His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 111

**Betrayal Births – Chapter 111**

**Claire’s POV**

Strolling alongside Elijah felt oddly familiar, a sense of normalcy weaving through the air, even though each step I took was a stark reminder that he shouldn’t have been out of bed at all. The morning air was crisp, sharp enough to send cool fingers dancing across my skin, sharpening my senses and making everything around us feel more vivid than it had any right to be. He moved with a deliberate pace, a subtle limp in his stride that was only noticeable if one looked closely—something I did constantly, my eyes flicking toward him as if they were magnetically drawn to his every breath.

“I still think you shouldn’t be walking this much,” I said, my hands tucked snugly inside the sleeves of my sweater, as if the fabric could shield me from the worry gnawing at my insides. “Your body just went through hell.”

Elijah turned his head slightly, amusement flickering across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I’m an alpha, Claire. Hell and healing are practically siblings we grew up with.”

“That doesn’t mean you should act like nothing happened last night,” I nudged him gently with my elbow, a playful gesture masking the seriousness of my concern. “You literally almost died.”

He let out a low hum, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And here I thought you came this morning solely to admire my recovery.”

I rolled my eyes, though a small part of me wished I could erase the vivid memory of his blood soaking my hands, the horrifying shade of it, and the way his wolf had fluctuated between consciousness and oblivion. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer resilient,” he countered, his tone light yet defiant.

“You prefer stubborn,” I shot back, a smile creeping onto my face despite the heaviness in my heart.

With a playful bump of his shoulder against mine, we resumed our walk toward the palace. The grand structure loomed ahead, becoming clearer with each step, sunlight glinting off the stone in soft golden patches. The serenity of the morning felt like a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed everyone just hours earlier.

“So,” Elijah began, stretching his arms slightly as we walked, “what do you think the punishment should be for someone who goes around stabbing an alpha? Asking for… personal curiosity.”

I scoffed at his dramatics, but I recognized the seriousness lurking beneath his words. “Well, pack law states that any attack on an alpha is a direct strike on the pack. Typically, the consequences are severe. It could mean exile or imprisonment, depending on the intent.”

“So if someone stabs me—an undeniably valuable asset to the community, might I add—”

“You’re unbearable,” I interrupted, unable to suppress a grin.

“They should at least get a few decades in a cold cell,” he concluded smugly.

I shook my head, amusement flickering in my chest. “Let the council decide that, Your Highness.”

He made a noise that was suspiciously close to a playful growl, and I felt a rush of heat stir low in my stomach. My wolf perked up, alert and intrigued, far too eager for someone who was supposed to be my stepbrother. I mentally shoved her aside, determined to keep things from becoming more awkward than they already were.

Just as we rounded the corner, Ethan emerged from the path leading down from the palace. His brows were furrowed, tension etched across his face until he caught sight of us—then irritation swiftly replaced his earlier worry.

“Why are you not in bed?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Elijah.

Elijah didn’t even flinch at the reprimand. “Because I’m wounded, not terminal. My body is healing rapidly.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be wandering around like a tourist,” Ethan snapped back, his voice sharp. “You had a blade inside you, Elijah. A deep one.”

“And I lived,” Elijah replied with a casual shrug, his chin tilted defiantly. “You don’t have to hover.”

“I don’t hover.”

“You’re literally hovering right now.”

Before Ethan could retort, my mom joined us, stepping into view with that unique blend of authority and warmth that made her presence instantly comforting. “Both of you, stop it,” she commanded, a small smile tugging at her lips as if she found their bickering mildly ridiculous. “At least wait until Elijah is fully healed before you start arguing like this.”

“Tell us,” I urged in a whisper, my heart aching for his plight.

A broken exhale escaped him, and then he whispered, “Theo. That’s his name.”

The name landed heavily in the air, a brick dropped in the center of our gathering.

“Theo? Who the hell is Theo?” Elijah barked, his frustration palpable.

The man flinched again, and I shot Elijah a warning look before returning my gaze to the trembling figure before us, encouraging him to continue.

“He approached me one evening while I was doing routine repairs at the factory just across from the market. He claimed he had a good job for me, and that I would be paid handsomely. I didn’t realize it would be about the gala until that night.”

Silence enveloped us as he spoke, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. His wolf was frightened and weak, and it made mine whimper with sympathy.

“Do you know what he looks like?” I asked once he finished.

He nodded vigorously, providing us with an address, a physical description, everything we needed. Once the words began to flow, it was as if the dam holding him together had cracked. He fell to his knees, tears pooling in his eyes.

“He threatened my family,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking. “I only tampered with the electricity. I swear I didn’t know there would be an attack. Please… please don’t let him hurt them.”

Elijah exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched with lingering anger, but I could see that disbelief was absent from his expression. Ethan stepped forward, his posture straightening with a newfound determination.

“Mobilize the guards,” he ordered the officers, his voice hardening with authority. “Find this Theo before he slips away.”