Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 36

The next morning came too soon.

The bakery was quiet—only the low hum of the ovens and the faint scent of sugar and yeast filling the air. Kaelani stood behind the counter, slipping a fresh tray of pastries into the heat, the soft glow from the oven brushing her skin. She’d been there since before dawn, like always. The first to arrive, the only one awake while the rest of the town still dreamed.

Her body moved on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere—still tangled in yesterday. Julian’s sudden appearance, his voice, his eyes. The way his presence had burrowed under her skin like a splinter she couldn’t pull free. She hadn’t slept at all last night, afraid to close her eyes, afraid to see him.

Because in her dreams, she was too weak for him. Too willing.

Kaelani rubbed her temple, leaning back in her chair once she’d retreated to her small office. The soft tick of the clock filled the silence. Her eyes were heavy, burning. Just a minute, she thought. The bakery didn’t open for another hour. Just a minute to rest.

Her head tipped back against the wall. The world dimmed.

When she opened her eyes again, she wasn’t in her office.

She stood outside the grand hall of her old pack—the air crisp, music faint in the distance. Her reflection shimmered back at her from the glass-paneled doors: the red dress from the boutique window, hugging her frame like it had been made for her. Her hair was swept up in an elegant updo, loose curls framing her face, a vision both foreign and familiar.

For a heartbeat, she almost didn’t recognize herself.

Kaelani reached for the handle and pushed the glass doors open.

Stillness greeted her.

The grand hall stretched wide and golden, chandeliers glittering overhead, their crystals scattering soft light across the polished floors. But the space was empty. The tables—draped in white linen, trimmed with gold—stood untouched. The candles flickered, though no one was there to light them.

Of course.

She almost laughed. Leave it to her subconscious to grant her the one thing she’d always wanted—and still find a way to make it hollow. A dream ballroom without dancers. A wish granted without a heartbeat inside it.

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