Love Times Four My Stepbrothers Are My Mates (Alayah) novel Chapter 8

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**When Broken Stars Drift Across Empty Midnight Skies by Troy Mason Venn**
**Chapter 8 Explanation**

**Alayah’s p.o.v.**

“I’m Alayah, and this is my Mother,” I declare, my gaze locked onto his. I can see the shock ripple through his features, a mixture of disbelief and empathy swirling in his eyes.

“My Father was the rightful Beta of this Pack,” I continue, my voice steady but my heart heavy. “But circumstances forced him to relinquish that position to his younger brother. He died during a Rogue attack while valiantly protecting Luna Vicky. Tragically, he left this world without ever knowing that his Mate was carrying his child.” As I speak, I notice tears glistening on my Mother’s cheeks, an unusual sight that twists my heart. It’s the first time I’ve witnessed her cry over Dad, and the vulnerability in her expression shakes me to my core.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the weight of my words hanging in the air between us. “I never intended for you to be hurt. I know my response to Maxwell’s death caused you pain, and I realize I’ve hurt our family too. I fear I may have irreparably damaged the bond we once shared.” My voice quivers, but I press on, compelled to lay bare the turmoil within me.

“When I discovered I was pregnant with you, I was torn apart. A part of me felt an overwhelming gratitude for having a piece of your Father still with me, while another part was gripped by fear—fear that you would resemble him too closely.” My heart aches as I remember those tumultuous days. “I was so conflicted throughout my pregnancy that your Grandmother had to guide me through it. I shudder to think what might have happened if she hadn’t been by my side.”

As I reminisce, I feel a flicker of warmth at the memory of your birth. “When you came into this world, I was filled with joy. You had your Father’s eyes—those beautiful, expressive eyes that I had always adored.” A soft smile graces my lips, but it quickly fades. “For a long time, I believed I could find happiness again, that I could raise you while keeping your Father’s memory tucked safely in the corners of my mind.”

“But what I didn’t anticipate was how painful it would become to look at you. As you grew, you began to mirror him more and more—your mannerisms, your expressions, even the way you carried yourself. It was as if every moment spent with you dragged me back to that dreadful day, forcing me to relive the agony of losing him.” My voice drops to a whisper, and I catch a glimpse of Alpha Randell’s shocked expression as the weight of my admission sinks in—he hadn’t known I had been there that day.

“When you turned fifteen, I finally sought help, but my stubbornness kept me shackled to my pain. I thought I could manage seeing you every day without falling apart. I should have listened to my counselor and confided in your Grandmother about my need for distance to heal. It took me nearly two years to accept that I could never truly heal while remaining in your presence.”