Beastworld Bride: My Seven SSS-Rank Alpha Mates

Elara’s POV

"I’m aware... I’m not moving," Silas panted, his entire physique locked tight with tension.

"Get away from me!" I cried out, my voice cracking under the strain.

Absolutely nothing from those educational clips could have braced me for this reality. A scorching, sharp intrusion made me feel like I was splitting down the middle. My sight went fuzzy, dark dots swimming in my peripheral vision.

He framed my face with his hands, frantically kissing away my falling tears. "Shh, I’ve got you," he whispered gruffly.

"Don’t you even twitch..." I pleaded, hiding my face against his perspiration-soaked chest. My entire form felt distended to its absolute limit, a fullness that bordered on blinding agony. Silas enclosed me in his embrace, supporting me through the severe ache.

"I understand," he ground out, his jaw clenched hard. He remained perfectly motionless, though the immense restraint caused his frame to shudder.

He was enduring his own torment. Triggering his rut artificially had left his senses painfully heightened and exposed. Experiencing me—so petite, clamping around him so snugly—while I wept was absolute hell for him. Hurting me was his ultimate nightmare.

Once he finally started to thrust, maintaining a sluggish and profound rhythm, my brain completely short-circuited. Through the mental haze, I sensed my vines awakening, eagerly absorbing the turbulent, furious spiritual essence radiating from him with every stroke. My personal energy spiked to meet his.

But damn it, the pain was intense! It was utterly overwhelming!

His mouth seared against my flesh, frantic and scorching. I elevated one hand, my weak fingers lightly skimming the rigid, strained cords of his throat. Fighting past the torment, I channeled a modest current of my wood ability straight into his system.

"Elara..." he exhaled, his tone raspy.

"Just use your mouth on mine," I murmured. "Keep quiet."

"Alright..."

——

Kaelen’s POV

An automated voice echoed from the terminal, "Chamber Seven, Silas: Spirit deterioration metric reduced by twenty points! Present spirit breakdown level: thirty-two. Transitioning into the prime stabilization zone. Physiological state: Flawless. Comm-links re-established. Release petition forwarded to the mainframe. Clearance anticipated in moments. Counting down... Cleared. Exit granted."

I barked, "Excuse me?! Twenty points?!"

I swayed on my feet before a dreadful epiphany struck me. I fell backward onto my mattress. The lingering residue of a domain ability, combined with the thick, undeniable aroma of copulation...

"My destined partner... is she sleeping with another male?"

"Then what was the purpose of all that affection she showered on me earlier?"

"What was the significance of that scale she held onto? Did I surrender my feelings for absolutely zero return?"

I watched Julian gouge his fingernails fiercely into his own flesh. A male had artificially induced a rut. The atmosphere hung heavy with raw pheromones, torn apart by spatial fissures generated from an unleashed domain earlier this afternoon. It served as a blatant territorial claim.

Silas’s maneuver was ruthlessly calculated.

He occupied Chamber Seven. That specific musk could only manifest if Elara was currently beside him...

Silas was establishing his dominance over the female. He was ensuring every single rival understood that he was currently the primary focus of Elara’s entire universe.

He was simultaneously flaunting that the female cherished him—cherished him deeply enough to engage in something this intimate. This was despite the fact that he was technically stripped of his marital title to her.

Dorian remained pure and unworldly. Despite his deeply ingrained animalistic drives, he was merely a freshly matured feline. I could see he possessed zero comprehension regarding the gravity of a twenty-point drop. His face showed only raw jealousy—pure bitterness that Silas received permission to walk free.

Barrett’s expression turned black with fury. "That bastard rabbit just claimed her!"

I watched pure aggravation explode in his chest. He punched the energy wall viciously, busting his knuckles open. He glared at his own bleeding skin, observing the fragile vines extending from his wristband curl toward the injury...

Barrett appeared swallowed whole by a dizzying, furious envy. "Why did she pick him? Silas isn’t even legally bound to her anymore!"

Torment and defeat seemed to rip at his soul. He sank toward the floor against the partition, and I could only imagine visions of Elara’s features racing through his brain...

The female had complimented his physique, her gaze sparking with genuine pleasure. He had foolishly assumed she harbored some affection for him, however minuscule.

Commander Barrett, the exact predator who instilled horror into alien insects across countless warzones, physically shook, his pupils shimmering a wet, bloody crimson.

Finnian knitted his eyebrows together severely. He glared at the communication tablet in his grip, caressing his thumb across Elara’s quirky avatar.

"Has she already selected a preferred mate?"

"From the seven of us... she chose Silas?"

A cynical smirk twisted the corners of his mouth. "Why that male? Was it merely because he possessed the ability to shift into a man while the remainder of us were stuck as animals?"

"Elara... if you had witnessed my humanoid appearance initially... would you have favored me just a fraction more?"

Outwardly, Alistair maintained complete composure.

He was the eldest. He grasped the reality of the situation. Every single one of the seven males was anchored to the female. This outcome was absolutely unavoidable.

"I recognize all of these facts, don’t I?"

"Then why... why does the agony cut so deep...?" 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

He refused to ruminate on the heartache. I watched him commandeer the 007 unit.

Elara had previously brought up tilling the agricultural soil. He was perfectly aware of her conservatory’s location. Alistair shoved his possessive wrath aside and entered the structure.

——

Elara’s POV

Later that afternoon

I remained completely unconscious for some time afterward. Salty trails marked my reddened face. Silas’s intensity had simply been too extreme.

Even deep in my drained slumber, my body vibrated with the aftermath—the consuming saturation, the sensitive, profound dilation. Deep in my subconscious, an inner sensation confirmed I had survived the grueling ordeal. I’m still here. I made it. He’s just too damn good.

Silas drew me against his chest, radiating body heat. He prepared a tub, fine-tuning the temperature, and proceeded to gently transport my resting form into the washroom.