Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Elara’s POV

“No.”

The word left my mouth before my brain caught up. His hand was still locked around my wrist, and every nerve ending beneath his fingers screamed in protest at my refusal.

Kaelen’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t a request.”

“I have plans tonight.” I tugged my wrist. He didn’t let go. “Brenna is expecting me. And Valerius—”

“Your son has a caretaker, and she will manage,” Kaelen dismissed my concerns casually. A teasing glint caught his dark gold eyes. “For someone who usually has so much to say, you look like a speechless commoner right now.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but the words failed me. “One concern,” I finally said, grasping for any remaining thread of resistance. “This dress.” I gestured down at my simple work gown. “I can’t walk into a state banquet looking like a servant.”

“You won’t.” He stepped back. “A gown will be delivered.”

“And if something happens to it? If someone spills something, or it tears? I can’t afford to replace—”

He stopped and turned. The candlelight caught the sharp edge of his jaw. “I protect what belongs to me,” he said. Low. Certain. Final. “You won’t pay for a thing.”

Moonlight purred inside my chest—a deep, rolling, shameless vibration. Did you hear that? she murmured, utterly consumed by the swirling heat of desire. He smells like sandalwood and pure male. Let him protect us.

I forced her voice down, but the intoxicating blend of his scent made my head spin.

We spent the next eight hours engaged in tense, surprisingly synchronized work. Every time I turned to reference a royal document, his hand was already there; every time he needed a ledger, I had it ready. It was a terrifyingly perfect rhythm.

When the work was done, the promised dress arrived—a stunning ice-blue gown that fit me perfectly. After changing, I met Kaelen outside. He wore an impeccably tailored midnight-blue uniform that made him look every inch the dangerous Alpha emperor he was.

A cascade of fiery liquid suddenly struck my chest, splashing across the ice-blue bodice and ruining the dress instantly. Red wine.

“Oh my GOD! You bitch!”

The voice was theatrical, dripping with malice. I gasped, the cold liquid seeping to my skin. I looked up to see a woman standing there, an empty goblet in her hand. She had bleached-blonde hair arranged in elaborate waves. It was a face that had haunted my nightmares for five years. Isolde.

“Poor little—” Isolde began to mock, her eyes raking down my ruined gown with undisguised satisfaction.

Then she froze.

Her cruel smile vanished. I watched the recognition hit her like a physical blow. The color drained from her cheeks, and the goblet trembled in her hand as she stared at my face.

“It’s you!” she gasped, her voice gone hoarse with disbelief and something that looked terribly like panic. “Ela!”