His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 165

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Chapter 165**

**Claire’s POV**

“Yes?” I responded, my voice gentle yet resolute. Elijah stood at the top of the staircase, his piercing blue eyes fixed on me with a calmness that felt almost unsettling, as if he could decipher my thoughts before I had fully formed them in my mind.

He arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. “You’re tense.”

“I’m not,” I retorted hastily, but even as I spoke, I felt the tension coiling within me like a spring ready to snap. Of course I was tense—he was near, and it seemed he could read every unspoken word swirling in the air between us.

“That’s amusing,” he replied, his voice low and teasing, yet there was an edge to it, a seriousness lurking beneath the surface. “Your wolf seems to think otherwise.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words evaporated in the charged atmosphere. His presence was like a magnet, drawing my focus, rendering everything else around us—the mundane world bustling with life—insignificant.

He leaned casually against the railing, one arm resting above his head, exuding an effortless confidence. “You believe you’re hiding it well, but I can see the subtle tension in your movements… the way you hold yourself. I notice these things. Always.”

With an eye roll, I crossed my arms defensively. “I can’t help it if I’m observant.”

“Convenient,” he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Makes it easier for me to… gauge things.”

The weight of that word hung in the air, ‘gauge,’ and I felt a shiver run down my spine, though he chose not to elaborate. Instead, he straightened up, running a hand through his tousled hair as he glanced toward the landing window. Moonlight spilled into the hallway, casting a silvery glow across the floor, creating a moment where time seemed to stand still, just for us.

“I just folded laundry,” I finally said, attempting to divert both his attention and my own racing thoughts. “It’s not like there’s anything to gauge.”

He chuckled softly, but the sound was laced with an underlying sharpness. “You think that mundane tasks can keep your wolf calm?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Sometimes,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Sometimes,” he echoed, his tone low and thoughtful. “Good. Keep your wolf close, Claire. You’ll need it tonight.”

I blinked, taken aback by his cryptic words. “Tonight?” I echoed, curiosity and apprehension mingling within me.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that our shoulders brushed against each other—an innocent gesture, unnoticed by anyone else in the house, yet it sparked a fire beneath my skin. “You’ll see,” he finally said, his voice a low murmur.

The air between us thickened, stretching with unspoken possibilities.

I fought the urge to look away, but my wolf was alert, sensing things my mind struggled to comprehend. It was aware of the subtle warmth radiating from him, the quiet weight of his presence beside me, and the slight shift in his posture that felt deliberate.

He leaned in slightly, his gaze scrutinizing me. “Do you ever wonder if you notice too much?”

“I notice what I need to,” I replied, striving for confidence. “And my wolf tells me when I don’t.”

He nodded, his blue eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Good answer. Clever, too. Just… don’t let your instincts run ahead of you.”

“I won’t,” I insisted, though my voice wavered, betraying the uncertainty that gnawed at me.

“You will,” he countered softly, his tone almost a whisper. “But that’s alright. I like that about you.”

My chest tightened—not merely from his words, but from the way he delivered them. Casual, almost indifferent, yet they were laden with something unspoken that sent my wolf into a state of restless approval or warning; I couldn’t quite tell which.

Suddenly, a loud clatter from downstairs—our parents clearing the table, the sounds of dinner coming to an end—pulled us back into the present moment. Elijah glanced toward the stairs before looking back at me. “We should probably…”

I nodded, turning toward the lounge. “Keep the wolf out of trouble?” I suggested with a faint smirk.

I wanted to respond, to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, but my words got tangled in the web of my thoughts. My wolf hummed with awareness, restless and teasing in its own enigmatic way.

He straightened, looking down at me with an intensity that made my heart race. “Dinner isn’t over yet. But afterward?”

I met his gaze, feeling a thrill of excitement. “Afterward?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the arm of the couch with an ease that belied the tension between us. “Afterward, perhaps we can do something… different. Relax. Enjoy the quiet. Just us. And our wolves.”

I swallowed hard, striving to mask the flutter of nerves and the sharp tug in my chest. “Maybe,” I said, my voice low and tentative. “We’ll see.”

He smirked slightly. “That’s all I ask.”

A moment of silence enveloped us, the house humming with the sounds of ordinary life—domestic, unbothered. Yet, within the space between us, a quiet storm brewed. Awareness. Anticipation. The unspoken tension of step-siblings who shared more than just a mundane existence, wolves attuned to a rhythm that only we could hear, noticing everything the other left unsaid.

I focused on the magazines, the cushions, and the faint creak of the floorboards beneath us, yet my mind couldn’t escape the lingering memory of his shoulder brushing against mine moments ago, the way he observed me without looking directly into my eyes, his amber gaze seeming to penetrate deeper than anyone else ever could.

Finally, he stepped back toward the hallway, breaking the spell. “I’ll leave you to the rest of the evening,” he said, his tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more profound.

I nodded, my wolf still alert, senses tingling with awareness. “Good.”

He paused, as if reconsidering his words, then added softly, almost as an afterthought, “Claire… one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Stay aware. You never know when the quiet will break.”