His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 159

**TITLE: Betrayal Births**

**Chapter 159**

**Claire’s POV**

Elijah’s voice sliced through the atmosphere of the room, a sudden intrusion that felt as jarring as if someone had flung open a door at the most inopportune moment. The effect was immediate and electric.

Every single one of us turned to face him, startled. Jessica, who had been skillfully twirling a paintbrush, nearly let it slip from her fingers, while I jerked so violently that my stool screeched against the floor, a loud protest that echoed my surprise.

He stood framed in the doorway, his gaze flitting from Jessica’s flushed cheeks, a vivid red that could rival the paint on her palette, to the assortment of chocolates adorning the table, and finally landing on me. His eyebrows arched slowly, a curious expression that only served to heighten the tension in the air.

Clearing my throat, I struggled to regain my composure and forced my voice to sound casual. “Nobody. Nothing. Just talking.”

Jessica, still blushing fiercely, nodded with an urgency that was almost comical, her hair falling over her face like a curtain trying to shield her from the spotlight.

Elijah stepped further into the room, his presence commanding. “You two looked very deep in gist when I walked in. Should I be worried?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Jessica managed to whisper, her embarrassment palpable, as if a spotlight had been turned on just for her.

I shot him a glare, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re making her uncomfortable. Just stop.”

He feigned innocence, that familiar look creeping onto his face, the one he always wore when he pretended to be utterly oblivious. “I’m merely asking a harmless question.”

Jessica, clearly overwhelmed, pushed her stool back with a decisive scrape and stood. “I’ll just take this to the supplies cabinet,” she said, picking up the bowl of chocolates as if it were a heavy weight. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, she practically fled the room, her retreat a mix of urgency and embarrassment.

I folded my arms, irritation simmering within me. “You did that on purpose.”

Elijah shrugged nonchalantly. “You started whispering the moment I walked in. It looked suspicious.”

“It was girl stuff,” I retorted, my voice sharper than I intended. “You know, normal human gossip. Nothing that concerns wolves with too many questions.”

His eyes narrowed playfully, that teasing glint evident as he leaned into the banter. “Girl stuff like gist about the boy who kissed her?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “How did you hear that?”

“You think my hearing stops working when I walk through a door?” He chuckled lightly, though the intensity in his gaze remained unwavering, as if he could read my thoughts.

Exhaling slowly, I sank back onto my stool, feeling the weight of the moment. “Fine. Yes. It was about him. Jessica’s boyfriend. She’s been hiding him from us like he’s some sort of secret government file.”

“She’s shy,” Elijah replied, a hint of understanding in his voice. “Not everyone can talk about their relationships as loudly as you do.”

My head snapped up in indignation. “I do not talk loudly.”

“You’re talking loudly now.”

We locked eyes, the tension between us thick and electric. For a fleeting moment, I considered whether to strike him with my paintbrush or simply walk out in exasperation. Instead, I pressed my lips together, averting my gaze.

He moved closer, leaning slightly over my shoulder to inspect the half-finished sketch in my notebook. “You used lighter shading this time. It looks softer.”

His voice was low and soothing, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. I could feel his warmth radiating from just behind me, not touching, but present in a way that filled the room with an undeniable energy.

“You like it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he affirmed, his tone steady and sincere. “It suits you.”

I couldn’t quite place why that simple compliment sent a rush of warmth through me. Perhaps it was the way he delivered it, as if it were an undeniable truth rather than just an opinion. Or maybe it was because of the morning we had shared, a moment charged with intensity that had been so abruptly interrupted by the embarrassing growl of my stomach.

A wave of heat washed over my face at the memory. Elijah had laughed so hard he nearly toppled off the bed, while I had clutched my pillow, threatening to smother myself in embarrassment.

Now, he looked at me with a small smile, one that suggested he was reliving that moment too.

Just then, the instructor called for attention, breaking the spell. I quickly turned to face the front, eager to distract myself from the lingering tension. The room settled down as he began to circulate with a stack of papers, his presence commanding our focus.

He reiterated the details of the upcoming exhibition, delving deeper into the themes he envisioned and what he expected from each of us.

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