Sold AS The alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 337

Chapter 117: Breeder to the Alpha King

Rosalie

Ethan rose early in the morning, several hours before I finally roused myself and traveled downstairs for a cup of coffee and one of Gretchen’s breakfasts. Georgia and Talon had already left for Gemma’s house, and the house was quiet, save for the sound of the washing machine running downstairs in the garage.

| tapped my fingers on my coffee mug as I moved from window to window in the living room, staring out at the ice covered inlet with interest.

We had gotten home from Mirage only a day ago, and I expected Ethan to want to rest for a while before diving into our typical duties that had been put on hold for the past several weeks.

But he wasn’t in his office. He wasn’t in the house at all. And after a short, brisk walk to the castle, I found him to be totally missing altogether.

None of the warriors seemed to know where he had gone, either.

When I returned to the house, I found Gretchen upstairs folding laundry in our bedroom. Apparently, Ethan had risen before Gretchen, who was the earliest riser I had ever met in my life, had even arrived at the house. He had made a pot of coffee and left.

Great, I thought dismally as I descended the stairs to the garage, flipping the light switch. Where the hell could he be? | counted the snowmobiles, the skis, and snowshoes. Everything was accounted for, except for one thing.

A fishing pole.

I went back upstairs and pulled on my heaviest, warmest parka and my boots with the best tread. Gretchen handed me a large metal lunchbox without saying a word, and a thermos filled with beef stew, and I was off to the only place one could reasonably fish in the dead of winter; the lake.

I found him after an almost thirty-minute walk along the base of the mountain the village of Winter Forest was nestled against. It was a small lake, more a pond compared to the sprawling lake in Mirage near the castle, so he was easy to spot as I came out of the trees and stood along the shore.

He didn’t look up at me as I approached, but continued to stare down into the hole he had cut into the ice, the auger laying on the ground only a few feet away.

“Anything biting?” I asked as I closed the distance between us. He peered up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Did you really drag the auger all the way out here by hand? It weighs a million pounds-”

He stood, taking the lunch box and thermos from me while motioning to the five-gallon bucket he had been sitting on. I shook my head, declining his offer of taking over his seat.

“I just came out here to confirm you hadn’t run off into the wilderness, abandoning your family forever.” I sat in the snow, finding it soft and thick enough to be comfortable. Ethan sat

back down, resting his fishing pole on the ground while he opened the lunch box and rummaged through whatever snacks Gretchen had packed for him.

wanted a moment to think, that’s all,” he finally said, closing the lunch box and setting it on the

was no warmth to be

Isn’t that what

afraid.” That was true. They wouldn’t be able to break ground on their new house in the village until late spring and wouldn’t move in until the end of the

and spoil, George as much as we wanted. That had to be enough to help fill

starts getting hot in the Isles,” I said, watching as Ethan picked up his

up here this summer as well,” Ethan replied, glancing over at me. “But we’ll all be in Mirage again late next summer, when

their baby.”

smiled, crossing my ankles as I stretched

“Me too.”

moment. I had something to ask him, the question having been nagging at me since the night Hanna took down Tasia at last. I looked at Ethan,

making Rowan

on the hole in the ice. Finally, he nodded once, glancing over at me with

I was.

will you do with all your free time?” | asked, genuinely curious. He arched his brow,

“Fish,” he said simply.

fifties, Ethan. What are you going to do with

breath, then smiled softly to himself, his chest rising and falling in

Soren can drive it off a cliff together? That thing is a death trap,

not when I’m finished with it. Plus… who the hell knows

alive,

letters, no sightings for ten years now, at least, Rosalie. That’s odd, even for

over his disappearance color my cheeks,

Old bastard he’d

no-good mood

than intended, but he didn’t flinch. He only rearranged his weight on the bucket, glancing quickly in my direction before looking down

just

wrong about that, but still,

“Oh, please-”

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