Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 247

Chapter 247: Chapter 247

Kaelen’s POV

The summons came through a pulse of amber light against my wrist—Cassian’s personal signal, urgent and unbroken.

I pressed two fingers to the enchanted band. His voice filled the study, tight with controlled tension.

"We intercepted her. North road, heading toward Stonebrook. She was in a hired carriage under a false name."

I stopped pacing. "How far out?"

"Twenty minutes. Maybe less if we push the horses."

Silence hung between us. I could hear hoofbeats in the background, the rattle of a carriage over rough stone.

"Kaelen." Cassian’s voice dropped. Careful now. Measured. "She’s my cousin."

"I’m aware."

"What I mean is—she’s pregnant. And frightened. Whatever she’s done, we can’t just throw her into—"

"Bring her to the dungeons."

The silence that followed was different. Heavier.

"The dungeons? Those cells are built for captured rogues. For war criminals. Not for—"

"Cell three. Isolated wing. No visitors. No messages. No contact with anyone until I arrive."

"Kaelen, please. She’s family. My blood. Whatever she’s—"

"She helped destroy mine." My voice didn’t rise. Didn’t need to. "Twenty minutes, Cassian. Don’t make me repeat myself."

The connection severed with a faint hiss.

I stood in the darkened study for a long moment. My hands were perfectly still at my sides. My breathing was even. My heartbeat steady.

Everything else inside me was a wasteland.

Elara’s face surfaced unbidden—the way she’d looked standing in the doorway of our bedchamber. That expression. Not rage. Not even grief. Something worse. Something extinguished. Like watching a candle go out and knowing you could never relight it.

I buried the image. Shoved it down into the same black pit where I’d been storing every memory of her since she vanished. There would be time for that later. Time to bleed, to beg, to crawl on my knees if that’s what it took.

But first—answers.

I changed into a plain dark coat. No insignia. No crown. Just a man walking into a hole in the ground to meet the woman who’d helped burn his world to cinders.

---

Twenty minutes later, I entered the damp, cold underground cells built specifically for dangerous rogues. The dungeons beneath the palace were old. Older than the current dynasty. Carved from raw granite during some forgotten war, they smelled of damp stone and iron and things left too long in the dark. Torchlight flickered against walls slick with moisture. The air was cold enough to see your breath.

The guard stationed at the bottom of the stairs straightened so fast his armor clanked.

"Your Majesty." He bowed deeply, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Leave us."

"Sire, protocol requires—"

"Leave."

He left. His footsteps echoed up the stone passage and faded into nothing.

I walked the corridor alone. Past empty cells. Past rusted chains bolted into walls. Past drains set into the floor that I didn’t want to think about.

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