Page 8 of The Alpha's Pretend Mate

She flicked on the lights, illuminating the shabby furniture and peeling wallpaper. It wasn't much, but it was hers. Or it had been until she'd blown her chance at keeping it.

She sank onto the worn couch, burying her face in her hands. The familiar weight of hopelessness settled over her.

Why can't I get anything right?

Her gaze fell on a framed photo on the coffee table—her and Aleksander at his Alpha ceremony. Her brother stood tall and proud in his ceremonial robes while Alysa beamed at his side.

Look at us. The Alpha and the fuckup.

It hadn't always been that way. Growing up, Alysa had been the golden child—outgoing, popular, and always at the center of attention. Aleksander was the quiet one, more comfortable with books than people.

But somewhere along the way, things had shifted. Aleksander grew into his role as future Alpha, exuding a quiet confidence that drew people to him. And Alysa… Alysa floundered.

She'd tried going to college to train as a teacher but dropped out after a year. She jumped from job to job, never quite finding her place. And all the while, her brother's star continued to rise.

The only constant in her life had been her crush on her brother’s best friend, Cassius White. She'd fallen for him the moment Aleksander brought him home, all golden hair andpiercing blue eyes. But Cassius had never seen her as anything more than his best friend's little sister.

Alysa's fingers traced the curves of her body, resting on the soft swell of her stomach.

No wonder he's never looked twice at you.

She'd always been curvy, but lately, it felt like her body was betraying her. No matter how much she worked out or dieted, she couldn't seem to shed the extra pounds.

You're not good enough for him, a traitorous voice whispered.

You're not good enough for anyone.

Alysa's phone buzzed, jarring her from her spiral of self-pity. Aleksander's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey, Bro," she answered, forcing cheer into her voice despite her mood.

"Lysa? What's wrong?" Damn her brother's intuition.

"Nothing's wrong. Why would you think something's wrong?"

"Because it's Saturday night, and you're answering your phone instead of working."

Alysa's façade crumbled. "I got fired," she whispered.

Silence stretched between them for a long moment, a heavy weight pressing down. Then, "I'm coming over."

"Alek, you don't have to—”

"I'll be there in ten."

True to his word, Aleksander arrived exactly ten minutes later, a six-pack of beer in hand. He took one look at Alysa'stear-stained face and pulled her into a hug. His strength was a comforting presence, grounding her in the midst of her turmoil.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, cracking open two beers and handing one to her.

Alysa took a long swig before answering. "There's not much to tell. I fucked up again. Story of my life."

Alysa took a long swig of beer, her head spinning from the events of the night. "I can't keep doing this, Alek. I’m tired of feeling like a failure."

Aleksander leaned back in the chair, his gaze soft but piercing. "You’re not a failure, Lysa. You’ve just hit some rough patches, that’s all."

"Rough patches? I’ve been stumbling over rough patches my entire life. College, jobs. It’s like everything I touch falls apart."

He frowned, leaning forward. "I know it feels that way now, but you’re stronger than you think. You just haven’t found your place yet."

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