**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**
**Chapter 158**
**Claire’s POV**
Time seemed to stand still as he shifted, pulling me back against his chest with a gentle but firm motion. My cheek nestled against the rhythm of his heartbeat, a steady reminder of his presence. I could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his chin rested lightly atop my head, creating a cocoon of intimacy that enveloped us both.
In that moment, I felt completely still, not trapped in an uncomfortable way, but rather held in a sense of safety that made my entire being feel warm, grounded, and yet, a little shaky all at once. It was a paradox of emotions, and I savored it.
He embraced me without a hint of reluctance, as if this was a long-awaited moment he had yearned for long before dawn broke this morning.
I wasn’t quite sure what expression graced my face, but I sensed it must have been soft and vulnerable because he lowered his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine.
“You were shaking again,” he murmured, his voice quiet and tinged with concern. “Even in your sleep.”
I blinked up at him, surprised. “I was?”
He nodded, his expression serious yet gentle.
Heat crept up my cheeks, a blush igniting within me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he replied, his tone soothing. “It was a nightmare. Anyone would react like that.”
I shifted slightly, the moment feeling both intimate and charged. “You could have gone back to your room, you know.”
“No,” he stated simply, the weight of that one word wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
Something inside me melted at his refusal, a softening of my heart that I couldn’t quite explain.
I hesitated, a thousand questions swirling in my mind, emotions bubbling beneath the surface, but I couldn’t find the courage to voice them just yet. “Did you sleep at all?” I finally asked, curiosity lacing my tone.
“Some,” he admitted, a hint of weariness in his voice. “I stayed up for a while. You kept moving, and I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
I studied him for a long moment, my heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many feelings that had been quietly building between us, but I wasn’t ready to lay them bare.
Yet, the warmth in my chest lingered, a comforting reminder of our connection.
“Elijah,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, “thank you.”
He brushed his thumb over the back of my hand, a simple gesture that sent shivers down my spine. “You don’t actually have to thank me.”
“But I do.”
Our eyes locked once more, and for a fleeting moment, the world around us faded into nothingness. The air between us felt charged, thick with an unspoken understanding. I noticed his gaze flicker to my lips for just a heartbeat, and it felt like a spark igniting a fire within me.
Before I could fully process the moment, he pulled me a little closer, the movement deliberate and slow, as if he were afraid to break the fragile spell between us. My heart raced, pounding loudly in my chest, and I could feel my breath hitch in my throat.
Then, in the midst of our shared silence, my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl, echoing embarrassingly in the intimate space we occupied.
I froze, and he froze, our eyes widening in shock, and just like that, the tension shattered into laughter.
I groaned softly, burying my face in my hands. “Oh no. That was… mortifying.”


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