Let Them Kneel

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless.

Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans.

She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice.

But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes.

Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin—

summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire.

When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin.

For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted.

Seen.

Chosen.

Until he leaves her the next morning—

like a secret never to be spoken.

But Kaelani is not what they thought.

Not wolfless. Not weak.

There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking.

And when it does—

they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase.

Especially him.

She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive.

Because secrets never stay buried.

And neither do dreams.

Kaelani’s hands knew the rhythm of kneading dough better than they knew the warmth of touch. The wooden counter beneath her palms was dusted in flour, the yeasty scent of rising bread clinging to the air. Behind her, the ovens hummed, filling the small bakery with the comforting perfume of sugar and spice. For five years, this place had been her sanctuary. A life she had built with her own hands — quiet, steady, safe.

“Another batch of cinnamon honey cakes?” Tessa’s voice chimed from the front, playful as always. “You’re going to ruin my figure if you keep making those.”

Kaelani smiled faintly, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. “They sell out first. You know that.”

“They sell out because half the men in town come here hoping you’ll smile at them while you hand them a bag,” Tessa teased, loud enough that a customer chuckled on his way out.

Kaelani rolled her eyes, her cheeks warming as she pressed her fists into the dough. This was how mornings usually went: Tessa bantering, Kaelani pretending not to notice. It was simple. Predictable. Human.

Kaelani dusted her palms on her apron and moved toward the front counter, her gaze drifting absently through the wide bakery windows. Across the street, sleek black cars rolled to a stop in front of the new hotel. Men in pressed suits stepped out, polished and important, their voices carrying on the autumn wind.

A year ago, that corner had been nothing but an empty lot overgrown with weeds. Now the glass-and-steel hotel stood gleaming like it had been there all along, casting a long shadow over the old brick storefronts. Progress, people called it. Kaelani called it trouble.

The hotel had dragged change into town like an uninvited guest — outsiders with too much money, talks of expansion, even rumors of a highway cutting right through the countryside. It wasn’t her business, not really. But the bakery had always been a place for neighbors, for locals, for familiar faces.