His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 154

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King 154**

**Chapter 154**

**Claire’s POV**

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise dancing across his features, as if my quick response had caught him off guard. Jessica, observing the exchange with an amused glint in her eyes, shifted her gaze between us. She feigned concentration on the blue strokes she was meticulously adding to her own canvas, but I could tell she was thoroughly entertained by our little back-and-forth.

“What are you hiding?” Elijah inquired, his voice laced with a hint of playful mischief that always sent a flutter of annoyance through my stomach. It was a familiar sensation, one that I had grown to both dread and secretly enjoy.

“Nothing,” I replied, my tone firm. “Absolutely nothing. Just go away.”

He took a deliberate step closer, extending the chocolate bar in his hand like a peace offering, a gesture that felt almost comical in its earnestness. “If it’s nothing, then why are you guarding it like it’s a state secret?”

“Because it is mine,” I asserted, tightening my grip on the paper as if it were a shield. “Now, just stop.”

He crouched beside me, attempting to sneak a peek beneath my arm. Instinctively, I shifted, nearly toppling a cup of murky paint water in the process. Jessica let out a loud snort, her laughter echoing through the room, and Elijah’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the moment.

“You’re acting suspicious,” he declared, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Suspicious people hide things.”

“You’re being annoying,” I countered, my irritation bubbling to the surface. “Annoying people poke their noses into matters that don’t concern them.”

He raised the chocolate bar once more, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Truce?”

“No,” I shot back, a smile threatening to break through my facade.

Jessica leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand, her expression playful. “Just let him see it, Claire. He’s been staring at that paper like it holds the meaning of life.”

“It doesn’t,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “It’s barely even a painting.”

“That makes me want to see it even more,” Elijah chimed in, his tone far too pleased with himself for my liking.

“Too bad,” I retorted, shifting in my seat and pulling my chair back, ensuring the painting remained safely out of reach. Elijah narrowed his eyes in mock offense, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he sauntered over to the table behind us, placing the chocolate down with a flourish, before casting a glance at the art instructor across the room. Lowering his voice, he leaned closer.

“I only came to check on you,” he murmured, a hint of concern slipping into his tone. “I thought you might have run off again.”

“I did not run off,” I replied, my voice steady. “We were told to freestyle. This is how I freestyle.”

“By hiding the result?” he probed, raising an eyebrow.

“By protecting it,” I corrected, feeling a flicker of defensiveness rise within me.

Jessica chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You two are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, but a warmth spread through my chest. I knew exactly what she meant. Elijah had this uncanny ability to make the world feel just a little bit brighter without even trying. Even in moments of irritation, the comfort he brought simply by being near me was undeniable.

He pulled up a stool and settled down beside us, his arms resting casually across his chest. He didn’t attempt to peek again; instead, he simply sat there, exuding an air of relaxation, as if the art room had suddenly transformed into his favorite sanctuary.

“So,” Jessica said lightly, rinsing her brush with a practiced ease. “How are you feeling now? Better?”

“A little,” I admitted, a small smile creeping onto my lips. “The food helped. The nap helped. The embarrassment didn’t help, but I’m surviving.”

Elijah shot me a pointed look, as if to say he had been right all along, but I stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

Jessica stifled a laugh and returned to her painting, and the room fell into a pleasant quiet. Soft music floated from the speakers near the supply shelf, and the gentle scratching of brushes against paper created a soothing rhythm that settled the restlessness in my chest.

After a moment, I allowed myself to glance down at my own work again. The painting wasn’t particularly realistic, but that had never been my goal. I had simply let the colors flow, mirroring the chaotic emotions swirling in my mind.

The background was a delicate pale blue, seamlessly blended with a soft lavender hue that reminded me of the tranquil skies at dawn. In the center, a small silhouette of a wolf sat quietly, gazing upward at a round moon painted in warm silver tones. Tiny dots of white surrounded the moon like drifting petals, creating an ethereal atmosphere.

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