Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 283

father’s health? Was his father having another emergency?

My wolf growled, low and anxious in my chest.

Something’s wrong. Something big.

No, no, no! What were we even thinking?

I sat in the antechamber, gazing at the moonlit sky, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind.

My wolf whimpered, a poignant memory surfacing.

Seventeen years ago, when I was five, a pup. Grayson was applying for the gifted youth program in the Moonstone Pack, beating out Andrew, who lost the opportunity.

My father, the Alpha, had high hopes for Andrew, and other Alphas constantly flattered him. After Andrew failed, my father, feeling embarrassed, disciplined him harshly, stating he couldn’t even beat a three–year–younger Grayson.

Andrew, filled with resentment, confronted Grayson with his brothers.

My wolf felt the sting of that memory.

The five Miller brothers attacked Grayson, even five–year–old Alexander.

Five against one, but Grayson didn’t back down; he fought back, injuring them while getting hurt himself. Our father and the Alpha’s

scribe took the five brothers to the Moonstone Pack Healer’s den.

At the den, they met Grayson. The five brothers, even angrier, deliberately cried out in pain while having their wounds tended to.

Little me, only a pup, was heartbroken for my brothers, tending to them at the den–fetching water for one, licking another’s wounds, and bringing snacks for the others.

My wolf remembered the fierce loyalty of a puWhat kind of emergency could make him make an exception this time? What could be more important than his p.

The little ball of fluff was bustling around, drawing attention and affection from the injured pups, who begged their parents for another sister.

Among them was Grayson. His mother had died in a hunting accident, and his father was grief–stricken and neglected him.

He had been taken to the Healer’s den by the Alpha’s scribe.

Young Grayson, stubbornly pursing his lips, watched me, who, despite being busy, remained cheerful, tending to my brothers with a sweet smile. He wanted a sister, but his mother was gone, and there would never be another sister.

My wolf felt a pang of sympathy for the lonely young pup.

Young Grayson left the den dejectedly, waiting in the corridor for the scribe. At that moment, little me came out of the room, quietly slipping a piece of jerky into his hand, gently licking his injured paw.

I looked up at him, showing my little white teeth, “There, there, no more pain, pain–pain go away!”

The door to the antechamber opened, and I turned at the sound, looking toward the entrance. Grayson’s gaze met mine. My face

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seemed to merge with little me from that day. My wolf felt a surge of emotions, a mix of fear, longing, and remembrance.

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Grayson entered the antechamber; his coldness vanished, replaced by gentleness. His voice, however, remained cold, “Did Mason cause you trouble?”

I bit my lip. Later, Grayson went to the Moonstone Pack’s training grounds, only returning occasionally during the Blood Dormancy Period. I grew up, influenced by my brothers, viewing Grayson as a rival.

While not actively hostile towards him, I was cautious and kept my distance.

The most I could recall about our interactions was that moment. I couldn’t help but wonder–was it just because I gave him a piece of jerky when we were pups that he would do so much for me?

Maybe his kindness was simply a means to create a bond with the Miller brothers, gaining access to their most precious sister.

What if, later on, I wasn’t their most treasured sister anymore?

Would he stop caring about me?

My wolf felt a surge of vulnerability.

The impulse threatening to overwhelm me suddenly turned cold upon seeing Grayson. My wolf braced itself.