Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Chapter 150

Kaelen’s POV

The war map bled red.

I traced the eastern border with one finger, counting the fresh marks. Three new attacks in the past week alone. Each one bolder than the last. Each one closer to populated territory.

"The Campbell farmstead strike yielded results," Marcus said from my left, his voice low and steady. "We confirmed seven rogues eliminated. But at least three escaped into the northern tree line before our scouts could close the perimeter."

I stared at the map. The red dots clustered like a disease spreading through the body of my empire.

"And the patrol reports?" I asked without looking up.

Cassian shifted on my right. I heard the fatigue in his breathing before he spoke. "The knights are stretched thin, Kaelen. We’ve been running double rotations for over a month now. Men are falling asleep in their saddles. Mistakes are being made."

"Mistakes get people killed."

"So does exhaustion."

I lifted my gaze from the map. Cassian met it without flinching. That was why I kept him close—he was one of the few who would look me in the eye when delivering news I didn’t want to hear.

"What are you suggesting?" I asked. My voice came out flat. Dangerous. I didn’t bother softening it.

"A rotation schedule. Pull some units back for rest. Replenish. Then—"

"No." I straightened to my full height. "We’re not pulling back. We’re pushing forward."

Marcus’s quill paused mid-stroke.

"The strategy shifts today," I continued. "No more defense. No more patrols and perimeters and waiting for them to come to us." I flattened both palms on the map. "We hunt."

The silence in the war room was absolute.

A knock broke it. Soft. Precise. Three quick raps.

"Enter," I said.

Sylvia stepped through the door, her dark hair pinned in its usual immaculate arrangement. She held a leather-bound schedule against her chest.

"Your Majesty Nightfire," she said, her chin dipped. "Your nine o’clock appointment is here. The Elder Council representatives."

"Send them in."

She hesitated—just a fraction of a heartbeat too long. Her eyes lingered on me. I ignored it.

"At once, Your Majesty." She retreated, and moments later three figures filed in.

Henry came first. Then William. Then Catherine. All three wore expressions carved from the same grey stone.

"Kaelen," Henry began without preamble. His voice carried the weight of decades in service. "We need to discuss the eastern territories."

"I’m aware."

"The villages are emptying," Catherine said, stepping forward. Her silver hair caught the morning light. "Families are fleeing west. The ones who remain are terrified. Morale across the region has collapsed entirely."

William nodded, his thick arms folded across his chest. "Our garrison commanders report desertion rates climbing. Men don’t want to fight an enemy that strikes from shadows and vanishes like smoke."

I let them finish. Let the words settle in the air like dust after a collapse.

Then I spoke.

"Effective immediately, the empire enters a state of total war."

Henry’s jaw tightened.

"Every rogue encampment within a hundred miles of our borders will be located and burned to ash," I continued. "No negotiation. No prisoners. No mercy."

Catherine’s hand rose slightly. "Kaelen, the resources required for such an operation—"

"Will be allocated." I held her gaze until she looked away. "This is not a discussion. This is a directive."

The three elders exchanged glances. I watched the objections form and die behind their teeth. They were wise enough to recognize finality when they heard it.

"Understood," Henry said quietly. He inclined his head. The others followed suit.

They filed out the way they’d come. Grave. Silent. Obedient.

The door closed.

I exhaled through my nose and turned back to the map. The red dots stared back at me. Each one a failure. Each one a life I hadn’t protected.

Each one a reminder that my empire was fracturing while the woman who held it together was gone.

---

At two o’clock in the afternoon, after the communication briefing concluded, I was gathering documents when Sylvia appeared again. She’d changed—a softer blouse, her hair loosened slightly at the temples. Subtle. Deliberate.

"Your Majesty," she said, lingering in the doorway. "I wanted to ensure you’d eaten today. You skipped lunch again."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify