Elara’s POV

"Wind Blade, rise!" Barrett’s roar echoed under the moonlight. His power flared bright and showy while Finnian activated his domain beside him, his longsword cutting through the air with cold precision.

I watched, thoroughly amused. The simulator’s power readings showed all seven guys were basically tied—their stats barely separated.

T1 Tier: Alistair, Kaelen, Barrett, Silas, Finnian—only 5 points between them.

T2 Tier: Julian, Dorian—just 5.5 points behind the leaders.

Let them duke it out. I’m done here.

After dinner, I grabbed a shower. Still had time, so I packed up the strawberries heading to Glimmeraven Port. Before leaving, I shot a message to the group chat: "Got an errand to run. Don’t wait up when you finish beating each other senseless."

I added the other five to our chat and renamed it: Our Clashing Family.

Basically, I’m the chaos coordinator around here.

Alistair had built me this insane closet—nine floors of pure luxury, like my personal shopping mall, complete with butler bots. Everything organized by style and season behind glass panels. As I headed out, a robot handed me a crossbody bag that matched my outfit perfectly.

I’d thrown on a color-blocked ice-silk top, gray pleated skirt, knee-high socks, and sneakers. Checking myself in the mirror, I flipped my hair and smirked. "Damn, I look cute."

A quick swipe of lip gloss, and I grabbed my umbrella—the one with the hidden blade.

Rory’s jaw practically hit the floor. Guess Finnian’s description of me being "gentle" didn’t match reality.

I caught him staring. "You’re Finnian’s little wedding present? What brings you here this late?"

Wedding present? Rory stammered, "Mr. Foxglove told me to protect you."

"Not necessary," I said flatly.

I summoned my ship and took off immediately, leaving Rory in my dust.

He muttered something about me being gentle... mostly.

At Glimmeraven Port, Quentin had been waiting forever. My strawberries were flying off the shelves.

"Finally! I can’t keep up with demand. These are incredible. Can I bump up my order?" Quentin slid a new contract across the table, adding 500 credits per fruit to sweeten the deal.

"Deal," I agreed without hesitation.

With my own island now, my Cleanse ability could turn the entire Novareach Floating Island into a green paradise overnight. Strawberries were just the beginning.

Quick exchange—fruit for credits. But of course, I had to run into Helena.

Should’ve checked my horoscope today. Glimmeraven Port was cursed—every visit brought some annoying encounter.

"Elara! I knew it was you!" Helena’s whole attitude had shifted from before.

The second she spotted me, she rushed over eagerly. Her eyes locked onto the fruit she’d never been able to purchase, no matter her price. When she realized it came from me, her face twisted with regret.

"Sorry, but we’re not exactly close," I said, sipping the chocolate milk Quentin had set out with some pastries.

Giselle went white as a sheet, pointing at me lounging on the sofa. "Mom! That’s her! She’s the one who hurt me!"

I smirked, taking a bite of strawberry cream cake. Nailed that lazy, untouchable vibe perfectly. "Guilty as charged, dear sister. I did it. So what? You planning to do something about it?"

Helena’s frown deepened. She was used to everyone bowing down to her, probably figured I only had the balls to act cocky because of my beast husbands.

I hadn’t even bothered standing when she walked in—total disrespect. But strangely, she didn’t seem pissed.

Actually, she looked like she thought this was exactly how a Sterling family member should act.

She swallowed whatever "She’s still your sister" lecture she’d planned.

Instead, she said, "Impressive. You’ve got my old fire."

"Can you drop the act?" I looked up and cut her off cold, my eyes dripping sarcasm.

Helena’s rage exploded as she slammed her scepter into the floor.