Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 177

Elara’s POV

The word hit me like a fist to the chest.

Mommy.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My hands hovered in the air above the child’s head, frozen mid-reach, because touching her felt like it would make this real and not touching her felt like cruelty.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy." She chanted it into the fabric of my trousers, her small fingers digging into the backs of my knees with surprising strength. Her whole body shook with relief. "I found you. I found you."

"Ela." Finnian’s voice came from behind me. Careful. Measured. "Do you know this child?"

"No," I said quickly. Too quickly. "No, I’ve never—I don’t know her."

The girl pulled back just enough to look up at me again. Those eyes. Blue-green, shifting like shallow water over pale sand. Familiar in a way that made my stomach drop.

Lyra.

No. Not Lyra. Lyra was far from here. Safe. Far away. This wasn’t—this couldn’t be—

"Sweetheart." I finally let my hands settle on the girl’s shoulders. Gently. The way you’d hold something made of glass. "Sweetheart, I think you have the wrong person."

She shook her head violently. One of her braids had come almost completely undone, the ribbon trailing down her back like a thin purple snake. "No! You’re her. You’re Mommy."

"I’m not, little one. I’m sorry."

"You ARE." She stamped one mismatched shoe—the pink one—against the cobblestones. "Daddy said! He said you have forest eyes and night hair."

The ground tilted beneath me.

Forest eyes. Night hair.

I swallowed hard. My throat felt like it was lined with thorns.

"Your daddy told you that?" My voice came out wrong. Thin. Fragile.

"He tells me every night." She said it with absolute conviction, the way children state facts about the sun rising or water being wet. "Before sleep. He says one day we’ll find you and bring you home and then everything will be right again."

Finnian stepped closer. I could feel his presence at my back—steady, watchful. "Ela, where’s this girl’s father? She shouldn’t be alone out here."

He was right. Of course he was right. A child this young, alone on a busy street, wearing her dress backwards and shoes that didn’t match—someone was missing her. Someone was probably frantic.

"Honey." I crouched lower, bringing myself to her eye level. Her face was still wet with tears, but she was beaming now. Radiant. Like I was a blessing from the Moon Goddess herself. "Where is your daddy right now? Can you tell me?"

She shrugged one bony shoulder. "He was talking to a boring man. I was waiting, but then I walked away and then..." Her lower lip wobbled. "Then I was lost."

"Okay. That’s okay, dear. We’ll find him."

"But I already found YOU." She grabbed my hand with both of hers, clutching my fingers like a lifeline. "Daddy’s been looking forever and ever. He’s so sad, Mommy. He tries to hide it but I can tell."

Something cracked inside my chest. A hairline fracture running through carefully constructed walls.

I thought of Valerius. The way he used to grab my hand with that same desperate grip whenever we crossed a busy street. The way his dark curls would bounce as he looked up at me with those gold eyes—trusting, certain, absolute in his faith that I would never let go.

I had let go.

I had walked away.

"Sweetheart." My voice broke on the word. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Listen to me carefully, okay? I know this is confusing, but I’m not your mommy."

Her face crumpled. "Yes you are."

"No, baby. I’m not." I tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers were trembling. "I have my own children. A boy and a girl. They’re far away from here."

"A girl?" Hope flickered. "Like me?"

The crack deepened. Spread.

"Yes," I whispered. "Like you."

"Then maybe I’m your girl! Maybe Daddy brought me here and—"

"No, darling." I held her small hands between mine. They were cold. Sticky with something that might have been jam. "My little girl is somewhere else. Do you understand?"

She stared at me. Those impossible blue-green eyes searched my face with an intensity no child that young should possess. Looking for something. Checking the details against whatever description she’d been given.

Then her expression shifted.

The hope drained out of her like water from a cracked cup. What replaced it was something I recognized. Something I’d seen in my own reflection for years.

Devastation.

"You don’t want me," she said. Not a question. A verdict.

"No—sweetheart, that’s not—"

"Nobody wants me!" Her voice pitched higher. Ragged. She yanked her hands from mine and stumbled backward. "Daddy looks and looks and Mommy never comes back and now you’re here and you don’t WANT me—"

"That’s not what I said." I reached for her. She dodged my hand.

"Ela," Finnian said quietly. "Careful."

"You’re a bad woman!" The girl’s face contorted—grief and rage tangling together the way they do in children who haven’t yet learned to separate the two. Tears poured freely now, dripping off her chin. "A mean, bad woman! I HATE you!"

She stomped her foot. Both feet. The purple shoe was too big for her—it must have been someone else’s—and it nearly flew off with the force of her anger.

"Honey, please. I just want to help you find your—"

"NO!"

She spun on her mismatched heels and bolted.

Not toward me this time. Away. Fast. Her small body darted past Finnian before either of us could react, those uneven braids streaming behind her as she rounded the corner at the end of the block.

"Wait!" I struggled to my feet, my legs weak and unsteady beneath me. "Come back! You can’t run off alone!"

But she was fast. Too fast. Already around the corner, vanishing from sight.