Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 337

Chapter337.

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“You!” Mason glared at Grayson, his wolf bristling with barely suppressed rage at the lingering ache where Grayson’s grip had been. His inner wolf snarled, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Stop slandering Emily! Hasn’t she suffered enough?!”

He practically spat the words, his alpha’s authority heavy in the air.

His wolf still clung to the belief that this was all my doing, a malicious act fueled by jealousy over the pack’s treatment of Emily.

“Slandering?” I laughed, disbelief lacing my tone.

“You clearly misunderstand the meaning.

Being wrongly accused when innocent–that’s throwing dirt.” My own wolf felt a surge of righteous anger.

“And with her history, presenting the facts is revealing the truth! Revealing the truth!”

My smirk held a chilling edge.

“Isabella! Emily couldn’t have harmed anyone! Even if Marcus was wrong, Emily is innocent!” Mason’s howl resonated with fierce protectiveness.

His wolf simply refused to accept the evidence against Emily, clinging instead to an idealized image of her as a vulnerable she–wolf needing his protection.

My expression turned icy. He’d seen the bounty notice on the Howlnet, the scattered reports from the Pack Council; he just chose not to believe it.

To him, Emily remained the weak she–wolf in need of protection, and I was the villain disrupting the Silvermoon Pack’s harmony. Mason pointed at the mushroom soup, searching for incriminating evidence.

“You say you’re not targeting Emily! Then why did you order these dishes?!” His wolf w spicy dishes, not these light ones!

ely grasping at straws.“You prefer

You deliberately ordered her favorite, limited–edition mushroom soup! Isn’t that targeting her?” His voice rose in agitation, believing he’d found the smoking gun to prove my “malice” and exonerate Emily.

His wolf’s logic was childish, a desperate attempt to deny the truth.

“If I remember correctly, we arrived first, and I ordered first. How am I targeting her?” My wolf’s amusement warred with a growing frustration.

The waiter, unable to remain silent, chimed in, “Ms. Miller ordered four pots of mushroom soup, not realizing she had ordered four, and finished the rest.”

The waiter looked at Mason with unconcealed disbelief. His wolf sensed the truth, as clear as the scent of the forest after a rain. “The facts are clear, and you still claim I’m slandering my own sister? Is that really something a brother would do?”

My wolf found this amusing and a flicker of a smile played on my lips.

“Not anymore.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the finality chilling even to my own wolf.

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