Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 530

Chapter 530

The man pulled out his mind–link crystal and pulsed a specific frequency.

“Miller,” he muttered into the crystal, his voice heavy. “The plan… it failed.”

A moment of silence stretched from the other end of the psychic link, then a grim voice cut through it. “What happened?*

“I don’t know,” the man said, his voice trembling. “That she–wolf and her pup from the Grayson family came out of the Sentinel Station acting like they’d lost their minds. They’re saying they won’t press charges under the Ancient Wolf Treaties, don’t want the silver, just begging to be let go.” He paused, a shiver running through his words. “Grayson definitely got involved. His methods… they’re just too terrifying for common wolves”

Useless!” Andrew roared from the other end of the line, and then the link went dead.

I knew Andrew’s rage would explode. Back in his inner den, his wolf would be clawing at the walls of his mind, and he must have hurled his crystal against the stone floor. I could almost feel the vibrations, picturing the obsidian surface instantly shattering, splintering into a thousand angry shards of dark energy.

Not Grayson again!

Always him.

I knew he had painstakingly orchestrated this whole scheme to trash my reputation within the Silvermoon Pack and send Fire Pharmaceuticals trade–stock plummeting. But just like that, Grayson had effortlessly neutralized it again with his Alpha weight.

I could almost picture him seething, his wolf snarling in the shadows of his soul, knowing how effortlessly Grayson had dismantled his plans, making it look like nothing at all.

That feeling of powerlessness, of being utterly crushed by a superior Alpha, must have been driving him completely insane.

I could practically feel the cruel edge of his smile, the silent promise that he wasn’t about to let this go.

The Miller estate.

I saw Lola descending from the fourth–floor training den, her presence immediately noticeable.

She was clad in a form–fitting ritual yoga outfit that clung to her slender, perfectly sculpted figure, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination of the males in the pack.

As I passed the third floor, my steps faltered.

My own door. It was slightly ajar, a narrow crack revealing just a sliver of darkness.

I figured it must have been the maid–wolf, forgetting to close it after cleaning.

I knew what instantly flashed through Lola’s mind: my classically elegant den, filled with all my cherished Luna possessions.

I could practically see her, her footsteps instinctively softening to a hunter’s prowl, her wolf’s senses glancing left and right, confirming the hallway was utterly deserted of other sentinels.

Then, as if possessed by some twisted impulse, she’d have crept in, silent as a stalking cat, slipping through the crack.

My spacious den, with its blend of minimalist luxury, would have greeted her. My own cool, clean scent–the scent of a high–born she–wolf–would still be lingering in the air.

I can just imagine her eyes sweeping across the space, like a rogue surveying a newly conquered territory.

She’d have pulled open my desk drawer, revealing my design drafts–sketches with fluid lines and innovative concepts that even the Great Elders would

admire.

But I knew she wouldn’t understand them. She’d have just pursed her lips, flipped through them with a dismissive hand, and tossed them back in. Then, she’d move to my closet, pulling open the doors.

Inside, meticulously hung, would be all the latest designer hides and silks–each one worth a small fortune in pack silver.

Lola’s eyes darkened as she peeked into my room through the cracked door. The familiar flash of resentment I saw was unmistakable; she was undoubtedly stewing over Grayson’s unwavering kindness toward me, his chosen mate.

Even though Wendy pampered Lola too, what she got from Wendy was nothing compared to everything Isabella possessed

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difference in status.

A bitter resentment churning inside her wolf, she began to rummage through the room.

She knew better than to touch Isabella’s clothes, afraid I would catch the scent of a trespasser. But jewelry was a different story; it wasn’t as easily missed by the eyes. So, she picked out a few pieces she liked and began trying them on.

Suddenly, her gaze landed on the desk and froze.

On my desk, a neat stack of manuscript paper lay, dense with musical notation.

I knew she’d been groomed like a proper pack–heiress by Wendy since childhood, and that included extensive violin lessons for the Great Lunar Rites.

So, naturally, musical scores weren’t unfamiliar to her.

Curiosity drew her closer, and I watched her pick up the top sheet.

She only took one look before she froze, completely still.

The melody seemed to sucker punch her wolf, stripping away all pretense from her face.

Just replaying it in my mind, I felt like I was hearing the most divine soul–howl, pure heaven.

Sweeping and magnificent, yet tinged with a deep pathos and struggle, the emotions built in layers, complex and utterly captivating.

This was, without a doubt, a monumental masterpiece, a piece that could stir the very depths of a werewolf’s soul during a blood moon.

My heart hammered in my chest, a thrilling rush of adrenaline flooding my veins.

I rapidly flipped through the rest of the score, my awe escalating, my excitement surging with every note.

If I could perform this piece in the national violin competition, the championship would absolutely be mine for the taking!

Then I would become famous overnight, the brightest new star in the music world of all the packs!

Once that thought sparked, I couldn’t push it down.

quickly glanced back at the door, making sure no one had entered, and the hallway remained perfectly silent.

I snatched the stack of sheet music, folded it in half, and shoved it straight down the front of my tight ritual yoga top.

she’d moved with such desperate haste, shoving everything back onto the desk and slipping out of the room, probably not even registering the sharp edges of the music sheets digging into her skin.

ust as she reached the stairwell, she crashed straight into me!

ola froze, the music sheets in her chest nearly tumbling out. She snapped her head up, her eyes colliding with my calm, unwavering gaze. My wolf ilted her head, catching a sudden spike of guilt in Lola’s pheromones.

said nothing, simply watching her.

I… I just came from the gym!” Lola blurted out, her voice so high–pitched it barely sounded like her own.

My gaze swept over her dry forehead–no sweat from a workout–then down her spotless yoga outfit, finally landing on her flushed face.

still said nothing.

But my silent stare was sharper than any accusation, my Alpha–blood making her instinctually want to expose her throat.

ola’s face burned crimson, and she seemed to forget how to breathe. She wouldn’t dare stay another second. Pressing her hand hard against her chest, he rushed past me, her head down.

A door slammed shut with a loud bang down the hall.

A muffled thump, followed by frantic, gasping breaths, reached me from inside Lola’s den. I could almost picture her, sliding down the door, her wolf whimpering in terror as she struggled to catch her breath.

Minutes later, the frantic sounds subsided, replaced by an unsettling silence. I could almost feel her pulling the crumpled scores from her yoga top, the initial terror giving way to a burning, almost feverish excitement as her gaze fixated on the notes.

She rushed to the runic terminal, her fingers trembling as she snapped photos of the sheet music and uploaded them to the International Howlnet Patent Registry.

She hit search.

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Waiting.

The page

refreshed.

A single line appeared: “No similar records found.”

The piece was clean, utterly unblemished by any other wolf’s signature!

Lola’s heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst from her chest.

She was due to compete in the national qualifiers for the Vienna International Violin Competition–the most prestigious rite for musical Alphas–and had been desperate for a show–stopping piece.

Now, this piece lay right before her.

A smile of pure, wild ecstasy bloomed across Lola’s face.

This was simply fate, a divine intervention from the Moon Goddess just for her.

t became excruciatingly clear to me what Lola’s twisted logic must have been: if a masterpiece lay unclaimed by a blood–mark, it was simply hers for he taking.

I could almost hear the cruel words forming in her mind about me: “Isabella, that empty–headed she–wolf, possessed such a treasure and just let it zather dust, completely oblivious to its worth. What a tragic waste!”

She must have truly believed that only when she, Lola, played it, would this piece finally shine, finally unleash its true brilliance for the Pack.

Yes, that was it. Her grand justification.

n her eyes, she wasn’t stealing. No, she was rescuing art. A savior of the soul–melody, even.

And with that convenient twist of logic, any sliver of guilt she might have felt vanished completely, leaving her conscience utterly clear as she prepared o claim my soul’s work as her own.

Meanwhile, I returned to my room, a vague sense of unease gnawing at me. Something felt off.

‘d always been obsessively possessive of my things–an Alpha trait–and even the slightest change never escaped my notice. Now, the air in my den felt different, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible scent of pheromones that definitely wasn’t mine. t was Lola’s scent–sharp, oily, and laced with lingering anxiety.

My gaze swept across the room, finally settling on the desk. My wolf growled low in my mind, her hackles rising. Intruder. moved closer, my gaze scrutinizing the stack of neatly arranged manuscript paper.

ts position seemed subtly off, just enough for my lupine eyes to notice.

My hand reached out, flipping through the pages.

My stomach plummeted, and a cold dread washed over me. My wolf began to howl in silent agony, sensing the loss.

The top few sheets were just my rough drafts, pieces I’d scribbled down and discarded.

But the complete, finished score, the one I’d poured my soul and my wolf’s very essence into, was gone!