Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 188

Chapter 188: Chapter 188

Kaelen’s POV

The numbers on the page had stopped making sense an hour ago.

I stared at the same column of figures multiple times, the ink blurring into meaningless shapes. Revenue from the eastern territories. Trade tariffs from the southern ports. Grain yields that were down again for consecutive seasons. The financial report was thick enough to serve as a weapon, and about as pleasant to deal with.

My third cup of coffee had gone cold an hour ago. I picked it up anyway and drank. The bitter, stale liquid slid down my throat like punishment. I deserved it. I’d been sitting in this chair since before dawn, and the candles on my desk had burned down to stubby, flickering nubs.

The door opened without a knock.

Only one person in this entire empire walked into my study without knocking.

"You look terrible," Cassian said.

"Get out."

He didn’t get out. He closed the door behind him, crossed the room, and dropped into the chair across from my desk like he owned it. His armor was dusty. There was a fresh scratch along his jaw that hadn’t been there yesterday. He looked like he’d ridden hard to get here.

My stomach tightened.

"What happened?" I set down the coffee. The financial report could rot.

Cassian leaned forward, forearms on his knees. His expression was the carefully controlled kind that meant the news was bad and he was deciding how to deliver it.

"Just say it," I said.

"The scouts picked up activity at three separate locations over the past seventy-two hours."

"Three locations." I processed that. "Simultaneously?"

"That’s what the reports say. But—" He held up a hand before I could speak. "The timestamps don’t line up. The descriptions contradict each other. One scout reported a large war party moving east. Another reported a small raiding group heading south at the same time. The third claimed a single figure matching Malak’s description was seen, completely throwing off the timeline."

I stood up. The chair scraped back across the stone floor. "They’re feeding us false trails."

"Yes."

"Deliberately."

"Without question." Cassian’s jaw tightened. "They’ve been doing this for a while now, Kaelen. Every time we get close, the trail splits. Every lead turns into smoke. Malak and Isolde—they’re not running. They’re playing with us."

I walked to the window. The courtyard below was gray in the late afternoon light. Guards patrolled the walls in precise formation. Everything looked orderly. Controlled. The way an empire should look from its tallest tower.

It was a lie.

We’d been hunting Malak and Isolde since the day everything fell apart. Since the day she—

I shut that thought down. Hard. Like slamming a door on a fire.

"We push harder," I said. "Double the scout patrols. Rotate the units so they can’t predict our patterns. I want—"

"That won’t work."

I turned. Cassian met my gaze without flinching. He was one of the few people alive who could do that when I looked the way I did right now.

"Explain," I said quietly. The word carried an edge.

"We’ve been chasing these bastards for three years, Kaelen. Three years. And we’re no closer than we were at the start. Malak has people embedded in the borderlands. Sympathizers. Maybe even informants inside our own territory. Every time we adjust our strategy, he adjusts faster. We need something different."

"Different how?"

Cassian leaned back. Something shifted in his expression—calculating now. Strategic. I recognized that look. It meant he’d been thinking about this for a while and had been waiting for the right moment.

"I think we won’t find them anywhere else. Not in time."

I braced my hands on the window ledge. The stone was cold beneath my palms. Below, a pair of young soldiers sparred in the training yard with the clumsy enthusiasm of puppies. They had no idea what was coming. None of them did.

"This is reckless," I said.

"This is necessary." Cassian stood. "There’s a major bout tomorrow night. The kind that draws serious talent. Let me take you. You see the fighters for yourself. If nothing impresses you, we leave. You lose one evening. That’s all."

"And if they’re nothing but brawlers with death wishes?"

"Then I’ll buy you a drink and never mention it again."

I turned from the window. Cassian stood with his arms loose at his sides, his posture easy, but his eyes were sharp. Watchful. He knew he was pushing. He knew exactly which nerve he’d struck by invoking her name, and he’d done it anyway because he believed in this plan enough to risk my temper.

That was either bravery or stupidity. With Cassian, it was usually both.

The silence stretched. I thought about the scouts chasing phantoms across three fronts. About Malak’s mocking, invisible presence. About the training yard full of soldiers who weren’t ready. About the empty space in my empire that no report or strategy session could fill.

"One evening," I said. "If the fights are a waste of my time, I walk."

"Fair enough."

"And if a single one of those pit fighters so much as looks at me wrong—"

"I’ll handle it personally."

I held his gaze for a long moment. Then I sat back down and pulled the financial report toward me. Dismissed him without a word.

"Deal." Cassian rose, looking far too pleased with himself. "Trust me. You won’t be bored."