His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 116

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King 116**
**CONTENT: Chapter 116**

**Claire’s POV**

For a fleeting moment, the very act of breathing seemed to escape me entirely.

The sound of the knock reverberated softly through my room, lingering in the air like a ghost before Elijah’s hand pressed firmly over my mouth. His palm was warm, the center calloused, carrying a faint scent of pine mixed with something darker—something that had been haunting him for days.

My wolf was the first to freeze, caught in a tumultuous mix of exhilaration and a fierce, startled panic. My body followed suit, going rigid in his hold, as if I were a deer caught in headlights.

Leaning in closer, his voice brushed my ear like a feather.

“Claire,” he murmured, his tone a low, controlled rasp that sent shivers down my spine. “Calm down. I’ve got you.”

The absurdity of the situation struck me; he sounded far more composed than I felt. My heart thudded violently against my ribs, as if trying to claw its way out, and I could sense Elijah’s awareness of my shaky breaths. He softened his grip, his thumb tracing a gentle line against my cheekbone, as if he were afraid of breaking me.

Another knock shattered the fragile silence.

“Claire? Are you in there?”

I could hardly believe it was happening. Slowly—so slowly—I felt Elijah’s storm-blue eyes lock onto mine, steady yet shadowed with unspoken words. He withdrew his hand, letting it fall to his side, taking a careful step back, as if he were unsure whether I might shatter into a million pieces. He nodded toward the door.

“I’ll stay out of sight,” he whispered. Without waiting for a response, he slipped into my bathroom, closing the door with a grace that belied the urgency of the moment.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hair down in a futile attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy. I forced myself to breathe steadily before calling out, “Yeah, I’m here—just woke up. One second!”

As I cracked the door open just enough to peek outside, I saw one of the guards standing there, his expression flustered and breathless.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice tinged with concern. “The Alpha isn’t in his room. We thought he might have come looking for you.”

I tightened my grip on the door, praying my voice wouldn’t betray the chaos swirling inside me.

“Elijah? No, no, I haven’t seen him this morning. He probably went for an early run to clear his head.” I forced a small, weary smile. “You know how he gets.”

The guard nodded, relief washing over his features. “Right. Of course. Sorry again.”

“No problem,” I murmured, closing the door with a quiet click.

As soon as the latch clicked into place, I sagged against it, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My wolf let out a sharp, trembling exhale, pacing behind my ribs like a caged animal. I pressed a hand to my chest, hoping it would somehow calm her, but that was wishful thinking.

The bathroom door creaked open.

Elijah emerged like a specter stepping from a shadowy realm—quiet, self-assured, yet undeniably present. And gods help me, the atmosphere shifted palpably the moment he entered the room, feeling both heavier and lighter simultaneously.

He didn’t speak right away; we simply gazed at each other, the silence thick with unspoken emotions. My pulse raced, still stuttering from the shock of waking up in his embrace. His hair was tousled from sleep, a soft wave falling over his forehead.

His shirt bore the wrinkles of our shared night, a testament to the intimacy we had unknowingly forged. And his eyes—his eyes looked warmer than they had all week, clearer, as if the storm inside him had finally begun to calm.

But I couldn’t quite discern whether that warmth was due to me or the letter that burned a shape through his pocket.

When I finally found my voice, it came out embarrassingly thin.

“You scared me.”

A flicker of amusement danced across his lips, the closest thing to a smile I had seen from him since Theo’s attack. “You’re the one who jumped on me last night, remember?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Elijah—”

He stepped closer, catching my wrist before I could retreat. His fingers wrapped around me gently but firmly, as if he had spent hours contemplating how to touch someone without causing pain.

I didn’t expect the warmth that surged through my skin, nor how quickly my wolf became hazy, pressing affection against my senses so insistently that I almost swayed on my feet.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice a mere whisper.

Not for the cover story.

Not for pretending that nothing had happened.

But for the letter.

I felt it in the softness of his tone, in the way he studied my face as if trying to piece together something fragile and unfamiliar. He didn’t mention the words I had penned, nor did he bring up how he had stood in my room, holding them like a lifeline. But he didn’t need to.

“You helped more than you know.” His thumb brushed lightly over the inside of my wrist, and my breath hitched in my throat. “And I’m sorry I pulled you into my mess.”

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