Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 30

The sound of bodies hitting the ground echoed across the training field—sharp, rhythmic, unrelenting. Julian moved through his men like a storm given form, every strike clean and precise, but there was something off in his rhythm. Too much force. Too little restraint.

Jace ducked a blow from one of the warriors before slamming the man to the ground, glancing over just in time to see Julian send another sprawling across the dirt with a vicious kick. “You planning on leaving any of them alive?” He called out—breathless, but half-amused.

Julian didn’t answer. His eyes were dark, movements too sharp. Another warrior hit the dirt with a strangled gasp.

“Again,” he barked, his voice slicing through the air like a blade.

The seasoned warriors exchanged wary glances but obeyed. None dared question him. They reset their stances and circled in once more.

Julian met their charge head-on, his strikes a blur, strength barely reined in. The wolf inside him prowled just beneath the surface, restless, hungry for release.

He caught an opponent’s arm, twisted, and swept his legs out from under him with brutal efficiency. The soldier hit the ground again—harder this time. Julian didn’t even flinch.

“Again,” he snapped.

“Alpha,” Jace said finally, tone calm but firm. “You keep this up, they’ll be crawling to the infirmary.”

Julian ignored him, wiping sweat from his brow, chest heaving. “They need to be stronger. Everyone up. Again!”

The warriors scrambled to their feet, panting, sweat slicking their skin. No one dared speak. The Alpha was in one of his moods—wound tight, silent, dangerous.

“Julian.”

The single word cut through the noise like a command from the heavens.

Julian stilled instantly, muscles coiling as he turned toward the voice.

His father, former Alpha James Hale, stood at the far edge of the grounds—hands clasped neatly behind his back, posture immaculate. The faint breeze caught the silver in his dark hair, but it was his eyes—sharp, assessing, impossible to read—that silenced everyone.

“Dismiss your men,” James said, voice calm but leaving no room for argument.

Julian’s gaze dropped, jaw tight.

James studied him for a long beat, then sighed. “You’re a grown man, Julian. It’s not a crime to… indulge yourself once in a while. Every Alpha needs an outlet.” His tone softened slightly, but there was a warning beneath it. “But you’ve been seeing Elara for two years now. I thought you’d finally found contentment with her.”

Julian’s jaw flexed, the word contentment sitting wrong in his chest — heavy, suffocating, false. He reached for the canteen at his side and twisted the cap, more for something to do with his hands than thirst.

“I am,” he said finally, taking a long drink to mask the lie. “Elara and I are fine.”

James watched him over the rim of his folded arms, expression unreadable. “Fine.” The word lingered in the air like smoke. “You sound like a man convincing himself.”

Julian lowered the canteen, meeting his father’s gaze. “What exactly are you implying?”

“That your behavior has been off lately,” James replied, voice even, but his eyes were sharp as flint. “You working all hours of the night, you barely speak to Elara, and half the pack’s afraid to breathe wrong around you. You call that fine?”