Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 60

Kaelen’s POV

The communication stone sat heavy in my coat pocket, silent as a grave.

I checked the communication stone every few minutes. Nothing. Checked it once more before I’d even made it down the corridor. My wolf, Alexius, paced beneath my skin—restless, agitated, his claws scraping at the edges of my composure like a caged thing testing bars.

She hasn’t sent word.

She’s fine.

Go to her.

The pull was physical. A hook behind my sternum, tugging south toward the city, toward the small apartment where Elara and Valerius were waiting. Or should have been waiting. The stone’s silence gnawed at me. She usually responded quickly. It had been much longer than that.

I was halfway across the great hall when the click of heels intercepted me.

"Your Imperial Majesty."

Seraphine materialized at my elbow like smoke. Her golden hair slipped over one shoulder, the candlelight catching the expensive manicure on her nails. She carried a leather folio pressed against her chest.

"The quarterly report for tomorrow’s council session." She fell into step beside me, attempting to delay me with her seductive whispers. "I’ve prepared a summary. If you’d care to review it tonight, I could walk you through the figures."

Her voice dropped, soft and intimate. Her fingers brushed my forearm in a light touch "accidentally" disguised by her movements.

I completely ignored her seductive whispers, her slipped hair, and her touch, fleeing the palace without a second glance.

The evening air hit my face as I crossed the palace courtyard. Cool. Damp. The sky above the capital was bruised purple, the last light bleeding out along the western horizon. I moved fast—faster than decorum demanded, faster than an emperor should move through his own grounds.

Alexius surged forward, flooding my senses. Every smell sharpened. Every sound crystallized. The crunch of gravel beneath my boots. The distant clang of the evening bell. The murmur of servants in the gatehouse.

Faster.

I didn’t argue with him.

The streets blurred. I took the back routes—narrow lanes between stone buildings, shortcuts through market squares already shuttered for the night. My coat snapped behind me. My pulse hammered a rhythm that had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the growing ache below my ribs.

I needed to see her. Needed to confirm she was safe, that she was real, that the bond humming between us wasn’t just some phantom I’d conjured from wanting her too much.

The apartment building rose ahead of me. Modest. Clean. A building of pale stone with iron balconies and window boxes that Elara had planted with winter herbs. I took the stairs two at a time.

At the landing, I paused.

Her familiar scent reached me first. Winter roses and old parchment—that particular combination that existed nowhere else in the world except on her skin. My chest expanded. Alexius settled slightly, the frantic pacing easing into something warm and liquid.

But then the second scent hit.

Male. Unfamiliar.

Alexius went on high alert, rigid against this stranger’s scent.

Every hair on my body stood on end. The warmth in my chest curdled into something hot and corrosive. My hand found the door handle. Unlocked.

I pushed it open.

Warm light spilled from the kitchen at the end of the corridor. I moved through the hall in silence and stopped in the doorway.

The cozy domestic scene hit me like a heavy physical blow.

Elara stood at the stove, her long hair left loose around her shoulders, stirring pasta sauce in a pot. Steam curled around her face. She looked relaxed. Comfortable. The tension that usually lived between her shoulder blades was absent.

Beside her—close beside her—stood a man.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sandy golden-brown hair that caught the lamplight. He was smiling. An easy, comfortable smile. The smile of a man who felt at home.

My vision narrowed.

My Alpha dominance uncoiled from the base of my spine and flooded the room, releasing a heavy, oppressive monarch’s aura. The lamp flame guttered. The steam above the pot seemed to flinch.

The man set down the knife he was holding. Slowly. His smile faded, replaced by a confident expression. He didn’t step back. Didn’t drop his gaze.

That made it worse.

The man confidently introduced himself, stepping forward and extending his hand. "I’m Finnian Morrison. I’m an old friend of Ela’s from the north, and we traveled south together."

Ela.

He called her Ela.

I completely ignored his handshake. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. My voice was filled with hostility as I interrogated their relationship. "What is your relationship with her?"

"His family took me in," Elara defended Finnian, her voice firm, but I caught the warning underneath it. "When I had nowhere else to go. His family provided a safe place for me. I owe them everything."

"Everything," I repeated. The word tasted like ash.

Finnian shifted his weight. Squared his shoulders. He was tall—nearly as tall as me—and carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to hard work and harder decisions. He took a measured step closer to Elara, an unmistakable protective and possessive undertone in his stance.

Alexius snarled in a roar of fury inside my skull.

"Kaelen!" Valerius chirped happily from his stool, his dark gold eyes shining, completely oblivious to the tension. "Finnian is Mommy’s friend, and he knows about ancient weapons! He told me about the gladius and the bearded axe and—"

I forced my voice into something softer for my son to soothe him. "That’s great, buddy." But my eyes never left Finnian.

The tension reached its peak. Elara’s hand landed on my arm, her eyes flashing as she sternly reprimanded me. "Kaelen, stop it. You are being incredibly rude to my guest."

Seeing Valerius’s confusion, I exhaled through my nose. I glanced at my son—his dark curls, his gold eyes wide with confusion, his small hands clutching the edge of the counter.

"Everything’s fine, buddy," I said gently to him.

Then I turned back to Finnian.

Finnian cautiously stepped forward, squaring his shoulders. "What I’d like to know is who you are. Because you just walked into her home without knocking and you’re acting like a hostile intruder."

The air between us became solid. I stepped forward, closing the distance to form a chest-to-chest confrontation. My heavy monarch’s aura permeated the room.

I let the cold ice settle into my voice, announcing my claim.

"I am Valerius’s father."