บททั้งหมดของ Let Them Kneel: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

A long silence followed the Elder’s opening declaration, stretching over the chamber like a held breath. Then, the one seated at the center of the semicircle rose to his feet.He was the eldest among them—his presence calm but commanding. Silver at his temples, a single braid trailing down his shoulder, and eyes like polished stone—he spoke with a weight of authority earned through decades of judgment.“The Council recognizes that this hearing was delayed as additional context was reviewed in the last forty-eight hours,” he said, his gaze sweeping across the chamber. “This hearing has been convened to examine the circumstances surrounding the rogue Omega brought before us. We proceed now to question those whose testimony may aid in determining the truth.”He turned his head slightly, the air in the chamber tightening.“Alpha Garrick Blake,” he continued, gaze steady as it swept toward the opposite side of the room, “you have been called before the Council for questioning. Step forward

Kaelani’s body thrummed with power.A surge of energy crackled through her like lightning beneath her skin — wild, uncontainable, alive.For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel inferior.She didn’t feel helpless.She felt dangerous.A low, guttural growl rumbled in her chest — dark and primal. Her wolf… it was there. Breathing. Pacing. Snarling. No longer silent. No longer buried. Her lips parted as the sound vibrated through her, something feral uncoiling in her bones.So that’s what that feels like.They had spent her whole life warring within her —The beast and the lightning in her blood.The wolf and the other half of her identity.Each clawing for control.Each refusing to yield.But the moment her freedom was threatened…They stopped fighting.They rose.Together.Her eyes snapped to him — Julian.Pinned. Restrained. Thrashing beneath the guards trying to hold him down.Something inside her snapped.Her wolf surged at the sight of him, a furious, possessive snarl tighte

A sharp jab to her ribs snapped Kaelani out of unconsciousness.She gasped, body lurching upright as her eyes flew open—only to be met with a flash of steel and light.A half-dozen spearheads, glowing with crackling energy, hovered inches from her face.She sat up instinctively—and instantly regretted it.The circle of weapons closed in, humming with a power she didn’t recognize.The metal tips shimmered with an iridescent sheen, like moonlight dipped in oil, and veins of bright gold energy pulsed along their shafts.They weren’t just spears—they were alive with magic.The figures wielding them wore armor darker than shadow, etched with glyphs that writhed when she looked too long.Tall, silent, and unmoving, they stared down at her with eyes like smoke-washed silver—gray and gleaming—a color that eerily mirrored her own.She could feel it in the air—not just power, but command. These were no ordinary guards. The ground beneath her buzzed with an energy she didn’t understand, and the

A sudden screech shattered the silence.Kaelani surged to her feet, her chair toppling backward with a loud clatter against the stone floor. Whispers ceased and startled glances from the nearby revelers were drawn by the sudden commotion.The six warriors who had escorted her instantly snapped to attention, spears drawn with deadly precision. The gold-veined tips glowed faintly as they leveled them at her chest.Kaelani didn’t flinch.Her eyes burned as she stared past them, fists clenched at her sides. “What have you done to her?” she demanded, voice trembling with fury. Draevyn didn’t so much as lift a brow.He swirled the last of his wine, watching the dark liquid dance before bringing the glass to his lips. One slow sip. One long moment of silence.Then: “Nothing she didn’t deserve.”The words struck like a slap.She took a bold step forward—met instantly by the threatening hiss of spears adjusting, tips grazing the air in warning. Still, she didn’t back down.“Deserve?” Her voic

The trees thinned as they crossed the old threshold into Blackthorn territory, the familiar scent of pine and ash settling like ghosts on Julian’s skin. He hadn’t been home in a week, but it already felt foreign. Too quiet. Too steeped in judgment.The gates opened for them.No fanfare. No welcome. Just the groan of iron and the weight of eyes watching from the shadows.By the time the vehicle rolled to a stop outside the packhouse, the moon had climbed high, casting the manor in a wash of silver. Julian stepped out first, his boots crunching against gravel with a heaviness that matched the churn in his gut. The others followed, silent.“You’ll both rest tonight,” James said at last, his voice clipped but tired. “At first light, we’ll convene in the Hall of Vows.”Julian gave a slight nod. He hadn’t forgotten the rite—only tried not to think about it. That ancient hall had borne witness to every oath passed through their bloodline. Of course it would witness his surrender.“The Counci