Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 37

Elara’s POV

“You’re wrong.”

Kaelen’s voice cut through the dim room like a blade. Low. Certain. Almost angry.

I kept my eyes on the wall. The cracks in the plaster ran in jagged lines, like veins beneath pale skin. Easier to study those than to look at him.

“Seraphine de Valcourt holds a badge,” I said. “Your badge. The one you gave to your destined mate. She’s been waiting for you, and now she’s found you. So go to her.”

“Look at me.”

I didn’t.

“Elara.”

The way he said my name—not a command, not a request, but something raw and unfinished—made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with my battered body.

I forced my voice steady. “You spent years searching for the woman who carried that badge. She’s here now. Standing right in your palace, holding your crest. What more do you need?”

The bed shifted. He’d stood up. I heard his boots on the floorboards—two steps, three—and then silence. He was pacing. In a room barely large enough for the bed and a nightstand, Kaelen Nightfire was pacing like a caged wolf.

“She holds a piece of gold,” he said. His voice had dropped into something rough. Stripped down. “That’s all it is. A piece of metal I left behind on a night I barely remember, because I was too busy searching for a ghost.”

I turned my head. Slowly. The bruise on my cheek throbbed with the motion.

He stood by the window. Moonlight cut across his jaw, catching the sharp angle of his cheekbone, the tension in his clenched fists. His dark gold eyes burned in the half-light—not with command, but with something desperate.

“Five years,” he said. “I spent five years chasing that badge. Sending men to every province, every trade route, every port city. Looking for the woman who disappeared from the masquerade ball.” He turned to face me. “Do you know when I stopped caring about the badge?”

I said nothing.

“The moment I scented you in the archive hall.” He took a step closer. “The moment you looked at me with those ice-blue eyes and told me to get out of your way because I was blocking the bookshelf.”

Despite everything—the pain, the exhaustion, the ruins of my dignity—something warm flickered beneath my ribs. I crushed it immediately.

“That doesn’t change what she has.”

“It changes everything.” Another step. He was close now. Close enough that I could smell the sandalwood on his skin, warm and dark and achingly familiar. “Seraphine de Valcourt can wave that badge in front of every noble house in the empire. She can present it at court. She can engrave it on her tombstone for all I care.”

His voice dropped.

“She is not the woman I want.”

The words hung between us. Heavy. Unavoidable.

I swallowed. My throat felt like sand. “You promised the badge holder compensation. Status. Security. You can’t just—”

“I promised those things to a memory.” He crouched beside the bed. Slowly, the way he’d approached me earlier—like I might bolt. His face was level with mine now, those dark gold eyes searching. “I’ll honor the financial terms. She’ll receive every coin, every title I pledged. But I will not pretend she’s my mate when my mate is lying right here, beaten and bruised and still trying to push me away.”

My breath caught.

He didn’t touch me. His hands stayed at his sides, fists clenched against his own restraint. But the air between us was electric—charged with something that made my skin prickle and my pulse stutter.

“You wasted five years,” I whispered. I didn’t know if I meant it as an accusation or something softer.

“Yes.” No hesitation. No defense. “Five years chasing a phantom when you were right here. Raising your son alone. Working yourself half to death. Getting sold like livestock by people who should have protected you.” His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped beneath his skin. “I should have found you sooner.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known.”

Silence. The lamp flickered. Shadows danced across his face, catching the hard line of his brow, the curve of his mouth.

He was so close. Close enough that I could see the individual threads of gold in his dark irises. Close enough that if I leaned forward—just slightly—

“Elara.” His voice was barely above a breath. “Tell me to leave, and I’ll leave. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll walk out that door and never speak of it again.”

I should have said it. Every rational part of my brain screamed at me to say it. He was the Emperor. I was a battered commoner with a secret that could destroy us both. This could only end in ruin.

But my mouth wouldn’t form the words.

Because he was looking at me the way no one had ever looked at me. Not with pity. Not with ownership. But with a hunger so tightly leashed it trembled at the edges—and beneath it, something terrifyingly tender.

“I don’t want you to leave,” I said.

Something shifted in his expression. Relief. Fierce, staggering relief that cracked through his composure like lightning through stone.

He leaned closer. His breath ghosted across my lips. Warm. Unsteady. The sandalwood scent wrapped around me, and the mate bond surged—a tide of heat and need that pooled low in my belly and made my fingers itch to touch him.

His nose brushed mine. The lightest contact. My eyes fluttered shut.

His lips were barely inches away. I could feel the warmth radiating from them, the undeniable pull between us—

“Mommy?”

The small, quavering voice called out from the living room, shattering the spell between us like fragile glass.

Kaelen pulled back. Not fast—controlled. Deliberate. He looked down at me, a warm, lingering smile touching his lips.

“My ice-blue eyes,” he murmured softly.

Then, he turned and stepped out to tend to the boy.

“Hey, little man,” I heard Kaelen say from the other room. “Can’t sleep?”

A moment later, Valerius appeared in the doorway, clutching his woven wool blanket to his chest. His dark curls were mussed. His golden eyes were too wide, pupils blown with the remnants of fear.

“I had a bad dream,” he whispered. “About the forest. The dark parts.”

My heart clenched. I held out my arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He padded across the room and climbed up onto the bed with the clumsy urgency of a child seeking shelter. I pulled him against me, ignoring the sharp protest from my aching ribs, and tucked his head beneath my chin. He smelled like warm milk, soap, and little-boy sweat.

“The trees were chasing me,” he mumbled into my collarbone. “And there were eyes. Yellow eyes in the dark.”

“They can’t reach you here.” I pressed my lips to his curls. “You’re safe. Mommy’s got you.”

Kaelen had moved to the foot of the bed. Quiet. Watchful. Giving us space without leaving. Valerius peeked out from beneath my chin and found him there.

“Lord Kaelen?”

“Yes?”

“You saved me from the forest.”

“I did.”

“You carried me when my legs were too tired.”

“That’s right.”

Valerius pulled back from my arms just enough to sit up against the pillows. His small face was serious—the exaggerated gravity that only children can manage.

“You’re really strong,” he said. “Stronger than anyone. And you’re brave. You weren’t scared of the dark forest at all.”

“Everyone gets scared sometimes,” Kaelen said quietly.

“Not you.” Valerius shook his head with absolute conviction. “You’re like—you’re like a real knight. Like in the stories Mommy reads me.” He paused. His small fingers twisted the edge of his woven blanket. “You’re exactly like what a daddy is supposed to be.”

The air left my lungs.

Kaelen went very still. Something flickered across his face—fast, unguarded—before he masked it.

Valerius looked up at me. Those golden eyes, so bright. So hopeful. So heartbreakingly innocent.

“Can he be my daddy?” Valerius interrupted, his voice filled with hope and innocence, making my heart wrench painfully. “Please? I promise I’ll be really, really good.”