Every Knee Shall Bow Book Novels & Stories

— Xander — I had never knelt for anyone. Not for men with more power. Not for men with more money. Not for men who thought fear could bend me into something smaller than what I was. Power wasn’t given, it was taken. And once you had it, you didn’t bow. You didn’t lower yourself. You didn’t break. So when he said it— “Kneel.” The word didn’t land as an order. It landed as an insult.

No one deserves to be tortured for being born different Unable to stand me any longer- I guess, Leo bows "Yes, my King,” he says before he starts walking to the door, suddenly he pauses at the door. "For what it's worth... I hope she's worth it."

No crossing the line unless it was truly mutual. Bracing myself, I tilted my head upward, closing the distance. My lips grazed along his jaw, hesitant at first, tracing up until they hovered just centimeters from his own. My heart thudded violently in my chest, a warning and an invitation all at once. I kissed him. I expected him to pull away, to push me off and even demand answers, to scold me for testing boundaries. But he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me back. His lips met mine with a measured pressure that shattered the last threads of restraint I had mustered. Surprise shot through me, mixed with a thrilling rush of something dangerous, like surrender.

I do a little bow with my head before walking out of the room. As soon as I’ve stepped around the corner and walked down the hallway, I increase my pace, running the last steps to open the wing doors to the library. I pass the shelves filled with books as the sobs are already escaping my throat. Turning the corner, I let myself fall into a big bean bag, and hug myself as I take a deep breath, feeling panic taking over. It would already be bad if they heard me cry but getting a full-blown panic attack would be much worse. So, I try to channel my breaths into my stomach slowly, inhaling through my nose to keep me from hyperventilating.

I replied with a humorous tone, making Daisy giggle. She breathed a deep sigh after the slight giggle and blurted, "Well, that's a valid point you raised. In conclusion, whether male or female, both are important. I can't wait to be called a mother." "You will. With faith, you can move mountains, as stated in the Bible," I replied, and my eyes spotted a very beautiful dress on the shelf. "This gown is so beautiful. I think it would suit you best," I remarked, limping to unhang it.

"On your knees then." Cleopoda had heard all of this in fear that the person in the cell would come to her too and command her to go on her knees too. She was so scared she barely made a sound, barely breathe until she heard the locks of the cell clink again. Now as she shook on her hands and knees she feared the person may have heard her after all and decided it was her turn. She quietly lifted her hands off the floor and rested on her bony knees so he wouldn't hiss words at her. Maybe if he saw her already on her knees he would leave her alone and let her be.

Elaine gazes between me and the security team before bowing slightly. "Lower." I insist, and her body stiffens before she begins once again lowering herself. "Lower." "Anymore and my back will give out." She utters, the irritation in her voice is evident. "Lucky for you…” I drawl in a whimsical tone that does not match the situation. “You have flexible knees that can carry you as low as you need to go; thank the goddess for youth, huh?" "You want me to kneel to you?" "I want you to pay your respects to the reigning Luna of Dermont. Is that an issue? Especially given your almost treasonous admissions and oh…look around us, nothing but witnesses.”

Cleo had never knelt for anyone in her life. Not a man, not a boss, not even a teacher in her Catholic school days when all the other girls bent down during prayer like trained dogs. She always stood taller than the room allowed, with her sharp mouth and eyes that dared you to tell her no. But tonight, in the center of a luxury hotel suite that smelled like whiskey, leather, and sin, she was kneeling on the floor, head bowed, mouth red, thighs bare, and shaking like she wanted to be ruined.

CONRI’S P.O.V My knee bent and I knew that if I did not bow then my bone would tear out of my skin. I unwillingly went down with one knee, refusing to bend the other just as a light pore from the ground. It was a blinding light as my head bent, not because I wanted to but because of this great force that just sat on my neck, forcing it to bend. I finally understood what my people felt in my presence. It was not a nice feeling and I hated it. I wanted to roar and tear through whatever was making this happen. My heart drummed, not sure what was happening, my head bent but I could feel something.

“Obedience is rest. No decisions, no weight. Let me hold you safe. Kneel.” For a heartbeat, I wanted it. To be the girl before fire, before verdict. Nyxara roared inside me. ARE YOU GOING TO DIE KNEELING? The crown tightened. My knees faltered. “Up,” I told myself, and pressed my palm to the note. I burned the sound out. Silence fell. The crown shrivelled to ash at my feet. “Ungrateful child,” he snarled. “Right word,” I said. “Wrong mouth.”