Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 606

Chapter 606.

After Julia left the ancestral den, High Elder Hale kept trying to reach me through the Mind–link. But my frequency was still shielded, blocked by the reinforced walls of the Alchemic Den.

I was sitting across from Grayson, my Spirit–Sight Goggles displaying the real–time feed from the Nano–Silver Sentinels inside his body.

They moved like a disciplined miniature silver army, following his Alpha–circulatory system.

Under my precise control, they reached the damaged neural–link areas where his connection to his wolf was fraying.

Their microscopic forms diligently filled the gaps and bridging the connections between his Blood–Core and his physical nerves.

I knew the Nano–Silver Sentinels were working tirelessly, yet Grayson didn’t feel a thing.

They weren’t affecting his wolf’s temperament at all. I felt his gaze on me, steady and golden, even as fine beads of sweat gathered on my forehead.

My skin felt clammy and stretched tight; I knew my face must be pale from the sheer, unwavering focus required to guide the silver swarm. Grayson’s lips were pressed into a tight, grim line. I knew, with a gut–wrenching certainty, that his Alpha pride had never hated his own failing body more than he did right now. My wolf, Nala, brushed against my mind, lending me her stamina.

The treatment pressed on.

Back at the Grand Hall, High Elder Hale wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead, trying to ping Isabella’s frequency one last time. Still, the cold, automatic mental–block informed him her mind–link was off. A cold wave of despair washed over the Elder.

From behind him, Julia’s voice drifted, eerily soft, smelling of predatory intent.

“High Elder Hale,” she purred, “have you made up your mind?”

High Elder Hale’s body stiffened, his fur bristling under his suit. He turned back, meeting Julia’s eyes–eyes that held a fierce, undeniable triumph of a Silvermoon Miller. He gritted his teeth, his resolve hardening. Either way, he was going to offend a powerful Alpha, so he might as well go

all in with the one who was actually standing in front of him.

“Miss Julia,” High Elder Hale’s voice was almost pleading as he addressed her, “We’re counting on you!”

Julia’s red lips curved into a slow, triumphant arc. She looked utterly pleased with herself.

Julia’s eyes, sharp and predatory, seemed to seek mine out across the distance of the territory for a fleeting second. A chill snaked down my spine, her unspoken message burning through the pack–bond: Tonight, Isabella, this stage, this glory that should be yours–I, Julia, am taking it all.

Under High Elder Hale’s personal escort, Julia, her exquisite mask still in place, slowly made her way to the central platform of the Grand Hall. Every single eye in the vast hall was fixed on her, and I could feel the collective hush, the palpable anticipation, as she commanded the spotlight. Every eye in the room was on her.

Her figure was slender, her bearing undeniably haughty, like a Luna–queen ascending her throne. Even with the exquisite mask obscuring her face, her powerful Alpha–blood aura instantly commanded the entire ballroom, silencing every whisper. There wasn’t a single person who seemed to doubt for a second that she was the real Isabella.

“Is this Miss Miller from the Flame Pack?”

“She feels so young,” one Alpha–elder murmured, almost to himself.

buzz.

“Geniuses are all like that,” I heard another whisper through the Howlnet buzz.

Julia’s lips thinned into a tight line behind her mask, and I could practically feel her irritation radiating off her as the crowd kept calling out my name, Isabella. But I knew her ambition. She truly believed that after tonight, everyone would only remember Julia, leaving Isabella–me–a forgotten name in the Silvermoon history books.

Amidst the lingering murmurs, backstage staff wheeled out a Beta patient on a gurney, accompanied by a massive Runic Resonance Scanner. The giant screen on the stage flickered to life, instantly displaying a crystal–clear scan of the patient’s liver. A fist–sized shadow–a malignant growth on the Blood–Core’s physical housing–was starkly visible.

High Elder Hale picked up the microphone, his voice booming across the silent room. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “we will now demonstrate a live tumor removal purge using Nano–Silver Sentinels!”

A collective gasp seemed to ripple through the audience, then a hush fell over the entire hall the moment his words died out. Everyone was utterly captivated, their eyes glued to the stage, watching the unfolding drama.

Wearing the elaborate mask that concealed her true identity, Julia walked with deliberate grace to the patient’s bedside. With every eye in the room fixed on her, she smoothly pushed a syringe, filled with the precious stolen Nano–Silver, into the patient’s vein. Then, she slipped on a pair of incredibly high–tech Spirit–Sight Goggles and took her seat at the control panel.

The giant screen instantly split into two distinct displays. On the left, a real–time Runic scan glowed. On the right, the goggles showed a microscopic view of the Nano–Silver Sentinels as they navigated through the patient’s blood vessels. Countless tiny, silver particles moved like

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a highly disciplined army, marching toward the growth.

The Sentinels reached the region and began their work, breaking it down. On the big screen, the once menacing tissue was slowly, meticulously eaten away, decomposing into even finer particles. The entire process was precise, incredibly efficient, and possessed an almost sci–fi cinematic beauty that left the Alphas in the audience breathless.

Minutes later, Julia made an almost invisible incision on the patient’s abdomen. The Nano–Silver, having finished their work on the growth, carried the metabolic waste out of the patient’s body through the tiny incision, guided by a specialized magnetic device.

On the screen, the large shadow from the Runic scan–it was gone! The screen was stark, chillingly clear. Spotless. The word itself was a punch to my gut as I watched the playback. The purge… it’s done. A bitter, hollow truth.

A stunned silence, a gaping three–second void, then a thunderous wave of applause crashed over the hall, shaking the very air around me. “Oh my God! A miracle! This is an absolute medical miracle for the Pack!” I heard the shouts, the disbelief, the awe. Each word a fresh stab. “It’s unbelievable! A malignant growth, just… gone?” Their voices vibrated with wonder, painting the picture of a triumph that wasn’t mine. “The Flame Pack! Miss Miller! This is going to change the werewolf world!” The praise was a torrent, and every time they called out “Miss Miller,” a jolt of ice ran through my veins. They meant her.

The accolades washed over the room, a relentless tide of adoration. Julia stood bathed in the spotlight on the elevated stage, a smug smile playing on her lips, visibly basking in the worship and amazement of the crowd.

Slowly, deliberately, she removed her Spirit–Sight Goggles. I watched her, the way her chest seemed to puff out, the almost dizzying self–satisfaction radiating from her. The whispers of “Miss Miller” still echoed, a poisoned lullaby, and I could practically feel her ego swelling, growing monumental with every stolen compliment. She was savoring it, every single bit of it.

She’d won. The bitter truth settled deep in my bones. My wolf, Nala, let out a low, mourning howl in the back of my mind. On my stage, one I’d painstakingly built, she’d claimed everything that was rightfully mine.

the

The sheer thrill of it pulsed off her, a blinding, vulgar joy. I could see it in the way she held herself, in the triumphant gleam in her eyes. It was a satisfaction more potent, more intoxicating for her than any praise she could have ever squeezed out of Grayson. This wasn’t just success; it was vindication, theft made glorious.

Her

posture screamed it: Look at me. Look at the one who created this miracle. She wanted them all to see, to acknowledge her as the genius, the innovator, the one changing the world. And in their eyes, she was.

I watched Julia lift her hand, the spotlight tracing her movement as she slowly, deliberately, removed the mask from her face, drawing every single eye in the room. Her intention was clear: she was here to replace me, Isabella. From this day forward, she intended to be known as the sole deity in the field of Nano–Silver Sentinels.

However.

The moment her face was fully exposed to the blinding lights, the roar of even more enthusiastic applause she’d clearly anticipated never came. The thunderous applause, which had moments ago filled the hall, abruptly cut off. An unsettling, almost eerie silence descended instead. And I saw countless eyes fixed on her, wide with shock, confusion, even outright anger. In the front row, I noticed Elder Andrew, the renowned doyen of medical devices, his brow furrowed as he pushed his glasses higher up his nose.

“You… you’re not Miss Miller.”

The instant those words left his lips, the room erupted into a cacophony of voices!

“What? She’s not Isabella?”

“Then who is she? Why is she impersonating Miss Miller?”

“Have we been scammed? Is the Silvermoon Pack playing us?”

A wave of anger, swift and virulent, swept through the audience. I watched as the expressions on all the Alpha–moguls‘ faces hardened, their gazes, sharp as knives, simultaneously drilling into High Elder Hale on the stage.

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