Five Alphas Kneel for Me (Isabella) novel Chapter 650

Then Grayson said something through our psychic link that made my heart drop into the cold abyss of the underworld.

My mother’s body had been stolen!

My mother, deceased for twenty–two years, couldn’t even rest in peace within the sacred ancestral grounds of the Silvermoon Pack

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“Isabella?” Grayson’s voice cut through my thoughts, gentle with concern. He must have noticed my sudden stillness, my pheromones turning sharp and acrid with shock. He stopped blowing my hair dry.

He gently held my shoulders, turning me to face him.

The moment his eyes met mine, I saw his Alpha composure crack, a sudden shadow falling over his face.

My face felt utterly blank, devoid of any anger, any grief, anything at all. Her wolf was eerily silent, her eyes glowing a cold, predatory white within the depths of my mind.

Just a profound, dead calm.

And my eyes… they must have been black, like two bottomless whirlpools, churning with a silent, destructive storm that threatened to tear the bond asunder.

I knew my stillness was hurting Grayson more than any dramatic outburst ever could.

I felt his heart ache for me through our Blood Bond, a silent plea in his eyes, wishing I would just break down, scream, or howl in agony.

“Isabella, don’t.” His voice was low, laced with raw concern. He pulled me tightly into his arms, resting his chin on the crown of my head. “Let me handle

this.”

I remained motionless in his embrace.

For a long, long moment.

Only then did I gently push him away.

“No.”

My voice was a mere whisper, yet it carried an arctic chill that could freeze a heartbeat.

“I’ll handle this myself.”

I pushed back the furs, got to my feet, and changed.

Two minutes later, I emerged from the walk–in den closet, dressed in a sleek, black athletic outfit made of reinforced rogue–hide.

My long hair was pulled up into a tight, high ponytail, exposing my clear forehead and eyes that held not a trace of warmth.

Grayson was already fully dressed in his Alpha leathers, leaning against the stone doorframe, waiting for me.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Sub–level three, in the special reception room of the Sanctum,” Grayson said, his voice clipped.

Ever since Orion had uttered those words yesterday, I knew he’d been kept in the Healing Sanctum’s most secure area, deep underground where the silver–alloy walls suppressed rogue telepathy.

I nodded, then started walking.

Grayson followed me, and his hand naturally found mine.

My hand felt ice–cold in his, and he squeezed it, trying to transfer some of his warmth through our skin–to–skin contact.

I squeezed his hand back.

We walked in silence, taking the private lift straight to the third basement level of the Sanctum.

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< Chapter 650.

The lift doors slid open.

A sterile, pure white corridor stretched before us, the walls and floor crafted from a special silver–alloy, gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen.

Every five meters, a fully armed Pack Enforcer stood post, their claws partially extended in readiness.

As we passed, every single one of them bowed in unison.

“Ms. Miller, Alpha Grayson,” they murmured.

I didn’t spare them a glance, my gaze fixed on the heavy iron door at the far end of the corridor.

Grayson remained right beside me, a constant, unwavering presence.

At the door, two more guards pressed their signet rings to the blood–seal, and the heavy alloy door slid open without a sound.

Inside was a room that was stark, minimalist to an extreme.

Just a stone table. Two chairs.

Orion was already seated in one of the chairs, his back to the door.

He must have heard our entrance because he turned, his pupils slitting like a predator’s.

The moment his gaze landed on me, his sharp, hawklike eyes lit up.

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But then his eyes narrowed, just perceptibly, as he registered Grayson by my side, our hands still tightly clasped together in a display of mated unity.

‘You’re here,” Orion said, his voice surprisingly light, almost casual.

I knew why he seemed so at ease, even semi–imprisoned here. It was a testament to his own arrogance, a belief in his untouchable Alpha power, and his certainty that I wouldn’t dare touch him until I had news of Sunny.

I didn’t say a word. Instead, I simply led Grayson to the chair opposite him, pulling him close as we sat.

My gaze swept over the untouched water and food on the table, and I deliberately kept my expression blank as I lowered my eyes.

Orion just smiled, a knowing curl of his lips. I didn’t need him to spell it out. He knew about my healing essences, knew they could be used to control a wolf’s spirit–core, and therefore, he wouldn’t touch a single drop of water or a crumb of food I’d left out for him.

But then, a sudden, animalistic awareness flashed across his features. His body tensed, his fur bristling beneath his clothes, and he sprang from his chair, spinning around as if to bolt.

He lunged, clearly desperate not to be trapped, not to be suppressed by the silver–walls.

But just as he turned, the heavy alloy door that had been left open moments before clanged shut with a decisive, echoing thud.

Then, a series of sharp, mechanical whirs cut through the silence.

The silver–alloy walls around the room suddenly fissured, splitting open in stark, precise lines.

Jozens of dark muzzles designed for silver–spike deployment emerged from the newly formed gaps, swiveling in unison to train on him.

A dense cluster of spirit–sight markers, stark red, instantly peppered every one of his vital points–his throat, his heart, his spine.

At the same time, my own voice, cold and steady, cut through the sudden tension from behind him.

Where do you think you’re going?”

Orion froze, his body rigid in place, his inner wolf snarling at the silver threats.

He slowly turned, his gaze settling on me, still sitting calmly in the chair.

His gaze held a new understanding, as if he finally grasped that the “little pup” he once knew was gone, replaced by a fully armed Alpha she–wolf with he pack’s technology at her fingertips.

He’d seen me transform from a meek lamb into a fully armed, mechanized force of the Silvermoon Pack. But when you’re fully armed, are you still

amb at all?

You don’t have to do this.”

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< Chapter 650.

He raised his hands, palms open, signaling he wasn’t a threat to the pack.

“I’ll tell you everything. You don’t need to control me. I actually came here to talk to you about this very thing…”

A deeply mocking smile curved my lips at his words.

I slowly stood, taking one deliberate step after another until I stood before him, my scent dominating the small space.

“I don’t believe a word you say. I only believe what I’ve ‘seen‘ with my own eyes, directly from your mind through a spirit—link.”

The moment the words left my lips, the room’s door, once again, was violently ripped open from the outside!

A flood of he–wolves, clad in black combat gear and tactical masks, surged into the room like a relentless tide of shadows.

They carried the most advanced silver–resonance restraint weapons, instantly swarming Orion until he was completely cornered.

His pupils constricted sharply, flashing a desperate gold.

He recognized them.

These were the Alexander Pack’s elite guards.

It struck me then, the terrifying force Grayson and I created when we worked together as a mated pair.

I saw the silver–restraints nearing his wrists, poised to lock down his transformation.

He knew it, I could see it in his eyes–if they caught him and bound his wolf, he’d lose his last shot at escape.

In a desperate, last–ditch effort, he roared my name, the sound vibrating the very stones of the Sanctum.

“I’ll take you to Aunt Grant!”

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