His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 133

**Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Claire’s POV**

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as we approached the school, Elijah and I walking side by side. He had insisted on arriving early, citing potential traffic as his reason, but I knew the truth. It was all about keeping an eye on me, ensuring that no one dared to come too close.

I won’t deny it—my wolf and I thrived on the attention. It was a craving I had long felt, a hunger for acknowledgment that had only intensified despite my fragmented memories. All I could recall was that moment, that electrifying kiss with Elijah, which seemed both thrilling and infuriatingly elusive.

Damn it. This wasn’t the time for those thoughts.

As we stepped through the school doors, the atmosphere was charged. We didn’t touch, but we were close enough that anyone who dared to intrude would think twice. Eyes were drawn to us like moths to a flame. Some students whispered behind their hands, while others pretended to be engrossed in their conversations, yet couldn’t help but steal glances our way. It felt like a strange return to normalcy, one that was both comforting and unsettling.

Then, like a storm cloud appearing on a sunny day, Jessica materialized in front of me. Her demeanor was a curious mix of gloom and a hint of happiness, which only added to the tension.

With a determined stride, she approached, her shoulders squared, her voice surprisingly steady. “Claire,” she began, halting right in front of me. “I… made something for you.”

Elijah’s body tensed instantly, his jaw clenching as he shot her a look that could have sent anyone else running. It was the kind of protective instinct that made my heart race—both in admiration and annoyance.

I reached out, lightly touching his sleeve, just enough to calm him down. “It’s okay,” I murmured, hoping to diffuse the situation.

Jessica swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the notebook she held out. “Before you say anything, just listen. Please.”

I took the notebook slowly, curiosity piqued. “What is this?”

“It’s for your memory journaling,” she explained, her voice softening. “You mentioned to the counselor that you sometimes write things down to help remember details. I thought… maybe this could help. I decorated the pages. Don’t laugh.”

I opened it gingerly, revealing pages adorned with whimsical doodles—tiny stars, delicate tea cups, playful wolves, and cheerful clovers. They were simple yet heartfelt touches, the kind of detail that suggested she genuinely cared.

Elijah leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. “You don’t have to accept that,” he cautioned.

“I know,” I replied softly, then turned to Jessica, my voice more resolute. “Thank you, Jessica. It’s really pretty.”

The relief on her face was palpable, almost enough to make me take a step back. “I just wanted to show you that I’m not… the same as before. I know trust takes time. I’m not asking for anything—just letting you know I’m trying.”

“Trying is good,” I said, offering a small smile. “Trying is a start.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected such a response. “Really?”

“Really,” I affirmed, feeling a flicker of hope.

Then, she smiled—a crooked, awkward smile that seemed misplaced on her usually polished expression. Elijah, however, remained stoic, his gaze still fixed on her like she was a puzzle with sharp edges.

As she walked away, Elijah exhaled sharply, tension radiating from him. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Just don’t growl at her.”

“I didn’t growl.”

“You growled internally. I could hear it.”

He shot me a sideways glance, a hint of amusement dancing at the corner of his mouth. “Little miss I-know-it-all.”

Ignoring his teasing, we made our way to first period, the hallways buzzing with the morning’s cacophony—laughter, chatter, the slamming of lockers, and teachers shouting out last-minute reminders. The noise was enough to drown out any lingering thoughts, yet Elijah’s presence was like a beacon, his energy radiating as he moved through the crowd.

Halfway to class, he suddenly halted. “Wait here.”

“Why?” I asked, puzzled.

He scanned the hallway as if he had heard something I couldn’t. “Just a second.”

With purpose, he walked toward a group of guys from the hockey team. Their eager expressions told me they had missed him, but Elijah didn’t appear relaxed. His posture was tense, shoulders squared, and his voice low enough that I couldn’t catch a single word.

They nodded at whatever he said, some looking shocked, others uneasy.

When he returned, the tension in his face eased. “Sorry. They needed to know about practice today.”

“You said three sentences,” I remarked. “They looked terrified.”

“They’re dramatic,” he replied with a smirk. “Come on.”

By lunchtime, Jessica approached again—but this time, she didn’t come directly to me. She lingered at the edge of our table, as if steeling herself for a leap.

“Can I sit?” she asked, her tone cautious.

I glanced up from my tray. “Sit.”

Elijah froze mid-bite, his eyes fixed on her as if she had just requested to borrow my heart. I could sense how unusual this was for him.

Jessica took a seat across from me, her hands tightly clasped in her lap, as though afraid to touch anything that belonged to me. “Um… I just wanted to check in on how your classes have been. I don’t want to be weird about it. I’m just… checking in.”

Elijah snorted softly under his breath. I shot him a warning kick beneath the table.

“They’ve been fine,” I replied. “Nothing too stressful.”

“That’s good,” she nodded, her words carefully chosen. “Everyone is talking about Elijah being back in practice. I think people missed him.”

Elijah shot her a flat look. “You don’t have to talk like that.”

“Like what?” she blinked, taken aback.

“Like every sentence is a minefield and we’re the ones stepping on it. You’re trying too hard.”

“Well,” she whispered, “it feels like one.”

I sighed, trying to ease the tension. “Jessica, relax. You’re not going to explode if you sit here.”

She exhaled shakily, visibly releasing some of her tension. “Okay. I’m trying.”

“I can see that.”

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