His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 23

**Betrayal Births by Joseph King – Chapter 23**

**Claire**

I stood there, utterly motionless, my gaze locked onto the hand that was firmly clasped around mine.

It was warm, its touch radiating a heat that seemed to seep into my very bones. Lean, sculpted muscles defined the fingers that encircled my hand, prominent veins snaking their way up his arm and disappearing into the taut expanse of his chest. My heart plummeted as I dared to meet his eyes.

They were half-lidded yet ablaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, as if he had clawed his way back from the depths of unconsciousness just to ensure I understood the depth of his disdain for my presence.

“I—” My voice faltered, caught in my throat like a trapped bird. My pulse raced, a frantic rhythm against his grip. “Elijah, let go.”

Naomi sprang to her feet, her eyes wide with disbelief. She shot a quick glance at me, uncertainty flickering across her features as if she were trying to decipher the unfolding drama. “She was just— We came to check on you! That’s all!”

His gaze sliced toward her, then back to me, the heat of it curling my stomach into knots. “Don’t pretend like you give a damn.”

Those words hit me harder than I cared to admit, a sharp sting that resonated deep within.

I tugged at my hand, but his grip only tightened, fingers digging into my skin—not out of cruelty, but with a determination that felt almost possessive. “Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly. “Why are you here?”

“I told you.” I struggled to keep my voice steady, though inside, I was a tempest of emotions. “We came to see if you were okay. Nothing more.”

His lips twisted into a sardonic smile, a grimace that spoke volumes. “You sure you weren’t looking to steal something of mine? My unconscious state must have been a perfect cover for you.”

Anger surged through me, hot and bubbling, igniting a fire I struggled to contain.

Naomi shot me a helpless look, then leaned forward, her voice trembling with concern. “Elijah, please. You’re hurt. You need to rest.”

His gaze flickered to her, devoid of softness, yet the contempt was less pronounced than when he turned back to me.

“Get out. I can’t believe those nurses let you in here without permission. You’re nothing but a lowlife,” he spat.

The words struck me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Naomi gasped, her shock mirroring my own. “What?”

“You heard me.” His jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his face taut with anger. “Both of you. Get out.”

An oppressive silence enveloped us, thick and suffocating. My chest ached, my heart racing dangerously fast.

I took several deep breaths, desperately trying to regain my composure.

Finally, I managed to slip my hand free, his fingers loosening as if he suddenly realized the weight of his actions.

“Fine,” I whispered, my throat raw with emotion. “Come on, Naomi.”

Naomi hesitated, her eyes darting between us as if searching for some unspoken resolution. But I couldn’t endure another moment under his steely glare, so I turned and walked out.

The hallway beyond felt like a cold, empty void.

I leaned against the wall, inhaling shallow breaths, willing my racing heart to slow. Naomi followed closely behind, her hands wringing together in anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why would he… why would he act like that? He’s injured. He should be grateful we came.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, laced with frustration. “That’s Elijah for you. Gratefulness isn’t in his vocabulary.”

“But—” Her expression crumpled, confusion etched across her features. “Claire, he—he grabbed your hand. It was like he chose you. Not me. I was the one trying to talk to him.”

The unexpected sting of her words cut deeper than I expected. It wasn’t confusion I felt, but a sharp pang that echoed with jealousy.

“He hates me, Naomi. I’ve told you this countless times,” I hissed, my body weary from the emotional turmoil. I didn’t want him to choose me. I didn’t want any part of him.

Yet, even as I spoke, my palm tingled where his hand had been, a betraying reminder of our connection. I shoved my hand into my pocket, ashamed of the way my body reacted against my will.

Naomi continued to stare at me, her expression a mixture of concern and disbelief.

“Don’t read into it,” I said firmly, my tone flat. “He just wanted to remind us how much he despises me.”

She frowned, yet chose not to argue further.

As we stepped back into the waiting area, Mom shot up from her seat, her face a mask of worry. Ethan sat beside her, calm and steady, his hand resting reassuringly on her arm.

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