Ela Voss finally stopped laughing—wiping tears from the corners of her amethyst eyes with the back of her hand. She turned to Liana, who was still sprawled dramatically across the bench beside her, hair a glorious mess from Ethan’s noogie punishment.

“If you’re both siblings,” Ela asked, voice soft but genuinely curious, “how come you have different surnames?”

Liana froze mid-stretch—arms still raised above her head—then dropped them with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah…” Valeforia looked over her shoulder, eyes glinting. “I’m curious too.”

“Same here…” Venya mused, crimson wings rustling as she propped her chin on her fist.

Everyone’s attention shifted to Liana—even Aiden glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

Liana exhaled through her nose—smile turning a little nervous, a little wistful.

“It’s simple really.” She shrugged one shoulder. “After our parents divorced, we took their surnames. I went with our father’s—Starweaver. My brother took our mother’s—Leilive.”

A soft ripple of understanding passed through the wives.

Lysandra’s golden eyes softened immediately. “Sorry…”

“Ohh… don’t worry.” Liana waved it off—smile turning a little nervous, a little wistful. “It’s been a really long time. And it never really stopped me from being with him. Our parents never stopped us from meeting. I used to cuddle with him while sleeping when we were kids… and I still do whenever I get the chance.”

She looked down toward the central stage—where Ethan stood waiting, arms crossed, posture relaxed but alert—her gaze turning openly loving.

“He’s always been my safe place,” she added quietly. “Still is.”

Then she brightened—grinning again.

“And for some reason, our parents never married again. That’s one of the reasons I got Ava. Our dad couldn’t take care of me full-time because of work, so one day he brought Ava home. Said she’d take care of my needs.” Liana wiggled her eyebrows theatrically. “Best decision he ever made.”

She leaned back—hands behind her head—staring fondly at Ethan again.

“Isn’t my brother handsome and kind at the same time?”

“You remind me of someone…” Ela and Nyxion said in perfect unison.

Though both clearly meant two different people.

Venya snorted—wings rustling. “Yeah… Serica, right?”

Nayla licked her lower lip slowly—voice dropping into sultry territory. “Mmm. She’s a general in the royal army. Prideful, sharp, beautiful, confident… but the second our husband is around, she turns into this flustered schoolgirl.”

“Really?” Liana giggled—then looked toward Ela. “And what did you mean?”

Ela didn’t answer immediately.

She lifted one delicate hand—pointing toward the noble section of the gallery.

Elarion and Elara Voss sat close together—hands intertwined, Elara’s head resting comfortably on her brother’s broad shoulder.

“My older siblings,” Ela said softly. “They’re close like you two. More than that, actually.”

“Ohh…” Liana nodded—understanding dawning. “Got it.”

“Yeah…” Luna mumbled from Aiden’s lap—finally regaining some strength after the earlier training session. Her wolf ears twitched. “Because of our entrance… dirt went inside her eyes and he made a huge deal about it.”

Aiden chuckled—low and fond—then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Luna’s forehead. “Rise and shine, dear.”

Luna beamed up at him—eyes sparkling—then hugged him tightly. “I love you, Master.”

Selvara—still half-dozing against Aiden’s other shoulder—murmured something incoherent and nuzzled closer in her sleep.

Suddenly the noble section erupted in shouts.

She moved like liquid sin—long, powerful strides that made her wide hips roll hypnotically, the short pleated skirt of her academy uniform riding dangerously high on thick, toned thighs. The crimson blazer was tailored to sin: buttons straining over an obscene pair of breasts so massive they threatened to burst free with every breath, a dramatically narrow waist, wide hips, and thick, plush thighs.

Her dark skin accentuates her sexy body.

Her long, vibrant pink hair cascades in soft waves down her back and shoulders, framing a playfully seductive face with bright pink eyes, white eye lashes and a mischievous smile.

Perched atop her vibrant pink hair like natural crown accessories are two symmetrical, plant-like horns that resemble lush, coiled green vines or young tendrils. Each horn curves gracefully outward and upward in a gentle spiral, thick at the base where they emerge from her scalp and tapering to elegant pointed tips adorned with small clusters of delicate rosebuds and tiny green leaves.

Intricate rose-vine tattoos on her throat climbed toward her cheeks. Also wrap around her thick thighs like living vines, featuring blooming red roses with velvety petals in deep crimson hues.

“Flora Dawnveil…” Elowen announced—voice carrying magically across the colosseum. “Daughter of General Fiora Dawnveil of the Royal Army.”

Flora stopped at the center—lifting her chin proudly—then locked eyes with Ethan across the arena.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.

Commoners shifted nervously.

Nobles leaned forward—smirking.

Flora stopped across from him—planting her feet wide, hands on hips. She looked across at Ethan—smile slow, cruel.

Flora lifted her chin—locked eyes with Ethan across the arena—and dragged her tongue slowly across her lower lip.

“Ohhhh… you’re even cuter up close,” she purred—voice magically amplified, dripping honey and venom. “Look at you… all lean and brooding. Those arms. That jawline. Mmm… I could just eat you up.”

She took one slow, deliberate step forward—hips swaying, skirt riding higher, revealing more of the rose-vine tattoos curling around her inner thighs.

“Tell me, handsome…” Her voice dropped lower—intimate, filthy. “Are you single? Because I’d love to wrap my whip around that pretty throat and make you kneel for me. I bet you’d look divine on your knees…”

Ethan smirked—crossing his arms, stance loose but ready.

“Sorry,” he called back—voice calm, carrying easily. “I just happen to be the boyfriend of this beautiful goddess.”

From the highest gallery, Liana hissed under her breath—low enough that only Aiden’s group heard.

“That bitch… stop flirting with my brother.”

Her fingers dug into the bench edge—knuckles white.

Ethan felt the sudden shift in aura behind him: a dark, jealous heat rolling off Liana like smoke. He glanced back—saw her glaring daggers at Flora—and smiled nervously.

The wives exchanged looks—Nyxion’s tail twitching, Selvara’s wings rustling, Luna’s ears flattening.

—

In in the infirmary—

Nurse Sera Veyne glanced sideways at the holographic feed—lips curving.

“You heard that?” she asked teasingly.

Mee—half-hidden behind Kee’s draped blazer, cheeks flaming—nodded shyly.

Sera chuckled—low, throaty. “Aren’t you lucky. He thinks you’re a beautiful goddess.”

Mee’s blush deepened—but a soft, secret smile crept across her lips. She pulled the blazer tighter around herself and whispered, “Yeah… I am.”

—

Back on the arena floor—

Flora pressed her hand over her heart—dramatic, mocking.

“How sad…” she sighed—voice dripping false sorrow. “You just broke my poor little heart.”

Then her smile turned razor-sharp.

A thron wrapp whip materialized in her hand. She stretched the thorn-wrapped whip between both hands—green vines creaking.

“I suppose I’ll just have to make you regret that decision,” she purred—stepping closer, hips swaying, breasts bouncing with every movement. “I’ll tie you up with my vines… wrap them around that cock of yours… make you throb and beg while I ride you until you forget her name.”

She licked her lips again—slow, deliberate.

“Then I’ll brand you with my roses… right here—” she dragged one finger down the center of her own cleavage “—and here—” she slapped her own thick ass cheek, making it jiggle “—so everyone knows you belong to Flora Dawnveil.”

Ethan rolled his eyes—smirking.

“In your dreams.”

Flora laughed—rich, throaty.

“Oh, darling… my dreams are filthy. And you’re the star.”

From the gallery, Liana hissed again—louder this time.

“That slut… I’ll whip her myself if she keeps talking to him like that.”

Nyxion’s tail lashed. “Want me to scratch her eyes out?”

Aiden watched Flora’s swaying hips and the way her crimson blazer strained over her absurdly massive chest—each step making her breasts bounce heavily, rose tattoos curling provocatively along her deep cleavage.

He leaned back slightly, arms still draped around Nyxion and Selvara, and muttered low enough for only his wives to hear:

“Hmm… she does make me remember Fiora. Especially that whip and those rose tattoos crawling all over her. And fuck—she’s packing unlike her mother.”

His eyes deliberately dropped to Flora’s overflowing bust—then flicked back up with a lazy, knowing smirk.

Every single one of his wives instantly understood exactly what he meant by packing.

From his shoulder—still half-asleep, cheek smushed against his neck—Selvara grumbled in a thick, drowsy voice:

“…Pervert…”

The word came out muffled, slurred with sleep, but perfectly timed.

Aiden’s grin widened—sharp and unrepentant.

He tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Selvara’s white hair.

“Love you too, babe.”

Selvara huffed—barely audible—and nuzzled closer in her sleep, wings giving a tiny, contented flutter.

Mira’s voice cut through—calm, professional.

“Start!”

The colosseum air crackled with tension the moment Mira’s voice rang out—”Start!”

Flora’s red lips curled into a cruel, delighted smile. She snapped her wrist once—sharp, elegant—and the thorn-wrapped green whip in her hand hissed like a living serpent.

The weapon extended in a blur, vines lengthening impossibly fast, razor-sharp thorns glinting under the sun as it lashed toward Ethan’s chest like a striking cobra.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

He didn’t block.

He didn’t dodge sideways.

He simply leaned back—spine bending in a perfect, almost lazy arc—and the whip sliced through the air where his torso had been a heartbeat earlier. The thorns whistled past his face close enough to cut a few stray hairs from his fringe.

The crowd gasped.

Flora’s smile widened—predatory. “Fast~”

Ethan’s lips twitched.

He exploded forward.

No wind-up. No telegraph. One moment he was standing still—the next he was a blur of motion, boots kicking up dust as he closed the fifteen-meter gap in three explosive strides. His right fist chambered at his hip—muscles coiling like steel springs—then detonated straight toward Flora’s solar plexus.

Flora giggled—high and delighted.

—

END OF CHAPTER : 281 : FAMILY HISTORY!

—

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep