Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Elara’s POV

"I’m going back in there."

Brenna was already turning on her heel. Fists clenched. Eyes blazing. I caught her arm and held on.

"Bren. No."

"Did you hear what she said?" Brenna’s voice cracked with fury. She jabbed a finger toward the silk shop behind us. "She called you a— a mortal slut. She called Lyra a dirty half-breed freak. I’m going to rip that girl apart—"

"And then what?" I pulled her further down the street. My voice was calm. Flat. The kind of calm that came from being too exhausted to feel anything properly. "You assault a shop clerk. The city guard gets called. They find out you were defending the Emperor’s companion, and suddenly it’s a scandal. Kaelen’s name dragged through the gossip sheets. The mortal consort who can’t even handle a rude shopgirl without causing a scene."

Brenna stopped pulling. Stared at me. "You can’t be serious."

"I’m completely serious." I shifted Lyra higher against my chest. She was still asleep. Oblivious. Perfect. "We leave. We forget it happened. That’s the end of it."

"That is not the end of it." Brenna’s jaw was tight. "That girl said your baby was destined for— for deformities, Ela. She said you were a pathetic pregnant mortal— she—"

"I know what she said."

I’d heard every word. Each one had landed exactly where it was meant to. Burrowed in deep. Settled alongside all the others I’d been collecting for months like stones in my pockets.

No scent. No aura. No power.

A desperate mortal who thinks sleeping with nobility makes her somebody.

Brittany wasn’t the first. She wouldn’t be the last.

"Please," I said quietly. "Let’s just go home."

Brenna opened her mouth. Closed it. Her eyes were glassy. Not with anger anymore. With something worse. Pity.

I looked away.

The carriage ride back to the palace was silent. Brenna sat across from me, arms folded, jaw working. She kept glancing at me like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

I stared out the window. The city streets blurred past. Wolfblood merchants hawking their wares. Noble women in fur-trimmed cloaks. Guards on patrol, their auras shimmering faintly in the afternoon light.

I couldn’t see auras anymore. Couldn’t smell the subtle markers that told wolfbloods who was Alpha and who was Omega. Couldn’t sense danger or lies or desire the way I used to. My world had gone flat. Muted. Like someone had draped a thick cloth over my senses and left me fumbling in the dark.

"Even Val can feel it," I said.

Brenna’s head turned sharply. "What?"

"The other day. He told me I smelled like nothing. Like regular people at the market." I kept my gaze fixed on the window. "He’s just a little boy, Bren. At his young age, he can already tell his mother is broken."

"You are not broken."

"I don’t have a wolf anymore. In a world built on wolves, what does that make me?"

Silence.

Brenna reached across the carriage and gripped my hand. Squeezed hard. "It makes you the bravest person I know. And it makes that shopgirl a worthless coward who picks on people she thinks can’t fight back."

I squeezed her hand in return. But I didn’t answer.

---

The palace doors opened before we reached them. Valerius came barreling out like a small, dark-haired cannonball.

"Mommy! Mommy, you’re back!"

He slammed into my legs with enough force to stagger me. I braced myself, one hand on Lyra’s carrier, the other catching his shoulder.

"Careful, sweetheart. Your sister—"

"I was careful! I slowed down at the end, did you see?" He grinned up at me. That bright, gap-toothed grin that could dissolve anything. "Daddy said I could stay up late if I finished my letters. I finished them ALL, Mommy. Even the hard ones."

"That’s wonderful, Val."

He tugged my hand, pulling me inside. The foyer was warm. Firelight from the sconces threw long, flickering shadows across the stone walls. Kaelen stood at the far end of the hall, arms folded, leaning against the doorframe of his study.

He wasn’t looking at Valerius.

He was looking at me.

Those dark gold eyes missed nothing. They tracked across my face, reading every subtle shift I thought I’d hidden. Then they shifted to Brenna. To the tightness in her posture. The redness around her eyes.

"What happened?" His voice was quiet. Controlled. The kind of quiet that preceded storms.

"Nothing," I said. "Long day. Shopping."

"Brenna."

It wasn’t a question. It was a command. Not the Alpha’s Command—he wouldn’t use that on a human—but the weight of it was unmistakable. Imperial authority woven into a single word.

Brenna glanced at me. I shook my head.

She ignored me.

"A shopgirl," Brenna said tightly. "At the silk shop. She called Ela a mortal slut. Said she was a pathetic, pregnant mortal who thought sleeping with nobility made her important. And she called Lyra a dirty little half-breed freak destined for deformities."

The temperature in the room dropped. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Not metaphorically. I felt the air change. Felt it press against my skin like ice water. Kaelen hadn’t moved. Hadn’t raised his voice. But something had shifted behind those gold eyes. Something predatory and ancient and utterly, terrifyingly still.

"Name," he said.

"Kaelen—"

"Name." He looked at Brenna. "And location."

"Brittany," Brenna said without hesitation. "The clerk at the silk shop. You can’t miss her."

"Bren!" I stepped forward. "Stop. Both of you, stop."

Kaelen’s gaze shifted to me. The lethal edge didn’t soften. "Someone insulted my mate and my daughter. You expect me to do nothing."

"I expect you to let it go. She’s just a shopgirl. A nobody. If the Emperor sends guards to discipline a mere clerk for being rude, what message does that send? That his mortal companion is so weak she needs the crown to fight her battles?"

The muscle in his jaw flexed. He stared at me for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"This isn’t over," he said.

"It is."

"Daddy?" Valerius tugged on Kaelen’s sleeve. His small face was pinched with concern. "Did someone hurt Mommy?"

Kaelen crouched down. Placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. "No one hurt Mommy. Everything’s fine."

"But Mommy looks sad. And Auntie Bren looks mad." Valerius straightened his shoulders. Drew himself up to his full, unimpressive height. "If someone was mean to Mommy, I’ll punch them. Like you do, Daddy. I’ll punch the bad guys right in the nose."

Something cracked in Kaelen’s expression. He pulled Valerius into a hug. "That’s my boy. But let’s save the punching for later, alright? Mommy needs a quiet evening."

Valerius nodded solemnly. "I’ll be extra quiet. I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m here."

"Thank you, sweetheart," I murmured.

---

Dinner was tense.

Kaelen barely spoke. He ate mechanically, his eyes distant, his thoughts clearly somewhere else—likely involving Brittany and consequences I didn’t want to imagine. Valerius kept glancing between us, chewing his food with exaggerated silence, clearly taking his promise very seriously. Lyra slept in her bassinet beside my chair.

I pushed food around my plate. Couldn’t taste it.

Pathetic mortal.

Dirty little half-breed freak.

The words kept circling. Sharks in dark water.

After dinner, Kaelen carried Valerius upstairs for his bedtime story. I stayed in the sitting room with Lyra, rocking her gently. The fire crackled. Shadows danced on the walls.

I pressed my forehead to Lyra’s. Breathed her in. She smelled like milk and lavender soap and something faintly sweet that I couldn’t name.

You’re not a freak. You’re not a mistake. You are perfect and wanted and loved.

Later that evening, the doorbell rang.

I glanced toward the hallway. The servants had retired. Kaelen was upstairs. Brenna had gone to her quarters.

It rang again. Insistent.

I stood. Settled Lyra against my hip. Walked to the front door and opened it.

A highly efficient, professional stranger stood on the threshold. She was tall and immaculate, with dark hair pulled into a severe, neat bun that didn’t allow a single strand to escape. She wore the formal charcoal uniform of a palace court official, pressed and starched to perfection, and carried a leather briefcase in one gloved hand. Her posture was rigid. Spine like an iron rod.

Her confident gaze swept over me, looking me up and down. Paused on Lyra. Then returned to my face.

A polite but false smile curved her lips, her condescending tone unmistakable.

"You must be His Majesty Emperor Kaelen’s... mortal nanny?" she asked, her voice crisp and clipped.