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Kneel For Me: The Immortal Queen's Shadow Novel Cover

Kneel For Me: The Immortal Queen's Shadow

I was an arrogant, canceled reality TV star, trying to salvage my ruined reputation on a live broadcast. But after I lost my temper and assaulted a cameraman, my furious grandfather chased me into our family's forbidden gallery, where I accidentally crashed into an ancient, sealed portrait. The canvas shattered, and a terrifying woman with glowing golden eyes stepped out of the wall. She was Cecil, the First Matriarch of the Marshall family. She caught a lightning bolt with her bare hands and crushed me to my knees with an invisible, suffocating pressure. My grandfather, instead of saving me, groveled on the floor and abandoned me to her mercy. "You are the disgrace that will end this family." She hijacked my entire life, forcing me to act as her submissive baggage handler on my own survival reality show, broadcasting my humiliation to millions. I didn't understand why this ancient monster was tormenting me. Why did she strip away my pride, treat me like a broken tool, and force me to endure the mockery of the very ex-girlfriend who had ruined my life? But when those same cast members tried to corner me in the dark woods, Cecil stepped in front of me, her eyes locking onto the silver ring of the man mocking me. "To catch the wolf, one must sometimes walk with the sheep." That was when I realized she wasn't here to destroy me—she was here to hunt the parasites who had been secretly siphoning away my life force.
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Chapter 7

The black SUV rolled to a stop at the edge of the forest clearing. The cameras were already waiting, their lenses focused on the tinted windows.

Aedan pushed his door open. He stepped out, sliding his aviator sunglasses onto his face. He straightened his shoulders, trying to project an air of cool indifference. He was a star. This was his show.

He turned back to the car, expecting to see Cecil struggling with the modern door handle, looking out of place and foolish.

The rear door opened.

Cecil stepped out onto the gravel. She was wearing a pair of fitted black trousers and a crisp, white button-down shirt, topped with a long, tailored black trench coat. Her silver hair was pulled back in a sleek, low bun.

She looked modern. She looked powerful. She looked like she owned the place.

The live chat on the production monitors exploded.

Holy shit, it's her!

She looks amazing!

That coat costs more than my car.

Cecil stood still for a moment, her hands in her pockets. She looked around the campsite with an expression of mild distaste. The cheap tents, the portable toilets, the noisy generators-she found it all beneath her.

She turned her head and looked at Aedan over the top of her sunglasses.

It was a simple look. A glance. But it carried the weight of a command.

Aedan's swagger vanished. He swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping slightly. He reached up and took off his sunglasses, his fingers fumbling with the frames.

Cecil tilted her chin toward the back of the SUV.

Aedan hesitated. His pride screamed at him to refuse. But his body, conditioned by the previous day's torment, moved on its own. He walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk.

Inside were two large, heavy suitcases. They looked like they were filled with rocks.

He grabbed the handles and lifted. The weight nearly pulled his arms out of their sockets. He let out a grunt, his face turning red.

Cecil didn't offer to help. She simply turned and began walking toward the cabins, her long strides eating up the distance.

Aedan struggled to keep up, the wheels of the suitcases catching on every rock and root. The cameras followed him, capturing every grimace, every stumble.

Is he carrying her bags?

Aedan Marshall is a baggage handler?

This is the best thing I've ever seen.

As they passed the communal fire pit, the other contestants were gathering. They stopped talking, their eyes wide.

Katia Ramsey was sitting on a log, her perfect blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She gripped her sunglasses so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were narrowed, a flicker of jealousy and suspicion in them.

Grove Greene was standing nearby, holding a mug of coffee. He looked Cecil up and down, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his face. He looked like a man who had just found a new toy.

Leo Vance gave a polite, if confused, nod.

Aedan was halfway across the campsite when the wheel of one suitcase caught on a large stone. The suitcase twisted, pulling him off balance.

"Damn it!" he yelled, kicking the stone. He dropped the bags, his chest heaving. "I'm not doing this anymore!"

Cecil didn't turn around. She didn't stop walking. She simply raised her hand and tapped her temple with one finger.

The memory of the crushing pressure, the feeling of his bones about to snap, flooded Aedan's mind. The threat was clear.

He let out a frustrated groan, bending down to grab the handles again. He yanked the suitcase free and continued walking, his head down, his ears burning with humiliation.

He's like a trained puppy!

Who is this woman and where can I get one?

Cecil stopped in front of the cabin assigned to them. She turned and looked at Aedan, who was sweating profusely, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"Inside," she said, her voice flat. "Unpack."

Aedan dropped the suitcases on the porch with a heavy thud. He glared at her for a second, then stomped into the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

Cecil stood on the porch, her back to the cameras. A faint, satisfied smile touched her lips. She looked up at the sky, watching a news helicopter circling in the distance. The technology was strange, but the concept of surveillance was familiar.

She turned and walked into the cabin, leaving the other contestants to their whispered speculation.

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