Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 75

“How could you?” she seethed, her voice cracking. “You lied to me. To our family. You’ve made a mockery of everything we built.”

Garrick stepped forward in his glass enclosure, palms pressed to the barrier.

“Brielle, no—you don’t understand. I was tricked! It’s not what you think.” His voice pitched with desperation. “She was conceived before you and I were mated. Before the ceremony. It meant nothing—”

But Brielle was already shaking her head, backing away.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her silence said everything.

She turned sharply and strode out, the echo of her heels fading through the corridor as Garrick’s voice called after her—strained, hollow.

“Brielle. Brielle!”

She didn’t look back.

Garrick slumped down in his chair, the weight of his own confession suffocating him.

His shoulders had sagged. His hands, once clenched in defiance, now hung limp against his knees. The shame, the guilt—it radiated from him in waves, thick and bitter. He stared down at the floor, jaw tight, lips pressed in a grim line. A man unmade by his own lies.

The Elder exhaled slowly, the sound weary.

“You mentioned she was wolfless,” he said, tone edged in quiet reproach. “Tell me—did you ever seek treatment from your pack’s physician? For her condition?”

Garrick didn’t answer.

“Many times,” the Elder continued, “a wolf fails to emerge because of trauma. Abuse. Psychological damage. Which, given what I’ve seen and heard today, I wouldn’t doubt for a moment this young woman has endured.”

Still, Garrick said nothing. He merely shook his head, slow and defeated.

“No,” he murmured. “I never did.”

His voice was hoarse. And he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. Not at Kaelani. Not at his mate’s empty seat. Not at the dozens of eyes fixed on him with disgust and disbelief.

The Elder straightened in his chair.

“She is your daughter, Alpha Garrick. Your blood. And as such, she is your responsibility. You will ensure she receives the same care your other children would have received in her place. She will return to Silveredge under your watch, and you will see to it that she is treated—by a licensed physician and a qualified psychiatric specialist.”

A rustle of chains broke the air.

“I am not going back to Silveredge!” Kaelani’s voice exploded across the chamber.

The Elder’s gaze shifted to Kaelani.

Something in his expression had changed—no longer stern or impassive, but touched with something quieter. Something closer to sympathy.

“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed.

But Julian shrugged him off without hesitation.

“I will be her Alpha,” he declared. “And I will ensure she receives the care she deserves.”

A tense beat passed. And then—

“She’s Silveredge property!” Elara shouted, springing to her feet.

Julian’s head snapped toward her, eyes burning with revulsion.

“She’s not a piece of property!”

“Oh, but you want to make her your piece of property, don’t you?” Elara snapped, venom in every word.

“Silence!” the Elder’s voice boomed, reverberating through the chamber like a crack of thunder.

“I’ve just about had enough of you for one day, Alpha Julian.” His voice resounded across the chamber. “Need I remind you that you are still to be held accountable for failing to report your encounter with a misplaced Lycan? Your actions alone violate three separate codes of conduct.”

Julian’s voice was sharp with conviction. “Isn’t it obvious why I didn’t report her?” He swept his arm toward Garrick, fury bleeding through every word. “Look at the shitshow of a pack she was forced to survive in. The abuse, the cover-up, the negligence. She was thrown away—humiliated, abused, ignored. When her bloodwork came back with dominant Alpha markers, I knew something was wrong. Something was being hidden.”