Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 46

Elara’s POV

Silver grass swayed beneath a sky that held no sun.

I stood in the center of an endless meadow, barefoot, the blades cool and luminous against my skin. They shimmered with a pale, internal light, as though each strand had been spun from molten starlight and planted in dark soil.

Ahead, a river wound through the landscape. Not water. Crystal. Liquid crystal that moved and rippled like a living thing, its surface reflecting constellations I didn’t recognize.

I turned in a slow circle. No walls. No ceiling. No horizon line. Just the meadow, the river, and the impossible sky above—a bruised twilight swirl of violet and deep indigo, scattered with stars so close I could almost reach up and touch them.

This is a dream.

It had to be. The last thing I remembered was the medical wing. The light leaving my hands. Kaelen’s arms around me as the darkness swallowed everything.

I was still unconscious. Still lying in some cot in the medical wing while my body tried to recover from whatever I’d done to it.

Stress dream, I told myself. Your mind is processing. That’s all.

But the grass was too real beneath my feet. The air tasted too clean—like snow and cedar and something ancient that had no name.

“You are not dreaming, child.”

The voice came from everywhere. Soft. Musical. It resonated in my chest the way a temple bell resonates long after it’s been struck.

I spun toward the river.

A woman stood at its edge.

She was tall. Impossibly tall. Her robes were woven from moonlight itself—pale, shifting fabric that moved like liquid silver around her form. Her hair fell to the ground in a cascade of white so bright it hurt to look at directly. And her eyes—

Her eyes were galaxies. Swirling nebulae of silver and violet, ancient beyond measure, kind beyond comprehension.

I knew her.

Not because I’d seen her face before. I hadn’t. But something inside me—something older than memory, older than thought—recognized her the way a river recognizes the sea.

My knees buckled.

I dropped to the silver grass. Head bowed. Hands flat against the earth.

“Moon Goddess.”

“Rise, child.” Her voice was gentle. Warm. “You do not kneel to me. Not here.”

I lifted my head slowly. She hadn’t moved, but she seemed closer now, as though the space between us had simply folded itself smaller.

“Where is ‘here’?” My voice sounded thin. Small.

“A place between waking and sleep. Between the mortal world and mine.” She tilted her head. The stars in her eyes shifted. “I brought you here because you have questions. And because it is time you received answers.”

Questions. I nearly laughed.

“I have more than questions,” I said. “I have—” I stopped. Swallowed. “Just a week ago, I was just a commoner. A single mother. I cleaned shelves and sorted scrolls and tried to keep my son fed. And now I’m healing people with light that comes from my hands, and I don’t—I don’t understand any of it.”

“I know.” She extended one hand toward the crystal river. “Come. Walk with me.”

I rose on unsteady legs and followed her along the bank. The river moved beside us, its surface shifting and swirling with colors that shouldn’t exist.

“The power you used,” she said, “is not new. It has always lived within you. Sleeping. Waiting for the moment your heart broke open wide enough to let it through.”

“But why me? I’m nobody. I’m—”

“You are not nobody.” Her voice sharpened. Just slightly. Just enough to stop the words in my throat. “You have never been nobody, Elara.”

She stopped walking. Turned to face me fully. The moonlight robes swirled around her ankles.

“Look into the river.”

I looked.

The crystal surface rippled, then cleared. An image formed—vivid, sharp, more real than any painting or tapestry.

Mountains. Vast, snow-capped mountains rising against a winter sky. Below them, a fortress of dark stone and pale timber, banners snapping in the wind. The banners bore a sigil I’d never seen—a silver wolf howling beneath a crescent moon.

“The Northern Frostfang Duchy,” the Moon Goddess said.

The image shifted. Inside the fortress now. A great hall lit by roaring fires. A man stood at the center—tall, broad-shouldered, with silver-white hair that fell past his jaw. His eyes were ice blue.

My eyes.

Beside him stood a woman. Dark-haired, fierce-featured, beautiful in the way a blade is beautiful. She wore armor like a second skin. One hand rested on the hilt of a sword. The other rested on her belly—round, full.

Pregnant.

“Your father,” the Moon Goddess said softly. “Duke of the Northern Frostfang. And your mother. Both of them—Alpha bloodlines. Pure. Ancient. Among the most powerful lines this world has ever known.”

My throat closed.

“That’s not—” I shook my head. “That can’t be right. I was raised by the Valois. The Baron told me I was an orphan of no consequence. A charity case.”

“The Baron told you what suited him.” Her voice held no anger. Only truth. “Watch.”

The river shifted again.

Night now. The fortress engulfed in fire. I watched shadows pour over the walls—not an army. A horde. Rogues. Hundreds of them, savage and coordinated in a way rogues shouldn’t be. They moved with purpose. With direction.

Someone had told them exactly where to strike.

My father fought. My mother fought beside him, her sword carving arcs of silver through the dark. They were magnificent. They were outnumbered.

I saw the moment a blade found my father’s back. Saw him stumble. Saw my mother scream his name and throw herself between him and the next strike. Saw them fall together, their hands reaching for each other even as the blood spread beneath them.

“No.” The word tore from me. “No—”

“They died protecting their people,” the Goddess said. “And protecting you.”

The image changed one final time.

A woman—older, gray-haired, her face streaked with tears and soot—running through a burning corridor. She clutched a bundle to her chest. A baby. Silver-haired. Screaming.

Me.

“Grandmother Elena,” the Goddess said. “Your mother’s personal handmaiden. The most loyal soul I have ever watched over.”

I watched Elena run. Through corridors. Through fire. Out a servant’s passage and into the frozen night. She ran and ran, stumbling through snow, clutching me against her chest with arms that trembled from exhaustion and blood loss.

She had been wounded. A deep gash across her ribs that she’d bound with torn fabric. It wasn’t enough. With every step she took, the binding darkened.

But she didn’t stop.

She ran for hundreds of miles. Through forests. Across frozen rivers. Past villages she didn’t dare enter. She ran until the Frostfang mountains were a distant memory behind her, and the temperate lowlands of the Valois barony spread before her.

She collapsed at the boundary marker of the Baron’s territory. Her legs simply gave out. She knelt in the mud, cradling me against her chest, her breath coming in shallow, rattling gasps.

A farmer found her eventually. By then, Elena could no longer speak. She managed one thing—pressing me into the farmer’s arms with failing hands and a look so fierce that he understood without words.

Take her. Keep her safe.

She died soon after.

The river went still. The images faded.

I was on my knees again. I didn’t remember falling. Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless, dropping onto the silver grass where they shimmered briefly before sinking into the earth.

“She gave everything,” I whispered.

“Yes.” The Goddess knelt before me. Her hand—warm, impossibly warm—cupped my cheek. “She gave everything so that you could live. So that the Frostfang line would endure.”

“But I didn’t know.” My voice broke. “I didn’t know any of this. I grew up thinking I was nothing. That I belonged to no one.”

“You belong to a legacy of warriors and healers, child. Your power—the light in your hands—is the birthright of the Frostfang Alpha bloodline. It is called Moon Blessed. And it has been sleeping inside you since the day you were born, waiting for the moment you would need it most.”

I wiped my face with shaking hands. Drew a breath. Then another.

“I can’t control it,” I said. “When I healed those men—I nearly killed myself. I don’t know how to use it. I don’t know its limits. And if something happens to me, Valerius—”

“Your son is safe.” Her voice was firm. Certain. “And you will learn. The control will come.”

“How?”

She smiled. It was the saddest, most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

“Trust your instincts. They are sharper than you know.” She rose, and I rose with her. “Trust your mate. He carries burdens you have not yet seen. And trust your love, Elara. It is the most powerful force you possess.”

The meadow was brightening. The twilight sky bleeding into white. The Goddess was fading, her edges dissolving into light.

“Wait,” I said. “The ones who betrayed my parents—who were they? Who sent the rogues?”

She looked at me with those galaxy eyes. Patient. Knowing.

“Seek justice, child. Not vengeance. There is a difference, and it matters.”

“But who—”

The light swallowed her form. Her voice remained, echoing from everywhere and nowhere, warm and final.

“Go and discover for yourself, my blessed daughter...”