Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Kaelen’s POV

The wind screamed past my ears as the griffin banked hard over the capital’s rooftops. Below, the city was a blur of stone and smoke and meaningless movement. I didn’t see any of it.

Alex paced beneath my skin. Not restless. Not irritable. Frantic. Like a wolf locked in a cage while fire ate the walls.

She’s not answering.

I pressed my thumb into the communication stone so hard the edges bit into flesh. It pulsed. Once. Twice. Three times.

Dead silence.

Again.

Dead silence.

Again.

Nothing. Just... absence. A void where my wife’s voice should have been.

Six times. I’d tried six times since leaving the palace, and every single attempt dissolved into the same hollow quiet. The magical connection wasn’t just weak. It was severed. Deliberately, completely severed.

Elara never severed the connection of her stone.

Alex snarled inside my skull, a sound like grinding metal. My grip on the griffin’s harness tightened until the leather groaned.

Think. Think clearly.

She said she loved me. She made me promise to come home. She told me Valerius would be waiting.

Valerius.

The griffin’s wings snapped as I yanked the reins eastward, adjusting course toward the academy instead of the residence. I needed to confirm—

A pulse hit my palm. Incoming transmission. I nearly crushed the stone answering it.

"Your Majesty Nightfire." Not Elara. A woman’s voice—measured, professional, with the careful cadence of someone used to speaking to difficult parents. Valerius’s tutor. "I apologize for the intrusion, but it’s getting late in the afternoon, and Valerius is still here waiting. Lady Nightfire informed the academy this morning that you would be handling pickup today. We weren’t notified of any schedule change through the usual channels, so I wanted to confirm—"

My blood turned to ice.

"She told you I was picking him up."

"Yes, Your Majesty. She sent word first thing this morning. Valerius has been quite excited about it—he’s been telling the other children all day that his father is coming." A careful pause. "Was there... a miscommunication?"

Elara had never once changed the pickup arrangement without telling me first. She was meticulous about these things. Every schedule, every transition, every handoff was coordinated with military precision because that was who she was—a woman who left nothing to chance.

Unless she was making sure she wouldn’t be the one at home when I arrived.

"I’ll be there in a few moments," I said.

"Of course, Your Majesty. He’s perfectly safe. We’re in the east garden."

I banked the griffin so sharply it shrieked in protest.

The academy’s spires rose through the treeline within moments. I brought the griffin down hard on the visitors’ platform, already swinging off before the beast had fully settled. My boots hit stone and I was moving, cutting through the manicured corridors, past startled attendants who pressed themselves against walls as I passed.

The east garden was sun-drenched and peaceful. Flower beds in neat rows. A fountain murmuring at the center. And there, sitting cross-legged on a stone bench with a picture book open across his knees, was my son.

Dark gold eyes lifted to mine. His whole face split open with joy.

"Daddy!"

He scrambled off the bench and launched himself at me. I caught him—scooped him up, one arm under his legs, the other around his back—and held him tight. His small arms locked around my neck. He smelled like chalk dust and grass and the faintly sweet soap Elara used on his hair every morning.

"Hey, buddy." My voice came out steadier than I felt. Barely. "Sorry I’m late."

"That’s okay." He pulled back just enough to look at me, those golden eyes—my eyes—bright with trust. "Mommy said you were coming today. She told me this morning before she dropped me off. She said it was a special surprise."

A special surprise.

My stomach dropped.

"Did Mommy say anything else?"

Valerius scrunched his nose, thinking hard. "She hugged me really, really long. Longer than normal. And she said..." He trailed off, brow furrowing. "She said to be a good boy for Daddy. And that she loves me more than all the stars."

Alex went deathly still inside me.

"Can we go home now?" Valerius asked. "I want to show Lyra the picture I drew."

"Yeah, buddy." I hoisted him higher on my hip. "We’re going home right now."

The flight back was the longest stretch of my life. Valerius sat in front of me on the griffin, chattering about his drawing—a wolf with silver fur and a tiny wolf beside it—while I kept one arm locked around his waist and the other on the reins. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it.

She hugged him longer than normal. She told him to be good for Daddy.

Who says that to their child on a regular morning?

Someone who doesn’t think there will be another one.

The residence materialized below. I brought the griffin down fast, handed the reins to the stablehand without a word, and carried Valerius through the front entrance.

"Ela?"

My voice echoed through the foyer. Off the marble floors, up the staircase, into nothing.

"Baby?"

Silence. The kind that has weight. The kind that fills a space like water, pressing against the walls, swallowing sound.

The nanny appeared from the side corridor, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was calm. Untroubled. Completely oblivious.

"Your Majesty! You’re home early. And you’ve got the little prince—oh, Lady Nightfire mentioned you’d be picking him up today."

"Where is she?"

"She went out earlier this afternoon, Your Majesty. Said she had some errands to attend to. She spent the whole morning with Lyra—feeding her, singing to her, just the sweetest thing. They had the loveliest time together." The nanny smiled fondly. "She seemed in wonderful spirits."

Wonderful spirits.

The woman who kissed me this morning like it was the last time. The woman whose laugh rang hollow as a cracked bell. The woman who told her son to be good for Daddy like she was handing him off permanently.

Wonderful spirits.

"Did she say when she’d be back?"

The nanny’s smile faltered. "No, Your Majesty. I assumed... I assumed it wouldn’t be long."

I didn’t wait to hear another word. I set Valerius down on his feet and bolted for the stairs, taking them three at a time. I could hear Valerius’s small footsteps rushing up the marble steps right behind me, trying to keep pace.

The hallway stretched before me, torchlight flickering against familiar walls. Our bedroom door was closed. I shoved it open.

Everything looked normal.

The bed was made. The curtains were drawn back. Her robe hung on its usual hook. Her slippers sat by the wardrobe. Everything was exactly in its place, completely normal.

A sound came from the adjoining room—the nursery. Soft, rhythmic breathing. I moved toward it on legs that didn’t feel entirely mine.

Lyra lay in her crib, sleeping peacefully. One tiny fist was curled near her cheek. Her silver hair—Elara’s hair—caught the late afternoon light from the window like spun moonlight. She was warm. Content. Safe.

But tucked beside her, carefully placed against the folded blanket where Lyra’s small body wouldn’t crush it, was a piece of folded parchment.

My name was written across the front in Elara’s precise, elegant hand.

Kaelen.

I reached into the crib, my fingers closing around the parchment. As I held the letter that felt impossibly heavy in my grasp, my hands trembled violently.