Love Times Four My Stepbrothers Are My Mates (Alayah) novel Chapter 1

**When Broken Stars Drift Across Empty Midnight Skies by Troy Mason Venn**

My name is Alayah, and I’m a sixteen-year-old Lycan. As I sit on the back porch, the cool evening breeze dances around me, and my gaze drifts toward my mother, who is sprawled out near the flowerbed. She’s lost in her own thoughts, as she often is, her eyes glazed over as if she’s peering into a world far removed from ours.

From my earliest memories, she has always seemed distant, a ghostly presence drifting in and out of my life. Grandma often recounts tales of how devoted my mother was when I was a baby, but the moment I began to react to her, she started to retreat. No one has ever offered me an explanation for this emotional distance, leaving me to ponder the reasons behind her withdrawal.

Dinner has become a predictable affair whenever she’s home—an atmosphere thick with silence and tension. Grandma and I fill the void with our chatter, yet even she knows better than to expect much from my mother. It’s as if my mother’s presence casts a shadow over the table, and we tiptoe around it, careful not to disturb the fragile peace.

After our meal, I retreat to my room, seeking refuge in my accounting studies. I chose this path deliberately; most Pack leaders despise the numbers and ledgers, and I want to be of service to our Alpha. It’s my way of contributing, a means to carve out a semblance of control in a life where my mother’s absence looms like a dark cloud.

When morning breaks, I awaken with a sinking feeling in my chest—it’s a familiar dread. My mother has vanished once more, slipping away into the night as she always does. We wait for her return, but a part of me harbors a secret wish that she might not come back at all. Yet, another part clings to the flickering hope that perhaps, one day, we could forge a normal relationship.

It wasn’t always like this. I remember a time when my father was alive, before tragedy struck. He was taken from us in a Rogue attack just six months after he and my mother had marked one another. Grandma often tells me they were Mates, and that my mother was devastated by his loss. Even the news of my impending arrival did little to lift her from the depths of her sorrow—Grandma had to keep a watchful eye on her around the clock.

Mom remained with us until I turned eight, but then began her pattern of disappearing for months at a time, indifferent to my life and school. The only moments I shared with her were spent by the flowerbed that my father had lovingly planted for her, where she would sit for hours, staring vacantly at the sky. I tend to that flowerbed with care; it’s the sole remnant of my father that I have left.

Then, just days before I turned seventeen, something shifted in the air. My mother returned after a prolonged absence, and for the first time in years, she looked me in the eye. “I am sorry, but you remind me too much of him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was the last thing she ever said to me before disappearing once again.

In that moment, clarity washed over me—I understood that her pain was intrinsically tied to me, to the way I mirrored my father in both appearance and demeanor. With his jet-black hair and striking emerald green eyes, I was a reflection of him, albeit a female version.

My yearning to know more about my father grew, and I turned to Grandma’s brother, Uncle Rex. In a moment of unguarded honesty, he revealed that my father was the older brother of our Beta. It dawned on me then that I had more family than I had ever realized.

Determined to uncover the truth, I decided to visit the Pack-house, seeking answers that had long eluded me.

As I approached the Pack-house that morning, a knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach. Topaz, my ever-faithful companion, and I braced ourselves for the worst—my family rejecting me just as my mother had done.

Along the way, I spotted other Pack members hurrying past, some bickering about being late while others discussed their night patrols. I felt no rush; Grandma had homeschooled me, and for the past year, I had been taking online college classes. I was smarter than the average Lycan, and I had graduated early.

When I finally entered the Pack-house, Alpha Randell looked up, surprise flickering across his features.

“Good morning, Alpha,” I greeted, my voice steady despite my nerves.

“Good morning. I don’t believe we’ve met. Who are you?” he inquired, his tone curious but not unkind. Beside him stood a tall, imposing figure—my uncle.

“My name is Alayah,” I responded, holding his gaze with determination. “I live with my grandmother near the eastern border.”

Alpha Randell’s eyes darted to my uncle, and I could sense the confusion brewing within him. There it was—the unspoken question that hung in the air between us. I refused to give him the satisfaction of clarity; if my uncle wanted to know if I was indeed his niece, he could ask me directly. I wouldn’t make this easy for him.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify