Beastworld Bride: My Seven SSS-Rank Alpha Mates

Elara’s POV

The headline read, "Valerion Empire Crown Prince Cassian: His Darkest Secrets."

I’d attached several photos from the male "fight"—all shot at cunning angles to spark wild speculation.

The blurred mosaics were practically pointless; anyone familiar with Cassian would recognize him instantly.

The lengthy post painted Cassian as gay with theatrical flair and even revealed his private suite location in Glimmeraven Port.

With my fake account driving the buzz, online spectators quickly pieced together the narrative: Cassian had been betrayed by his secret lover, and the photos surfaced after their quarrel.

[No wonder he ditched Elara Sterling. Even without the spiritual power drama, he was the issue.]

[Poor Elara.]

[Same, I pity her.]

I paid to rocket it straight to trending—so explosive it couldn’t be removed. Crown scandals this massive never died quickly. Gay romances among male beastmen were typical, but nobody had ever exposed them openly. The masses devoured it, so pulling the post down was impossible.

——

Cassian’ face remained puffy when Rosalind called him in frantically—and struck him once more.

Everything unfolded precisely as Elara had orchestrated.

——

Elara’s POV

I felt weightless and free. I’d finally achieved my payback.

Previously, the original Elara had been the empire’s laughingstock—no female had ever faced public rejection. Now the situation had completely reversed.

With all my enemies eliminated, I was ecstatic. Stuffing my fresh credits away, I embarked on a shopping marathon: towers of treats and stacks of novels.

Snacks for my flesh, books for my spirit—both were essential.

Adorable dresses? Absolutely.

Gorgeous shoes? Purchase them.

Luxurious lingerie? A couple of pieces.

Beauty products? Without question.

I had an amazing time. I’d assumed everything would cost a fortune, but prices were surprisingly reasonable.

My hover scooter was packed tight, and I’d only blown around 50 thousand credits. Remembering my risqué outfit set made me wince—it had been ridiculously overpriced.

The attendants from before tailed me throughout. One documented my every action, while the other handled any additional expenses.

They probably thought that since I was Mr. Pendragon’s woman, they couldn’t mess up, and with his personal brand visible, it wouldn’t be long before he came back.

——

Cassian wasn’t foolish. He rapidly figured out the disaster was likely connected to "Si." But his reaction was too delayed. Trevor had earned his manager position not only through his elite spiritual power, but through his keen judgment of character.

Silas’s mark was on Elara, making her their highest priority to safeguard. Trevor had witnessed everything that evening and understood precisely what had occurred. He didn’t require instructions on what to do.

The moment Elara departed Glimmeraven Port, every sign of her presence there was erased.

Investigation? Where would they possibly search?

——

Elara’s POV

I stayed out all evening. When I finally got back to Voidferal Feral Territory, dawn was nearly breaking. I crammed all my purchases into my storage space and headed toward the kitchen.

The instant I entered, 007 materialized—time to receive my wages. I’d worked for some time now. "Apart from the 200 thousand credits forwarded earlier, you’re due another 4.8 million credits."

Wait? A promotion?

I was elated—even preparing breakfast seemed effortless now. I whipped up mushroom cream soup with seaweed flakes, plus the tiny treats I’d brought back from the coliseum.

I couldn’t recreate those elaborate coliseum pastries myself, only basic meals. Those cakes had flawless layered centers and tasted incredible. I’d sampled one and craved more, but couldn’t locate them anywhere in Glimmeraven Port.

Considering the weapons the boys had gifted me, I set aside the remaining cakes for them.

After breakfast was finished, I didn’t carry it myself—I passed it to the robots. I’d stayed up all night and was drained. I hurried back to collapse.

——

In his room, Silas noticed the small cakes and grinned slightly.

"Seems like those fools aren’t totally clueless after all," he thought.

People with regular careers needed wake-up calls; workhorses like them didn’t.

Over on Waste-mire World, Vance and Jasper were barely surviving.

Their supervisor was a powerful bear beastman with A-class spiritual power, carrying a whip embedded with razors. These pampered young aristocrats had never labored a single day.

It was disgusting, reeking, and they received no meals. They slept very little each day and shoveled waste continuously.

Vance’s spine was marked with fresh and healed injuries. Jasper looked identical.

Most crushing of all, their wounds from Elara hadn’t recovered, and the grueling labor was agony. With nobody from the Blackwood family arriving to buy their freedom, both were psychologically shattered.

Initially, they’d sworn at Elara constantly. Now, they pleaded for mercy. They prayed daily for rescue—they never wanted to shovel waste again.

Thorne had visited a few times, but couldn’t meet them, and the cost kept climbing. Each of their ransoms had reached 50 million credits.