**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**
Claire’s POV
As dawn broke, I stepped into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee and fresh toast enveloping me like a warm embrace. My mother was already in full swing, her hands deftly arranging plates with the precision of a seasoned artist, while a soft melody escaped her lips—a tune I couldn’t quite place but felt comforted by nonetheless. The maids moved around her with the grace of a well-oiled machine, slicing fruits and neatly laying out silverware, their movements synchronized in a dance of domesticity. Everything felt so normal, almost painfully so, yet there was an undercurrent of tension that I couldn’t shake.
“Good morning, Claire,” my mother greeted, glancing up from her task of buttering toast, her smile radiant and inviting. “Did you sleep well, or are your dreams still haunted by the palace and your alpha brother over there?”
I froze mid-motion, my spoon hovering above my bowl, a small chuckle escaping my lips as I attempted to deflect the weight of her words. “I slept better than I anticipated. Elijah’s… fine. He managed to rest last night.” I chose my words carefully, knowing that delving into the turmoil of court politics, moon sickness, or the chaos surrounding Naomi would only burden her with unnecessary worry.
Elijah had indeed been recovering well, his resilience a source of quiet strength amidst the storm.
My mother raised an eyebrow, her perceptive nature never failing to catch the subtleties of our lives. “You both look like you could use a longer night’s rest. And what about hockey? Remember, you were supposed to contact your coach?”
I nearly choked on my toast, realization hitting me like a cold splash of water. Elijah had completely forgotten about it. Of course, he had.
I glanced at him, seated across the table, his dark hair still slightly damp from the quick shower he’d insisted on before breakfast. He shrugged, a sheepish gesture that sent a flutter through my chest, quickening my pulse.
“I… I’ll email him today,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with embarrassment. “I didn’t even realize how much time has passed. We’ll head to school afterward.”
My mother shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes as she glanced between us. “You really need to get back on that ice before your coach sends out a search party for you.”
Elijah smirked faintly, and in that fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of the mischief that had endured through the storms of the past few weeks. My heart tightened, a familiar tug that was both comforting and maddening all at once.
Arriving at school, the atmosphere was deceptively quiet, or at least as quiet as a high school could be for someone like Elijah.
Whispers trailed behind us as we walked down the hall, students glancing our way, their heads turning just enough to murmur among themselves. Rumors swirled about the moon-sick alpha, the attack, and the mysterious absence of the girl who had caused such chaos—each word a wisp of smoke threading through the corridors, lingering in the air like an uninvited guest.
Jessica—at least that was the name I recalled—was the first to approach me. She walked toward me slowly, cautiously, as if she knew that a single misstep could send me into a defensive posture.
Despite having anticipated the possibility of this encounter, my stomach twisted into knots as she closed the distance.
“Claire, welcome back,” she greeted softly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “I know I hurt you before, and I can’t take that back, but I genuinely want to start over. Can we… can we try to be friends?”
I tilted my head, scrutinizing her with careful consideration. Elijah’s dark eyes flicked toward her from across the hall, tension radiating from him like an electric current. Protective. Always protective. My jaw tightened instinctively.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, allowing my voice to carry a hint of curiosity, keeping the door to conversation slightly ajar. “It’s still strange to me, but… I’m willing to give it a chance. Actions speak louder than words, Jessica. Prove it.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but the slight tightening of his jaw spoke volumes. My wolf stirred slightly at the unspoken protective energy emanating from him, and I had to remind myself to stay composed in a room full of people who couldn’t possibly understand the depth of our bond, even if I struggled to define it myself.
After lunch, hockey practice beckoned. Elijah’s return to the ice was nothing short of mesmerizing—smooth, precise, and powerful. Each movement was deliberate, controlled, a display that left students murmuring in admiration and envy alike.
I watched from the sidelines, my heart clenching each time a teammate came too close or when a girl attempted to catch his attention. My wolf twitched with possessiveness, but I remained seated, reminding myself that watching didn’t mean interfering.
Jessica reappeared at the edge of the rink, quietly taking notes and observing the practice. I noticed Elijah’s eyes flicker briefly toward her, irritation flashing across his face like lightning in a storm.
As practice concluded, the coach clapped Elijah on the shoulder, showering him with praise for his control and skill. I approached him, brushing damp hair from his forehead without thinking, the gesture feeling as natural as breathing.
The moment made him glance at me, and I caught the almost imperceptible flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You were impressive out there, especially for someone who’s been off the ice for so long,” I remarked quietly, my voice warm enough to make him shift slightly under the praise.
“You think so?” he murmured, his tone low, teasing with that same dry humor he often employed to mask deeper feelings.
“I know so,” I replied, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “And don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

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