Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 581

Chapter 581.

The bionic puppet ‘Isabella‘ received a psychic pulse when its runic stone chimed, and it replied immediately.

Grayson, on the verge of boarding his sky–vessel, checked the spectral trace of the message. It was still within the Los Angeles sector of the Silvermoon territory, and I knew that would put his Alpha mind at ease.

By then, I had already changed into an unassuming traveling cloak and tunic, donning a low–brimmed cap and face–wrap, and boarded the sky–vessei to the R–Realm.

Ten hours later.

The capital of the R–Realm.

After I stepped out at the R–Realm’s capital sky–port, someone was already there to meet me. My wolf sniffed the air, detecting the sharp, territorial nusk of elite royal guards.

Not far away, a spirit–lift vessel sat waiting, its rotors humming with kinetic energy.

boarded the spirit–lift, and it slowly ascended.

The wind whipped up by the vessel’s rotors carried a strange, acrid smell towards me – a mix of gunpowder, scorched earth, and silver–dust.

From my vantage point in the spirit–lift, I could see armed wolf–warriors everywhere on the streets, packs rushing by in panic, and claw–marks and bullet holes scarring the mottled stone walls.

This place was a powder keg, ready to blow at any second, a pack–war waiting to erupt.

And Grayson’s worries? They weren’t unfounded. My wolf let out a low, uneasy growl in the back of my mind.

My spirit–lift touched down directly on a secret landing pad within the royal palace grounds.

The hatch swung open, and a blast of intense desert heat washed over me.

ust ahead, a middle–aged man dressed in pristine white furs and silk stood waiting.

recognized him instantly; he was the High Alpha King of the R–Realm, a man I’d only ever seen on the Howlnet transmissions.

Miss Miller, welcome,” the King greeted me warmly.

His tone, his entire demeanor, conveyed a message loud and clear: he was speaking to me as an equal, despite my status as a younger she–wolf.

watched the Royal Guard captains around us, their faces a strange mix of shock and an unsettling sense of normalcy.

understood then why the royal guards had looked both shocked and unsurprised. His love for his fated–mate was absolute, as vital to his wolf as his >wn life.

understood why I was treated with such deference. Anyone who could save the Luna Queen was a VIP, a friend to the king. It made sense he’d extend his level of respect to a young woman like me.

How is the Queen?” I asked, skipping any unnecessary pleasantries and getting straight to the point.

A shadow fell over the King’s face.“It’s not good,” he said, his voice heavy, sounding like a wounded Alpha.“Just yesterday, she suffered another soul–heart cessation. The healers say… she might not make it through the week.”

The raw grief in his voice was unmistakable.

Through his sorrow, I felt the agony of a lifetime’s blood bond about to slip away, the kind of pain that gnaws at a wolf’s very

It made me feel a flicker of warmth toward him.

We took a shadow–carriage to the main palace where the Luna Queen resided.

soul.

I had already reviewed the Queen’s medical scrolls before arriving. After getting out of the carriage, I efficiently changed into a sterile healing suit. The moment I stepped into the Queen’s room, which also served as her high–level healing sanctum, I switched into professional mode.

This was a private chamber transformed into a top–tier healing ICU.

Dozens of state–of–the–art alchemical instruments whirred, their crystals flashing with various lights, and pulsing steadily.

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< Chapter 581.

On the hospital bed lay an emaciated she wolf.

This was the Luna Queen of the R–Realm.

From the medical scrolls I’d reviewed, I knew the Queen had been tormented by her illness for two long years.

Her skin was sallow, waxy, and her eyes were hollowed out. If not for the faint, almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest, I would have sworn she was a mummified corpse.

The moment I saw her, my mind immediately jumped to severe muscle atrophy, as if she were suffering from the Wasting Blood–Sickness.

Seeing her, my mind immediately flashed to Grayson, to the terrifying thought of my Alpha looking like this someday!

My breath hitched. My wolf let out a sharp, pained whimper of terror.

The medical experts standing nearby–Betas and high–born healers–saw my reaction, and they didn’t even try to hide their disdain for my youth…

But I only paused for a moment before snapping back to it.

Seeing the Queen’s condition, I felt a surge of professional excitement.

Even if the specific case was different, this would definitely help my research for Grayson’s treatment.

I’d come to the right place.

I walked to the Queen’s side, opened the box with the nano–alchemical spirits, slipped on the specialized AR sight–lenses, and fastened a silver–white bracelet around my wrist.

Immediately, a surge of deep blue, almost liquid light, flowed from the hand–ring into the Luna’s veins, vanishing from sight.

Across the AR lenses of my goggles, streams of sapphire data began to flash at a dizzying speed.

The entire royal suite fell silent, broken only by the soft hum of the monitoring equipment.

After a meticulous examination, as I recalled the nano–spirits, I announced my diagnosis: “This is…the late–stage manifestation of Progressive Neuronal Necrosis Syndrome.”

Beside me, the royal medical team stood stiffly, led by a silver–haired Alpha healer of the D–Lands Pack.

I caught the flicker of distrust in his eyes as he looked at me, so impossibly young in this room of elders.

“Just because you’ve made some breakthroughs in medical devices doesn’t mean you know everything, young lady. Your diagnosis is far too premature!”

I didn’t let his skepticism sting. Instead, I listened patiently to the old man’s words.

“This is clearly the Wasting Blood–Sickness! We’ve already tried every targeted potion and gene–ritual imaginable, and none have worked. But I don’t believe that reflects on our capabilities; after all, it’s a terminal illness that modern healing simply can’t cure!”

The words “Wasting Blood–Sickness” and “terminal illness” hit me like a physical blow. My heart gave a sharp, painful twist. My wolf bared her teeth in silent defiance.

My face, however, remained a mask of calm as I replied, “This is a terminal illness even rarer than the Wasting Blood–Sickness. The patient’s motor neurons die at an incredibly rapid rate, leading to widespread muscle atrophy and, eventually, complete respiratory system paralysis.”

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