Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 234

Chapter 234: Chapter 234

Kaelen’s POV

The word detonated in the space between us.

Pregnant.

I heard it. I understood the syllables. But my brain refused to process them. Like swallowing a mouthful of broken glass—the body knows something is wrong before the mind catches up.

"What did you say?"

Seraphine flinched. Her hands stayed pressed against her stomach. Tears carved wet lines down her hollow cheeks. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"I’m pregnant," she repeated. Quieter this time. As if saying it softer might lessen the blow.

It didn’t.

"No." The word came out flat. Final. A wall slamming down. "No, you’re not."

"I am, Your Majesty. I’ve seen physicians. The symptoms started shortly after that night—"

"That night." I laughed. It was an ugly sound. Sharp and brittle. "You mean the night I can’t remember? The night I woke up in a bed I didn’t choose, in a room I don’t recognize, with a headache that felt like someone had driven an iron spike through my skull?"

She swallowed. "Yes. That night."

I turned away from her. Walked to the window. My reflection stared back at me—dark gold eyes, hollow beneath. A man coming apart at the seams.

"Walk me through it." My voice was controlled now. Surgical. "Start from the council chamber meeting. Gareth called me about Isolde—some supposed intelligence she’d passed to the border clans. I went. He was there. You were there. And then what?"

Seraphine wiped her face with the back of her hand. "After the briefing, Prince Gareth produced a bottle. He said it was imported. Rare. Something to celebrate the successful intelligence exchange." Her voice shook. "You drank. He poured generously. I watched you... change. Soon your eyes lost focus. Your words became thick. Slurred."

My jaw tightened. "And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning to someone? That your Emperor was losing consciousness in front of you?"

"I tried to help. I suggested we call for a physician. But you—" She hesitated. "You pulled me toward the door. Said you needed air. We ended up in your carriage. You gave the driver an address. An inn in the city."

"I gave the address."

"Yes."

"While I was drugged and barely conscious."

"You were... functioning. Moving. Speaking. But not—" She pressed her lips together. "Not yourself."

I turned back to face her. Slowly. "And at this inn. What happened."

She looked at the floor. "You know what happened."

"I don’t. That’s the entire problem, Seraphine. I don’t remember a single moment of it."

Silence stretched taut between us.

Then her fingers moved to the collar of her dress. She pulled the fabric aside. There—along the curve of her collarbone, trailing down to her shoulder, climbing up the side of her neck—were bruises. Deep. Purple. Unmistakable.

Bite marks.

My stomach dropped.

I knew those marks. I knew the pattern, the spacing, the pressure behind them. I’d left identical marks on Elara’s skin countless times. The collarbone first. Then the shoulder. Then the throat. Always in that order. A signature I didn’t even think about—instinct encoded in muscle memory.

"And your back," Seraphine whispered. "When you bathed. You must have noticed the scabs."

I had noticed. Long parallel scratches raked down my shoulder blades. I’d assumed—I’d wanted to assume—they’d come from some accident. A training yard injury I’d forgotten. Anything but this.

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