Love Times Four My Stepbrothers Are My Mates (Alayah) novel Chapter 124

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

**Chapter 124: Rodely Awakened**

**Alayah’s p.o.v.**

I am absolutely furious. How dare he come here and treat me with such blatant disrespect? If that fool ever dares to cross my path again, I swear I will strip him of his title and bury him so deep that not even the bravest soul will ever find him. The audacity of some people is truly astounding.

My Mates trail closely behind me, their presence a silent support, but not one of them utters a word. And they’d better not. The last thing I need right now is for anyone to provoke my wrath. I am more than capable of taking down anyone who dares to speak out of turn. That narrow-minded Elder should really consider picking up a hobby instead of meddling in matters he clearly doesn’t understand.

“Why is it so damn hard for people to show some basic respect? Why do males struggle so much to respond to a female? Are we really living in a world filled with complete dimwits?” I continue my tirade as we stride into the Pack-house, my voice echoing with frustration. Just then, Grandma has the audacity to chuckle, as if my anger is some sort of joke.

“Who has you all twisted up, Baby Girl?” Mom inquires, her voice laced with concern. Noah, ever the eager one, takes it upon himself to recount the incident at the gate. The few Pack members gathered in the lobby with us start cursing and swearing, their indignation mirroring my own.

“Sweetheart, do you really expect someone to answer your questions?” Grandma asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I nod, fully aware of the reason behind her question. “Do you want a diplomatic answer or the unvarnished truth?” she probes, and I can sense the anticipation in the room. Everyone expects me to demand the truth.

“Why don’t you give me both? Start with the diplomatic one,” I reply, settling down on the bottom step of the staircase, my posture relaxed yet still charged with irritation.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Grandma begins, her tone shifting to one of wisdom. “Males are raised with certain societal expectations. They’re taught that females are weaker than they are, and that it’s their duty to protect us. If you observe other shifters around, you’ll notice that every male instinctively tries to shield a female, even when it’s completely unnecessary.” Her gaze sweeps across the room, and I notice seven males with their hands sheepishly raised, as if to signal their agreement.

It seems that the males in my life are acutely aware of the potential fallout of upsetting their Mates. They know we’re more than capable of standing our ground, and this is their way of showing us their respect. I can’t help but wonder how they will react to Grandma’s blunt honesty.

“Now, let me share the truth with you, and I assure you, if you keep this in mind, you will recognize it in nearly every male you encounter,” Grandma continues as she settles into a chair, her demeanor serious.

“Males possess an ego the size of a mountain, yet their brains are often the size of a pea.” She pauses, letting her words hang in the air, fully aware that someone will inevitably respond.

“Mom, that’s not a nice thing to say. I don’t have an ego like that!” Dad interjects, his voice a mix of protest and amusement as he pulls Mom closer, eliciting a soft giggle from her. I can’t quite discern which of Grandma’s remarks has tickled her so.

“Mama, Mama,” I hear Cassandra whisper-yell, her tiny voice breaking through my thoughts. “Maxie, stuck,” she continues, and I slowly open my eyes, taking in the sight of my Mates, blissfully asleep. Carefully, I extricate myself from the warm embrace of their arms, pulling a shirt over my head before lifting Cassandra into my arms.

As I walk towards their room, I’m met with a sight that makes me question whether I should laugh or call for help. Maxwell’s lower body is wedged awkwardly through the bars of his crib, his little face contorted in concentration as he struggles to free himself. He attempts to pull himself back into the crib, only to push further through the bars, clearly frustrated.

“Mama, help,” he whispers, and the sound jolts me out of my momentary daze. I gently place Cassandra on the floor next to Maxwell and swiftly remove his pajama bottoms and diaper, granting him the space he needs to wriggle back into his crib.

“Mama, love,” he says, reaching out his arms to me, and I can’t help but smile. I know that next time, he’ll either manage it on his own or enlist his sister’s help.

It’s nearly seven in the morning, and I decide it’s best to get both of them dressed and fed before waking my Mates. I grab a small bag, packing a clean set of clothes, a few toys, and I’ll add some snacks once I’m downstairs. Maxwell clutches his beloved stuffed elephant while Cassandra holds onto her unicorn; they never leave the Alpha residence without them.

As I exit the kitchen to rouse my Mates, I can already sense Topaz’s determined approach. I tread softly through our bedroom and into the bathroom, where my Mates are tangled in a heap of limbs. I know that in mere moments, they’ll be a chaotic scramble on the floor.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slams shut, and a heartbeat later, I hear them tumbling out of bed, cursing and swearing as they’re unceremoniously jolted awake.