His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 2

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Chapter 2**

**Claire’s POV**

“Finally, we meet, Claire. I’m Ethan.”

His voice was a surprising mix of calm and maturity, a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. For a moment, I forgot about the chaos that had become my life.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my backpack slipping from my shoulder, the weight of it almost a comfort in this unsettling moment. Ethan wasn’t trying to intimidate me; there was no sneer on his lips. Instead, the Alpha-Ethan Daniels wore a faint smile, his gaze steady yet gentle, as if he understood the turmoil swirling within me.

“Your mother has shared so much about you,” he continued, his tone even and reassuring. “I’m really glad you’re here. I want you to know that I’ll take care of you.”

“Take care of me?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, an echo of my father’s voice that haunted me. Wasn’t that Dad’s role? Didn’t he used to whisper those very words as he kissed my forehead goodnight? “Don’t worry, Claire-bear. I’ll take care of you.”

Now, here stood this stranger, this man who exuded authority in every gesture, claiming the same promise. It felt as though he could simply waltz in and fill the gaping void my father had left behind.

I forced my face to remain neutral, swallowing back the bitter sting that threatened to betray my composure. Not rude… Mom would have my head for that. But certainly not friendly either.

“Thanks,” I muttered, shifting my weight uncomfortably.

His gaze lingered on me for a heartbeat longer, as if he were attempting to decipher the emotions roiling beneath my surface. Then, he nodded, a gesture of understanding. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Turning back to my mother, he offered her a reassuring smile, and I seized the chance to slip away.

Entering my room was like stepping into a foreign land. It was unrecognizable, a chaotic jumble of boxes and suitcases, my cherished posters stripped from the walls. Even my beloved books—my sanctuary—were already sealed away, hidden from sight.

Mom.

She had dismantled my entire life while I was at school, as if she believed that ripping off the Band-Aid would somehow lessen the pain. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, staring at the bare walls and the empty shelves that once held my dreams. A familiar ache settled in my chest, sharp and unyielding.

“Claire! We’re leaving!”

“Leaving…” Just like that. No time to wrestle with the decision, no sleepless nights to ponder what I was losing.

I turned to the mirror above my desk. My reflection blurred as tears began to spill down my cheeks. I wiped them away furiously, but more followed, as if they were determined to escape.

And just like that, I was saying goodbye. Goodbye to this room. Goodbye to my childhood. Goodbye to every book I had read here, every late-night laugh with Lily and June over video calls, every memory that still whispered of Dad.

And goodbye to that precious sliver of peace I had carved out for myself at school.

I pressed my palm against the glass, whispering, “Bye.” Then, with a heavy heart, I forced myself to stand.

Dragging my feet down the creaky stairs, each step felt like a weight added to my already burdened soul. But it wasn’t until I stepped outside that the full force of reality struck me.

Parked in front of our shabby little house was a line of cars that looked like they belonged in a blockbuster film. Sleek black SUVs and a gleaming sedan stood like sentinels. Men in dark suits loomed by the doors, their posture rigid and watchful, scanning the surroundings as if we were some kind of VIPs.

I froze on the porch, blinking in disbelief. This was for us?

Alpha Ethan stood near the first car, engaged in quiet conversation with one of the men. But when his eyes landed on me, he smiled again—not smugly, not insincerely, but with a warmth that made me feel, for a fleeting moment, like I might be safe.

And for a brief, foolish second, I thought maybe he wasn’t so bad. He could have sent drivers, assistants, guards. But instead, he came himself.

Not that it changed anything.

Mom’s gentle touch on my shoulder broke my reverie. “Come on, sweetheart.”

My chest tightened at the term. “Sweetheart.” That was Dad’s word too.

Sliding into the backseat, I clutched my backpack tightly against my chest. The leather seats smelled rich and expensive, but the air felt heavy, suffocating. I turned to gaze out the window, watching our little house shrink into the distance, time stretching painfully, each second amplifying the ache of goodbye.

The Silvercrest estate was nothing short of a palace.

Massive stone walls loomed, windows glittering like diamonds, gardens sprawling wider than my entire old neighborhood.

The marble floors gleamed so brilliantly that I half-expected someone to scold me for leaving footprints.

“This is your new home,” Alpha Ethan said as we walked through the grand entrance.

Home. The word felt foreign here, like a misplaced puzzle piece.

He guided us through the estate: a dining room vast enough to host a wedding, a library that sparked a deep longing within me, and a backyard that resembled a private park more than a mere garden.

When we reached the end of the tour, Ethan paused in the hallway. “One more thing, Claire. I have a son. He should be out with his friends right now, but when he gets back, I’ll officially introduce you. I think you two will get along.”

A son? My mother had never mentioned anything about a son. Now I was just supposed to magically get along with him?

I turned to Mom, seeking some explanation, a hint about who this boy even was. She merely flashed me a quick smile, assuring me he was a hockey player—and that I would surely love him.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify