Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 281

Rosalie

It had been three days since Ernest and Gemma had arrived in Winter Forest. To say our lives hadn’t been completely turned upside down by their appearance, and shocking revelations of what happened in Mirage, would be an understatement.

On top of all of that, Gemma was pregnant with Ernest’s child. They were mates. Georgia had burst into tears when Ernest told her as such. Georgia had told us about her vision long ago, the same vision himself had seen in his youth that led him to believe he would never find his mate or have children. The announcement had been met with shock and joy, but mostly shock. This changed things for everyone, especially Maeve. If Ethan and Ernest were able to recover Mi rage, Gemma would be Luna. Their child would be the heir, and there was no longer a need for a breeder.

And despite an initially warm welcome, both Gemma and Ernest had been holding up in the small house Seraphine had built along the bluff overlooking the inlet, the door locked and the lights turned off.

They had been through hell and back. Whatever trauma they’d encountered on their journey, well, they weren’t willing to talk to us about it yet.

But Ernest had supplied us with something from the destruction of Mirage. He had handed a large, worn-out leather sketchbook to Talon and Ethan before he escorted a wary and exhaust ed Gemma to Seraphine’s old house. He had also given the flannel jacket Rowan and Maeve used to fight over, the flannel that was now confirmed to have been stolen away when Maeve left for Valoria, back to Rowan.

Rowan had been heartbroken. It was a sign that things with Maeve were not alright.

I was standing on the front deck, leaning on the railing and eavesdropping on the conversa tion taking place between Rowan, Ethan, and Talon. They were sitting in the wicker chairs around the outdoor table, scratching their heads over the incredibly detailed drawings and portraits in the sketchbook belonging to the man named Troy. A man, according to Ernest, who had been good. Someone even Ernest considered a friend.

How can that be?

“Wait a minute -” Talon had reached out to stop Rowan from turning a page. Talon stood, sketchbook in hand as he looked down at the page, holding the sketchbook at an angle to get a better view of the drawing in the light. “Do you know who this is, Ethan?”

Ethan peered at the page as Talon lowered the sketchbook, his brow knitted in concentra tion. I saw a flash of recognition in his eyes, then his head snapped in Talon’s direction, his body nearly jumping out of his chair. “It’s not

“That’s Madalynn. I’m sure of it.”

“Who?” Rowan looked down at the page just as I started moving forward, unable to stop my

self. 

And there she was, her facial features blurred as if drawn from some distant, forgotten memory or someone else’s description. Her face shape was spot on, her hair an identical shade of brown that I remembered vividly. I felt sick to my stomach suddenly, having to turn away be fore I met Ethan’s eyes.

I hadn’t thought about Madalynn in years.

The sudden, painful realization of the reasoning for her sudden appearance swept over me as I slowly turned back to Ethan, who was looking right at me. “Her child?” I asked in a barely au dible whisper.

“It was a boy. That’s all I know.” Ethan swallowed hard, looking down at the page once more before turning his head to look over the railing, his eyes lost in thought.

There was a time I wished for nothing more than Madalynn’s slow, painful death. But some thing had changed in me when I had Rowan, something only a mother can truly feel. When we found out about Madalynn’s pregnancy before she was put in prison, I was torn to shreds with guilt and sadness.

I told Ethan to never tell me what happened to Madalynn and her child, and he never did.

Not until today.

“Madalynn is dead, Rosalie. Her child was safe.” Ethan crossed his arms over his chest.

“What happened to him?” I asked, my voice tight with emotion.

“I don’t rightfully know. Only that he was given to someone for safekeeping,” he said.

“Not to Behar?” | asked, my stomach beginning to turn as I looked down at the painting of Madalynn on the table between us.

“It could have been, but Behar allegedly died in the war; at least that was what Madalynn had told everyone. The boy would’ve been orphaned fully if that was true. Who knows where he end ed up,” said Talon.

“Well, he ended up in Valoria,” Rowan said, his voice cutting through the air as he turned the pages of the notebook and settled his gaze on the open page. We all looked down, and a somber silence paused our conversation.

It was Maeve, drawn with such talent that I felt like I was looking at a photograph of her. She was smiling, laughing, her eyes shining on the page.

It had been drawn with great care.

With love. 

I reached up to wipe my eyes, turning away from the group as I walked a few paces away.

“Is this man…” came Talon’s voice behind me.

“It’s probable this man is Madalynn and Behar’s son, yes.” Ethan’s voice was steady, as though the idea of our daughter in the hands of a man sharing the same blood as the very wom an who had caused so much grief and chaos was nothing to scoff at.