Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 206

Chapter 206: Chapter 206

Elara’s POV

The house looked the same.

That was the cruelest part.

Same iron gate. Same climbing ivy on the eastern wall. Same stone steps leading to the front door, worn smooth in the center from years of footsteps.

I stood on the path and couldn’t move.

Kaelen was already at the door, key in hand. He glanced back. Waited. Said nothing.

My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. The short walk from the carriage to the entrance had taken everything I had. Now the final stretch—a few steps, maybe fewer—seemed impossible. Like crossing a frozen lake and knowing the ice was already cracked beneath my feet.

I made myself move.

One step. Two. The smell hit me first. Through the open door, a rush of warm air carrying scents I hadn’t known I remembered. Beeswax candles. Pine wood. Something faintly sweet, like dried lavender tucked into linen closets.

Home.

No. Not home. Not anymore. A place I had abandoned.

I stepped inside.

The foyer was smaller than I remembered. Or maybe I had grown larger in the wrong ways—harder, sharper, all edges where softness used to be. My eyes swept the space and snagged immediately on the details that hadn’t existed before.

A pink backpack slumped against the bottom stair. Tiny shoes scattered beside it—some covered in glitter, others printed with little dragons.

Lyra’s things.

I knew it the way I knew my own pulse. These belonged to the daughter I’d left when she was still small enough to cradle in one arm.

My throat closed.

"Come in," Kaelen said. Not gently. Not harshly. Just flat. The voice of a man who had rehearsed neutrality until it became reflex.

I followed him into the living room.

Coloring books and puzzles covered the coffee table.

And on the wall—the portraits.

I stopped breathing.

They were arranged in a row above the mantelpiece. The new portraits showcased Valerius’s growth through his childhood, tracing the progression from a little boy into an older youth. Each portrait captured a phase I had missed. Each one a door I could never reopen.

Beside them were smaller frames of Lyra, capturing her early birthdays. From a round-cheeked baby to a steadier toddler, and then a grinning little girl. They marked the time that had passed since I left when she was merely an infant.

Every milestone. Every candle. All of it had happened without me.

My knees buckled.

I caught myself on the back of a chair. Gripped it hard enough that my knuckles turned white. The room blurred. I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. Not here. Not yet.

Kaelen stood near the fireplace. He was watching the portraits too, but his expression was blank. Scraped clean.

"I kept everything," he confessed, staring at the mantelpiece.

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