Beastworld Bride: My Seven SSS-Rank Alpha Mates

At the bottom of the medical kit sat painkillers for menstrual cramps and heating pads.

Silas had considered every possible need and packed accordingly.

Alistair endured another restless night. He rewrapped Elara’s injuries following Silas’s instructions and administered fever reducers, yet her temperature refused to break. Her cheeks blazed crimson.

"Thorne..." Elara whispered weakly through her delirium.

The soft murmur sliced through the silence like a blade. Alistair stopped mid-motion, clutching a damp cloth. He settled beside the bed, studying her fevered face as his chest constricted painfully.

"Does she care for him so deeply?" he wondered.

Her next words shifted everything. "Can’t wait to write that hurt/comfort story about you three..."

Alistair released a shaky breath. The reference escaped him, but the butler robot’s translation system clarified the meaning. He pressed the cloth gently against her forehead.

"My mate’s absolutely adorable," he thought.

He reached for another cloth, dabbing her neck and underarms to reduce her body heat.

Elara whimpered softly, her brow creasing. Alistair jerked the cloth away, watching her intently. This mechanical form wasn’t his true body—he lived in terror of accidentally harming her.

"Dr. Pendragon..." she mumbled.

Alistair remained silent.

Elara rambled on, "Si... that scandalous lingerie set..."

The fever made her delirious, spilling her secrets. "You’d be stunning in it."

"Tell me where it is. I’ll wear it right now." Alistair felt his sanity slipping.

She might dismiss those three fools, but Silas clearly held her interest.

"Not gonna tell..." Elara slurred through her haze before drifting back into unconsciousness.

Alistair sighed deeply.

"Her heart already belongs to someone. Is there room for me?" he wondered.

The pain struck him like a physical blow.

Elara muttered, "Alistair... you massive, creepy serpent... your mouth is enormous. Do you actually devour people?"

Alistair stayed quiet.

"My darling, I only devour you," he thought.

Please recover quickly. We’re all desperate to have you back.

Silas’s medication proved incredibly effective—healing both her external injuries and breaking her fever. Elara’s recovery accelerated dramatically after the treatment.

Alistair relayed the positive update to Silas. Both men exhaled with profound relief, anxiously awaiting her awakening.

Over the next few days, Elara’s fever stayed away. She perspired heavily. Alistair was cleaning her body in the early morning light when her eyes finally fluttered open.

——

Elara’s POV

I squinted at the "butler robot" caring for me and managed a weak smile.

Morning sunlight bathed the robot’s face, bright yet gentle—I didn’t need to look away.

Through the mechanical exterior, I glimpsed Alistair.

"Hi," I whispered.

The moment my hoarse voice reached him, Alistair whirled around in shock. The robot body couldn’t display genuine emotion, but it released a series of mechanical, jerky sobs—more comical than touching.

I had a twisted sense of humor, but I grimaced before I could laugh. Everything hurt too much. "Keep being this ridiculous and you’ll tear my stitches."

"I apologize. I’m just overwhelmed that you’re finally conscious. I... I was terrified." He knelt beside my bed, his mechanical arms floating uncertainly, unsure where to settle.

I glanced down, noticing his careful restraint. I cleared my throat gently. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Alistair shook his head frantically. "I’m thrilled to look after you."

He looked immensely relieved, as if counting his blessings.

"I’m sorry..." I whispered, tears streaming down my face. Illness always left people vulnerable. It was impossible not to fall for someone who’d stayed beside me, providing constant care through a robot body day and night.

Especially when that someone was Alistair, whom I’d never truly given a fair chance.

"Don’t say sorry," Alistair said, grasping my hand while the robot’s head bowed. "I didn’t conceal myself skillfully enough. I frightened you."

My heart raced even faster.

I parted my lips and murmured softly, "You rascal."

Alistair stared, speechless.

He wasn’t confused for an instant—I used that phrase frequently enough that he understood its exact meaning.

"You... You said that to me?" He looked at me as if wondering if I’d finally accepted him.

I nodded. "I know you’re my husband from Chamber Five."

I could see pure joy, excitement, and complete disbelief in his expression. "I... I assumed you... So you’ll accept me?"

"Why wouldn’t I?" I’d been unable to open my eyes while unconscious, but I’d sensed his presence throughout. I’d experienced his tender, constant care through the robot body, day and night.