Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother Chapter 115

Elara’s POV

Weeks in a white room will hollow you out in ways you don’t expect.

Not the dramatic kind of hollowing—that had already happened. Moonlight was gone. That wound had scabbed over into sothing dull and permanent, a phantom limb I still reached for every morning before rembering. No, this was the slow, grinding kind. The kind that cos from counting ceiling stones. From morizing the pattern of cracks in the plaster. From lying still so long your body starts to forget it was ever ant to move.

The dical wing slled of dried lavender and bitter tincture. Always. The healers rotated fresh bundles every evening, but the sharpness underneath never faded. Antiseptic. Clean linen. The faint tallic tang of whatever salve they slathered across my bandages during the morning rounds.

I was healing. Physician Morgan told so every single day with the sa careful, asured optimism. My wounds were closing. My blood levels were stabilizing. My body, despite everything, was knitting itself back together with a stubbornness that seed to impress him.

"Remarkable," he’d said earlier, adjusting the compress on my shoulder. "For a—well. For soone in your current condition, you’re recovering faster than I anticipated."

For a mortal. That’s what he ant. He was too professional to say it outright, but the pause did the work for him. Every healer who examined now carried that sa careful pause. The space where they swallowed the word human before it left their mouths.

I stared at the ceiling and pressed my palm flat against my belly.

Beneath my hand, the slight curve answered. Warm. Present. Still there.

Morgan called the baby a little miracle. Every morning he pressed the listening horn to my abdon and nodded, his lined face softening. "Strong heartbeat. Steady. This child is a fighter."

A fighter. Like its mother used to be.

I closed my eyes and focused on the warmth beneath my palm. This was what I had left. This tiny, stubborn life growing inside despite everything that had tried to destroy us both. Moonlight was gone. My wolf senses were gone. My strength, my speed, my place in the empire’s hierarchy—all of it, stripped away. But this remained. This small, defiant heartbeat drumming against my hand like a promise.

I’m still here, it seed to say. We’re still here.

A knock at the door. Soft. Tentative.

Then a voice that cracked my ribs open every single ti.

"Mommy?"

I pushed myself upright against the pillows. The movent pulled at the healing skin across my torso, but I didn’t care. I was already smiling before the door swung open.

Valerius stood in the doorway. Five years old and so achingly small against the massive oak fra. His dark curls were slightly mussed—Kaelen never managed to comb them properly—and his golden eyes were wide and searching. He clutched sothing in his fist. A dandelion. Half wilted, its stem bent from being gripped too tightly for too long.

"Baby," I breathed. "Co here."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He crossed the room at a run, his boots slapping against the stone floor, and scrambled up onto the edge of my bed with the graceless urgency of a child who had been waiting far too long for this mont.

"Careful with Mommy," I heard from the doorway. A deep voice. Quiet authority.

Valerius ignored it entirely and burrowed into my side.

I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close, pressing my nose into his curls. He slled like soap and grass and sothing sweet—honey cakes, probably. Brenna always snuck him treats.

"I brought you this." He thrust the dandelion upward without lifting his face from my ribs. "It was really yellow before. But it got tired on the way here."

I took it carefully. Twirled the drooping stem between my fingers. "It’s beautiful. It’s the best flower anyone’s ever given ."

"Really?"

"Really."

He tilted his head up. Those dark gold eyes—his father’s eyes, down to the exact shade—studied my face with a seriousness no child should possess.

"When are you coming ho, Mommy?"

The question landed like a stone in still water.

"Soon, sweetheart. Very soon."

"How soon? Because Daddy reads the voices wrong." His brow furrowed—a perfect miniature of Kaelen’s expression when sothing displeased him. "He does the dragon voice too deep and the princess voice too squeaky. It’s not right."

A laugh escaped . Small and raw and genuine. It hurt my ribs and I didn’t care.

"I’ll co ho and fix the voices. I promise."

"Valerius."

Kaelen stepped into the room. He filled the doorway the way he filled every space—completely. His court uniform was immaculate, dark fabric tailored sharp across his broad shoulders. But his face told a different story. New lines had carved themselves around his eyes. A weariness that no amount of pressed linen could disguise. His hair, usually perfectly swept back, was slightly disordered, as though he’d been running his hands through it.

He looked exhausted. He looked powerful. He looked like a man holding himself together through sheer discipline while sothing inside him slowly crumbled.

"Give Mommy a mont to rest," he said. His tone was gentle but firm. "There are people waiting for you in the corridor."

"But I just got here—"

"Valerius."

The boy huffed. Pressed one fierce kiss against my cheek. Then slid off the bed with exaggerated reluctance, dragging his feet the entire way to the door.

"I’ll co back again soon," he announced. Not a question. A decree. Then he disappeared into the corridor, where I caught the brief murmur of a familiar female voice—Brenna, or possibly Sir Cassian—before the door drifted half shut.

Kaelen remained.

He stood at the foot of my bed. Hands clasped behind his back. The posture of a man giving a military briefing, not visiting his injured mate.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better." I tucked the wilted dandelion behind my ear. "Morgan says I’m healing well. I was thinking—maybe soon I could co ho. Start getting back to—"

"Don’t rush it." His voice was clipped. Not unkind, but firm. Final. "There’s no urgency. Your only task right now is to heal."

Sothing flickered in his expression. A shadow that passed too quickly for to na.

"Kaelen, I’m going to lose my mind if I stay in this room much longer. I need to do sothing. Even if it’s just reviewing docunts, or—"

"We can discuss it later. Rest now."

He held my gaze for a beat. Then he turned and walked out.

No kiss. No lingering touch. No we face this together like he’d promised when I first woke up. Just the crisp click of his boots on stone and the door left slightly ajar behind him.

I stared at the empty doorway.

The silence settled around like snowfall.

Then—voices. Faint. Drifting through the gap in the door.

With my forr wolf’s hearing, I could have caught a whispered conversation through solid stone walls. But I’d lost that. I was mortal now. Ordinary ears, ordinary range, ordinary everything.

Except Kaelen hadn’t gone far. He’d stopped just beyond the doorway. And his voice, even lowered, was the voice of a man accustod to being heard.

"...Claire, I need the candidate portfolios delivered to my study promptly."

A pause. The faint hum of a communication stone activating.

"Yes, Your Majesty. How many candidates should I prepare?"

"All of them. I want options. Schedule formal interviews in the coming days. I need soone in the position before she cos ho."

My breath stopped.

"Understood, sire. Should I prioritize candidates with imperial administrative experience, or—"

"Both administrative and diplomatic. Soone who can manage the advisory workload long-term. Full scope."

Another pause. Then Claire’s voice, more cautious: "And Lady Elara’s current title?"

Kaelen’s answer ca without hesitation. Low. Decisive. The voice of an emperor who had already made up his mind.

"She can’t go back to that role. She’s too fragile now. Find soone permanent."

The communication stone humd once more and went silent.

I sat perfectly still in my white bed, my hand resting over the soft kick of the baby, as the wilted dandelion slipped from behind my ear and landed quietly on the pillow.