Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 390

Chapter390.

On the other end of the mind–link, my voice was frail, cracking like ice under a thaw.

Mason listened, tears welling in his eyes, but in the dream, he was with Emily, who had just finished a trivial violin performance. He’d clearly heard my desperate plea, yet he snapped at me impatiently.

His wolf cowered, ashamed.

“Isabella, enough! You’re in prison, can’t you be a little quieter? Don’t you know Emily has an important recital today? Why do you have to seek attention right now?”

Mason muttered “no,” wanting the phantom Mason in the dream to retract those cruel words. I was dying! I struggled to catch my breath, taking several deep breaths before trying again. But Mason impatiently severed the

connection.

“No-!” Mason jolted awake, cold sweat soaking his prison furs. He gasped for breath, his heart pounding wildly. His chest felt crushed by a boulder. He knew I was fine, that he was the one behind bars, and the nightmare was impossible–but it felt so real. My desperate eyes burned into his mind’s eye.

He covered his face, whimpering in anguish. What had he done? How could he have treated me like that? I was his

sister!

A tidal wave of guilt and pain engulfed him. It turned out he was the cruelest, coldest one of all.

On the day of the trial, Mason was escorted to the defendant’s seat by pack guards. In just a few days, he seemed to have aged ten years, his body withered, his eyes dull. He kept glancing toward the gallery, hoping to catch a glimpse of me, even if it was to mock him. But the seats were packed with victims and their families, glaring at him with venom. I wasn’t there.

A bitter smile touched Mason’s lips. I hated him so much that I didn’t even want to witness his downfall.

The judge sentenced him to ten years.

In prison, during the midday meal, the usual educational Howlnet broadcasts were replaced by news footage. On the screen, I stood under the spotlight, beside Steven, a researcher from Fire Pharmaceuticals. Our research project had made a significant breakthrough, winning a major international award. The light from the screen illuminated Mason’s haggard face. He sat in his prison furs, staring blankly at the radiant me. How could I be so successful?

He suddenly recalled how he’d casually diverted my talents, giving them to Emily whenever Emily expressed envy. Gradually, he’d viewed me as inferior to Emily in every way. Mason chuckled at his own foolishness.

That night, Mason tossed and turned on the cold cot, nightmares haunting him. He dreamed of diverting resources from Fire Pharmaceuticals to Emily’s insignificant “Jade Porcelain Skin” project, hindering Fire’s valuable research. No matter how I tried to dissuade him, he stubbornly pursued his course. Eventually, their foreign rivals published their research first.

The scene shifted abruptly. I worked tirelessly to develop a new medicine, finally achieving a breakthrough. But

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Emily wept alone, whispering, “If I’d studied harder, could I have been as good as Isabella? I was just so envious of

her…”

So, Mason erased my name from the project and replaced it with Emily’s. They brazenly stole my breakthrough, standing on the podium that should have been mine, basking in applause that wasn’t theirs. Down below, I was a lonely, fragile shadow.

“No!” He screamed in his dream, frantically shaking his head. He wanted to rush up and stop his foolish self. He wanted to tell everyone the truth. But his body was just a shadow; he couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t stop anything. He could only watch his dream–self push his sister into the abyss.

“No…” Mason woke up drenched in sweat, heart hammering wildly. The prison’s darkness suffocated him. He clutched his face, nails digging into his paws. How could his dream–self be so despicable? How could he do that to his own sister?

The mental trauma and harsh prison conditions rapidly broke him down. He developed a high fever, drifting in and out of consciousness, his health deteriorating fast.

After that night, Mason fell seriously ill. His fever wouldn’t break; his consciousness was clouded. When Mason woke up again, he was in a hospital bed. He’d been injured many times, visiting the pack’s infirmary often. Seeing this, he realized he was no longer in prison.

He moved slightly; the clink of restraints against the bed rails echoed. A guard stood up immediately. In a raspy whisper, he asked the guard, “I want to see my sister. Please contact her… My sister is Isabella…”

The guard routinely recorded this request, passing the message on. The response was-“Miss Miller doesn’t want to see you.”

The light in Mason’s eyes dimmed rapidly. In his dream, he refused to believe me, refused to see me. Why would he think I would come to see him? His last shred of hope to live was severed. He resisted treatment, refused food, wasting away visibly.

The healers tried to persuade him; but he didn’t react, his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.

The healer said he had severe Blood Dormancy, a deep depression of the wolf spirit. Only after experiencing this mental anguish did he realize how absurd Emily’s frequent mentions of “depression” and her melodramatic cries for help had been. Her so–called depression was just a ploy for sympathy! She’d probably never spoken a single truthful word.

Mason bitterly twisted his lips. He’d hurt his real sister for a lying, vicious she–wolf. What a damn fool. Mason couldn’t distinguish between dreams and reality, but when he heard a visit was approaching, a flicker of hope ignited. He’d refused to see Emily and Andrew; the only one who could be visiting was me. However, the one who appeared in the ward was- Grayson.

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