Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Elara’s POV

The road blurred beneath the wheels of the hired carriage. Every rut, every stone jolted through my spine, but I felt none of it. My hands were locked around the edge of the seat, knuckles bone-white. My breath came in shallow, ragged pulls that never quite filled my lungs.

Valerius. Someone took Valerius.

Brenna’s voice still echoed in my skull—fractured, panicked, the words tumbling over each other like she couldn’t get them out fast enough. Someone picked him up from the academy. He’s gone. Elara, he’s gone.

Then the connection had died. My communication stone—cracked during the violent escape from the Baroness’s manor—flickered once and went dark in my palm. I’d tried squeezing it, shaking it, pressing it against my chest as if my heartbeat could revive the enchantment. Nothing. Dead crystal. Dead line.

I was completely alone.

“Please,” I whispered to no one. To the Moon Goddess. To the air rushing past the carriage window. “Please let him be safe. Please. He’s all I have.”

The capital’s outer walls rose in the distance. I leaned forward, urging the driver faster with a sharp knock on the partition. The horses surged. Cobblestones replaced dirt. Streetlamps smeared into streaks of amber light as we tore through the evening streets.

The academy sat on a quiet lane near the merchant quarter. Iron gates. Stone walls topped with decorative spikes. A place meant to feel safe. A place I had chosen because it was safe.

The carriage hadn’t fully stopped before I threw the door open and hit the ground running. My soft-soled shoes slapped against the wet stone. The gates were locked. Chained. The courtyard beyond them dark and still.

I slammed my palms against the iron bars. The impact sang up through my wrists, my elbows, my shoulders.

“Open the gate!” My voice cracked. Too loud. Too desperate. I didn’t care. “Someone open this gate now!”

Silence.

I hit the bars again. Again. The chain rattled but held. My palms stung. I could feel the ridges of the ironwork imprinting themselves into my skin.

“Please! My son—my son is a student here. Please, I need—”

A lantern bobbed into view from the side entrance. A man in a grey uniform appeared, moving with the cautious gait of someone approaching trouble.

“Ma’am, the academy is closed for the—”

“My son is missing.” The words came out like something torn from my chest. “He was taken. Someone took him from here today. Let me in. Let me in.”

The guard’s expression shifted. The professional caution dissolved into something softer. He looked at my face—whatever he saw there was enough. Without another word, he produced a ring of keys and unlocked the chain.

I was through the gap before he’d finished pulling the gate open.

“The headmistress—Mrs. Henderson—I need her. Now.”

“She’s been notified, ma’am. She’s on her way. Should be here shortly.”

Shortly. The word meant nothing. Every second that passed was a second my son was somewhere I couldn’t reach. Somewhere I couldn’t protect him. I paced the dark courtyard, arms wrapped around myself, my nails digging crescents into my own biceps.

Within twenty minutes, I heard footsteps. Quick, uneven. Mrs. Henderson appeared through the main building’s side door, her silver hair hastily pinned back, her shawl clutched around her shoulders with trembling hands. Her kind, lined face was blotched red. She’d been crying.

My stomach dropped through the floor.

“Mrs. Henderson.” I seized her arm. “Where is my son?”

“Miss Frostfang, I—” Her voice splintered. Fresh tears spilled down her weathered cheeks. “I am so sorry. I am so terribly, terribly sorry.”

“Where is he?”

“A woman came. This afternoon.” Mrs. Henderson’s hands shook so violently that her shawl slipped off one shoulder. She didn’t notice. “Young. Blonde. Mid-twenties, perhaps. Beautifully dressed. She said—she said she was Valerius’s aunt. She gave the family name. Valois.”

The name hit me like a fist to the sternum.

“She had documents,” Mrs. Henderson continued, her words tumbling out between sobs. “Papers with the family seal. She was so polished, so convincing. She spoke about Valerius by name, knew his schedule, knew his favorite—”

“What did she look like?” My voice had gone flat. Dead. The panic was still there, still screaming behind my ribs, but something colder had risen over it. Something sharp and lethal.

“Blonde hair. Golden, like honey. She looked to be in her mid-twenties—”

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