Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 281

Elara’s POV

I pressed my back against the wall just beyond the doorframe, both hands clamped over my mouth.

His roar shook the paintings.

Not the Alpha’s Command. Not the battlefield voice that had brought entire armies to their knees. This was something else entirely—raw, unfiltered, cracked wide open like a dam breaking under too much pressure.

"ELARA!"

I bit down on my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. My shoulders shook with silent laughter. Through our bond, his emotions crashed into me like a tidal wave—shock, disbelief, a wild desperate hope so bright it nearly blinded my inner wolf.

Moonlight—my wolf—was already singing. A high, clear note of pure satisfaction that resonated in every fiber of my body.

I heard his boots hit the floor. A few heavy steps. Pacing. Then stopping. Then pacing again. I could picture him perfectly without looking—the most powerful Alpha in the empire, standing in the middle of our bedchamber, holding a tiny glass stick like it was a live explosive.

"Elara, where—I swear on the Moon Goddess, if you don’t—"

I slipped around the doorframe.

He had his back to me. Broad shoulders rigid. I had watched his face when he first opened the little white box. In the span of three seconds, seventeen different emotions had crossed his features before he let out that deafening roar. Now, his head was bowed over the pregnancy test like he was trying to read it again, or memorize it, or will the two blue lines to stay exactly where they were.

I crossed the room on silent feet and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. Pressed my cheek between his shoulder blades.

He went completely still.

"Surprise," I whispered.

The sound he made wasn’t quite human. A breath, a groan, something fractured and beautiful all at once. His hands closed over mine where they rested against his stomach. His fingers were trembling. The Alpha Emperor—the man who had faced down Rogues without flinching, who had stared down death itself—was trembling.

He turned.

And then I was off the ground.

His arms locked around me, lifting me clean off the floor. My legs dangled uselessly. He buried his face in my neck, in the exact spot where his mark sat silver against my skin, and inhaled like a drowning man breaking the surface.

"Say it." His voice was muffled. Wrecked. "Tell me. I need to hear you say it."

I cradled the back of his head with both hands. Ran my fingers through the dark hair at his nape.

"I’m pregnant, Kaelen."

His arms tightened until my ribs protested. A shudder ran through his entire body—a single, violent tremor that I felt everywhere our skin touched.

Then wetness. Hot and slow, seeping into the curve of my shoulder.

The Emperor of the Nightfire Empire was crying.

Not the restrained, jaw-clenched kind. Not the stoic single tear of a man too proud to break. These were real tears. Messy and uncontrolled and absolutely, devastatingly honest.

"Kaelen." I tried to pull back enough to see his face. He wouldn’t let me. "Kaelen, look at me."

"Give me a moment." His voice was thick. Rough. "Just—one moment."

I stayed. Held him while his shoulders shook. Pressed my lips to his temple and let him fall apart in the only place he’d ever allowed himself to be weak.

When he finally pulled back, his dark gold eyes were red-rimmed and luminous. He looked at me like I’d handed him the moon.

"How long have you known?"

"For a while. The court physician confirmed it recently."

"A while." He exhaled sharply. "You kept this from me for a while?"

"I wanted it to be perfect." I brushed a tear track from his cheekbone with my thumb. "You deserved a perfect moment."

Something flickered across his expression then. Brief but unmistakable. A shadow—quick as lightning, dark as the space between stars. His jaw tightened.

"When I walked in," he said slowly, "and the room was empty. And there was a note on the desk."

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

The memory hung between us like smoke. A different note. A different empty room. A different lifetime.

"I thought—" He stopped. Swallowed hard. His grip on my waist hadn’t loosened. "For one second, Elara. One second, I thought the box was... I thought you were telling me—"

"That I was leaving."

He closed his eyes. The muscle in his jaw worked beneath the skin.

"Never." I took his face in both hands and made him look at me. "Do you hear me? Never again. I’m here. I’m staying. There is no version of this world where I walk away from you."

"I know that." His voice was barely audible. "My head knows that. But the part of me that woke up alone for countless mornings—that part doesn’t always listen."

My chest ached. Not for myself. For him. For the years I’d taken from us both because I’d believed a lie.

"I’m sorry," I said. "For every morning you woke up reaching for me and I wasn’t there. For every milestone with Valerius you had to face without me. For every time Lyra asked where her mother was and you had to find an answer."

"Elara—"

"No. Let me say this." My throat burned. "I should have stayed. I should have fought harder. I should have trusted what we had instead of running."

He pressed his forehead against mine. "You were poisoned by their lies. The fault belongs to them. It has always belonged to them."

"Maybe. But the regret belongs to me."

Silence settled between us. Not the cold, hollow silence of separation. The warm kind. The kind that means everything important has already been said.

He kissed me then. Slow and deep and deliberate, like he was making a vow with his mouth instead of words. I melted into it. Let myself dissolve against his chest, into his warmth, into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with mine through the bond.

When he pulled away, his expression had changed. The shadow was gone. In its place—something fierce and blazing and entirely new.

"This time," he said, "I’m going to be there for everything. Every appointment. Every craving. Every sleepless night." His hand drifted down to rest against my stomach, palm flat, fingers spread wide. "You will not carry this alone. Not a single moment of it."

I covered his hand with mine. "Partners."

"In everything."

The door burst open.

"MOTHER!" "FATHER!"

Lyra and Valerius yelled as they burst in. Lyra hit us like a small silver-haired cannonball. She launched herself from a full sprint, and only Kaelen’s reflexes—honed by years of battle—saved all three of us from crashing to the floor. He caught her mid-air with one arm while keeping the other around me.

"Auntie Brenna said there’s a SURPRISE!" Lyra’s voice could have shattered crystal. Her golden eyes—so like her father’s—were enormous with excitement. "What is it? Is it a puppy? TELL ME IT’S A PUPPY!"

Behind her, Valerius entered at a measured pace. His dark curls were slightly windblown, his dark gold eyes scanning the room with the quiet assessment of a born strategist. He took in the scene—his father’s red-rimmed eyes, my flushed face, Lyra dangling from Kaelen’s arm—and something softened almost imperceptibly in his expression.

"You told Brenna before you told me," Kaelen murmured in my ear.

"Someone had to watch the children while I set up the box."

"I’ll deal with that betrayal later."

Lyra was squirming. "WHAT’S THE SURPRISE?"

I knelt down. Took her small hands in mine. Valerius stepped closer, standing just behind his sister with his arms folded—a miniature version of his father that made my heart clench.

"You’re going to be a big sister," I said.

Lyra blinked. Processed. Then screamed at a pitch that made Kaelen wince.

"A BABY?! WE’RE GETTING A BABY?!"

"Better than a puppy?" I asked.

"WAY BETTER!"

Valerius hadn’t moved. His eyes found mine. Steady. Serious. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

"I’ll teach them to fight," he said. "And to shift. Properly."

Kaelen’s hand settled on Valerius’s shoulder. Father and son exchanged a look that held an entire conversation in silence.

"Them?" Valerius caught it immediately. His eyes narrowed.

I looked up at Kaelen. He looked down at me. Something electric passed between us through the bond—a shared spark of mischief that felt like coming home.

"Twins." I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my entire face. "We’re having twins. A boy and a girl."