His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 18

**Betrayal Births by Joseph King**
**Chapter 18**

**Claire’s POV**

As the sun rose on Monday morning, I could feel the weight of the note I had unwittingly unleashed into the world. It had traveled far beyond the simple ink from Naomi’s glitter pen, and now it was a living thing, breathing and whispering through the halls of my school.

The moment I stepped into the building, it was as if the air shifted. I was met with a barrage of stares, sly smirks, and the muffled giggles that cut off abruptly as I walked by, a silent acknowledgment of my humiliation.

How had I let Naomi talk me into this? I felt a wave of regret wash over me, thick and suffocating. The thought nagged at me: had anyone actually seen me slip that note into Elijah’s locker? Or was he truly so petty that he would parade my secret crush around the school like a trophy?

“Fire and ice,” a voice chimed from behind me, laughter bubbling up like a cruel fountain. “Burns the whole rink.”

The laughter erupted, sharp and merciless, slicing through my already frayed nerves.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment, a heat that spread all the way to my ears. I hastily shoved my books into my bag and slammed my locker shut with a resounding clang that echoed through the hallway, louder than I intended.

As if on cue, Naomi bounced up beside me, her usual bubbly self, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside me. “Morning, Claire! Did you see him at practice yesterday? He was unstoppable! I swear, these notes are going to bring out his soft side. Just you wait and see!”

“Naomi…” I gritted my teeth, lowering my voice to a near whisper. “People know about the note. They’re quoting it. Someone must have seen him with it.”

She tilted her head, her brow furrowing as if I were the one overreacting. “So what? That just means it’s working. It’s a sign!”

Working? I thought bitterly. It was easy for her to say, sitting on the sidelines while I was the one Elijah had cornered in the hallway, his voice cold and cutting like a knife against my throat.

I adjusted my bag, pulling it higher on my shoulder, as if it could shield me from the scrutiny. “It’s not funny, Naomi.”

But she was already drifting toward the cafeteria, her phone out, probably plotting her next grand romantic gesture.

By the time third period rolled around, the whispers had sharpened into pointed jabs.

Jessica and her entourage sauntered past my desk in history, their fake giggles loud enough to slice through the silence of the classroom. “Maybe someone thinks she’s his little puck bunny,” Jessica said, her voice dripping with disdain.

My pen slipped from my fingers, the ink blotting across my notes in a chaotic splash. The teacher remained oblivious, as usual.

I hunched lower in my seat, wishing I could just dissolve into the floor beneath me. This was spiraling out of control, and I was losing my grip on it all.

Lunchtime proved to be even worse.

The cafeteria buzzed with an energy that felt overwhelming, trays clattering, voices overlapping in a cacophony of noise. I had barely stepped inside when a folded piece of paper struck my chest. Reflexively, I caught it, glancing down at the bold, mocking letters that read:

**HOT FOR HOCKEY**

Laughter erupted from a nearby table, and there was Jessica again, smirking with her clique, their eyes glinting with malice.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Naomi swooped in, snatching the paper from my hand as if it were a mere nuisance. “Ignore them,” she said dismissively, crumpling it like it was nothing. “They’re just jealous, that’s all.”

“Jealous?” I whispered, my voice sharp with frustration. “Naomi, they think it’s me!”

She rolled her eyes, unfazed. “So what? At least you’re on their radar now. That’s a win!”

I wanted to scream, to shake her and make her understand. Elijah already despised me; every rumor felt like another match tossed onto a fire I couldn’t extinguish. But the words stuck in my throat, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, I discarded my untouched tray into the bin and stormed out. I had to confront Elijah, but the thought of facing him made my stomach churn.

The library was a sanctuary of quiet, a welcome relief from the chaos.

I was exhausted.

“When will you realize that no one actually gives a damn about you? No one cares! Why do you make everything about you until you lose all sense of conscience?” My voice trembled with pent-up frustration, my blood boiling as I spoke.

My head spun, but the adrenaline coursing through me allowed me to read his expression.

And he looked stunned.

His eyes widened for a brief moment, but to my surprise, he didn’t respond. He simply gritted his teeth, and then he was gone, leaving me reeling in the wake of our confrontation.

The rest of the day blurred into a haze of static noise and muffled whispers.

By the time I climbed into the SUV after school, I felt utterly drained, my emotions tangled and raw.

My mind drifted back to my last encounter with Naomi before she headed home, her excitement palpable as she buzzed with plans, already drafting her next romantic scheme in her notes app.

“You’ll see,” she had promised, her eyes sparkling with conviction. “Once he realizes someone out there really sees him, he’ll melt. And when he does, Claire, it will change everything.”

I didn’t respond.

Because deep down, I wasn’t sure who would burn first—him or me.

That evening, the mansion felt colder than usual, as if the walls themselves were closing in on me.

Dinner was a silent affair, broken only by the soft clatter of dishes from Maria. Ethan spoke briefly about pack council business, his words floating into the air like lost thoughts; Mom nodded along, her smiles too bright, too forced to be genuine. Elijah sat at the table, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze flickering toward me once, sharp enough to cut through the tension.

I didn’t like the atmosphere; it was thick with unspoken words and hidden agendas. What was he planning to do to me?