**When Broken Stars Drift Across Empty Midnight Skies by Troy Mason Venn**
**Chapter 44: Our Accusations**
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“Do you have any idea what Alayah is up to?” Grandma calls out from the kitchen, her voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. Nero, leaning casually against the table, replies, “Dad and Mara took her out for dinner.” He pauses, a playful glint in his eye, “They’re at Jesse’s diner—the best place to eat in our Pack. I doubt she’ll enjoy it as much as your cooking, Grandma.”
Grandma chuckles, her hands busy chopping vegetables. “I hope so, or else I might just have to kick his ass,” she retorts with a hint of mischief.
“I want front row tickets to that,” Khal interjects, and I can’t help but burst into laughter, completely unfazed by the curious glances directed my way.
“Sorry, Grandma! I wasn’t laughing at you,” I manage to say between giggles, “but Khal just said he wants front row tickets for when you kick Nero’s ass!” My laughter is infectious, and soon everyone joins in, except for Nero, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.
Seated at the table with my brothers and Anton at one end, I glance over to see Grandma, Grandfather, Uncle Paul, and Uncle Rex gathered at the opposite end. I can’t help but wonder aloud, “Why do both families come together for Sunday dinner? I mean, there’s nothing really connecting us, is there?”
Noah swiftly smacks the back of my head, and Nero calls me a fool. Anton is laughing heartily, clearly enjoying the chaos. “You forgot about Alayah, Moron,” Noah points out, and I raise an eyebrow, genuinely perplexed.
“How many families do you know that gather for Sunday dinner just because they share some blood? I get having dinner with our grandparents, but all together? I can’t recall us ever having dinner with both sets of grandparents at the same time. That’s why I asked,” I explain, trying to make sense of it all.
A heavy silence falls over the table as everyone ponders my question. I can sense the wheels turning in their minds, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. Why is it so hard to understand this weekly gathering? Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy it. It’s just that I’ve only ever been in the same room as my maternal and paternal grandparents during birthdays or Christmas celebrations.
We hurry up the stairs to the Gamma floor, Anton trailing closely behind. He’s already warned Marc and Crystal to join us, and as we reach the Gamma floor, Noah’s phone rings again. He answers just as Marc and Crystal close the door behind them, the sound echoing ominously in the quiet room.
“Dad, we’re all here. Anton, Marc, and Crystal are with us. Can you please tell us what’s going on?” Noah asks, his voice a mixture of concern and impatience.
“Before I dive into that, I have a question for my sons,” Dad begins, his tone serious. “If you don’t want to answer it with everyone else around, just say so. But I expect an answer. Is it true that your Lycans haven’t felt a connection yet?”
I glance at Noah, then at Nero and Nathan, unsure of how to respond. I don’t mind answering in front of Anton, Marc, and Crystal, but I can’t shake the worry about how Alayah might react if I admit to feeling a connection. Just as I’m about to speak, Nero cuts in, “Miku felt a connection,” and Nathan, Noah, and I quickly echo him.
“Then I want to know why you all told someone that your Lycans hadn’t felt a connection yet,” Dad’s voice rises, tinged with anger. Noah’s face pales at Dad’s words, and suddenly it clicks for me—this is how Alayah’s gift was triggered. She overheard Noah talking to a girl in the living room, and it must have upset her, prompting her to use her ability without even realizing it. We pushed her to tap into a gift she didn’t know she possessed, and then we had the audacity to accuse her of lying.

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