Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 315

Chapter315.

I lifted my head in frustration, only to meet Grayson’s handsome face, adorned with a faint, almost teasing smile. My eyes were red from anger; it was clear he wasn’t taking me seriously! My wolf snarled, a low growl rumbling in my chest. A surge of anger washed over me; and I pushed him away forcefully, turning my back on him.

“Hiss

Grayson winced in pain, gasping as he clutched his chest, bending slightly as if he were really hurting.

His wolf’s whimper was barely audible, masked by the powerful alpha scent that still clung to him.

I heard some commotion behind me, and my anger dissipated slightly. My wolf, however, remained wary. But then I thought, this guy was just. messing with me; he was probably faking it! My wolf remained skeptical.

I pursed my lips together, trying to harden my heart and ignore him.

But my wolf remained alert, its senses heightened.

Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I still perked up my ears to catch his movements.

Grayson rubbed his chest, gauging my reaction, and realizing I was genuinely upset, he quickly softened his tone, coaxing me in a low

voice, “Sweetheart, don’t be angry, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t joke about this again. Forgive me, okay?” His voice was laced with genuine remorse, his alpha scent softening, becoming more vulnerable.

His gentle words were difficult for me to resist. But thinking about how he might have been seriously ill in my past life, leaving me helpless and alone, I felt both angry and helpless.

My wolf whimpered, the memory causing a fresh wave of pain.

Seeing that I was still ignoring him, Grayson sighed heavily, giving in.

“Isabella, I’ll go to the Healer tomorrow for a full check–up, okay?”

His voice was laced with a hint of desperation, the alpha submission clear even to my wolf. He felt he was being controlled by his sister; if I frowned, he had to comply.

My wolf felt a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt.

My stiff body relaxed slightly. He knew I genuinely cared about him. But this care was overwhelming; he was in his twenties, but felt like he was seventy or eighty and dying. My wolf ached with empathy.

He rubbed his chest, saying, “If only I could have a bowl of healing broth to help me recover.” He had only mentioned it casually to lighten my mood, but I took it to heart. My wolf felt a surge of protective instinct.

“Alright.”

The word was barely a whisper, yet filled with unwavering determination.

The next morning, I entered the kitchen. The maid preparing breakfast was startled to see me up so early.

“Miss, why are you up so early?”

I nodded and opened the fridge to take out the ingredients I had prepared the night before.

My wolf was already hard at work, focusing on preparing the healing broth. Seeing me about to start cooking, the servants hurriedly surrounded me, saying,