holding the honey cake he’d bought without thinking.

The scent rolled across the room, sweet and spiced, clinging to him like it had the moment he stepped inside that bakery. He grabbed the bag, tearing it open, lifting the cake to his face. The aroma hit harder, sharp and intoxicating.

His cock twitched, straining painfully against his pants.

Julian swore under his breath, knuckles white around the bag. “What the hell are you doing?” He snarled at his wolf. “You want to fuck a pastry now?”

But his wolf didn’t answer with words. It surged forward, hungry and unrelenting, dragging him to his feet, every nerve alive with a single demand: find the source.

The cake wasn’t enough. It was only a thread — a trail. And his wolf would follow it.

The door clicked open a short while later, Jace stepping inside with a bucket of ice balanced in one hand and his phone in the other. “Alright, Julian, I’ve got—”

He stopped cold.

The suite was empty. Julian’s shirt and trousers lay in shreds across the carpet, boots kicked halfway beneath the desk. The paper bag sat torn open on the floor, honey cake smashed against the edge of the table.

Jace’s gaze snapped to the window. The curtains swayed, pulled by the evening breeze through a gaping hole. The glass was shattered, glittering across the carpet like spilled diamonds.

He crossed the room in two strides, leaning out to scan the street below. No wolf. No Alpha. Just the faintest shadow where the bushes had been crushed near the curb.

“Fuck,” Jace muttered, shoving a hand through his hair. His pulse kicked up, sharp and fast. “This is not good.”

Meanwhile, Kaelani shoved her key into the lock, her hands trembling, and pushed the door open. The moment she stepped inside, the warmth hit her like a wall. Not the cozy kind she’d built here over the years. This was suffocating, burning from the inside out.

She tore at her clothes as she stumbled down the hall — blouse, boots, jeans — leaving them in a trail behind her. Her nails dug into her own skin as though pressure alone might ease it, dragging across her arms, her stomach, her thighs. But the itch wasn’t on the surface. It was deeper, gnawing, primal.

By the time she hit the bathroom, she was naked, breath ragged, her body flushed pink with heat. She twisted the shower knob hard, water crashing down in a freezing spray. She stepped beneath it, gasping at the shock.

But it wasn’t enough.

The cold slid over her burning skin, raising goosebumps, but the fire inside her only roared hotter. It curled low in her belly, tightening, demanding, pulsing in places she had never felt so raw, so desperate. Her hands braced against the tile, forehead pressed forward as she choked back a sound that was half-whimper, half-growl.

No relief. No escape.

The water poured colder, sharper, and still it couldn’t put out the fire consuming her from the inside.

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