His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 28

### Betrayal Births by Joseph King
**Chapter 28**

**Claire’s POV**

Elijah’s piercing gaze seemed to hold me captive, his blue eyes as frigid as ice, cutting through the bustling noise of the cafeteria like a blade.

For a fleeting, almost irrational moment, I found myself wishing—no, hoping—that he would say something, anything. Perhaps he would tell Jessica to back off, or at the very least acknowledge the shove she had just delivered to me.

But instead, a chill smile crept across his face, a smirk devoid of warmth or empathy.

“Jessica’s right,” he stated, his voice low yet sharp enough to slice through the chatter surrounding us. Each word felt like a dagger aimed straight at my heart. “You don’t belong here.” The girls around him gasped, their laughter bubbling up like a pack of hyenas feasting on a fresh kill. Jessica’s face glowed with a triumphant glee, as if she had just won a grand prize.

I felt my lips part in disbelief, but my throat constricted painfully. My heart raced erratically, and I fought to keep my composure, to remain upright, even as I felt like I was disintegrating from within.

He didn’t stop there. He brushed past me, his shoulder colliding with mine, a mere flicker of contact that felt like a rejection so profound it almost knocked the breath from my lungs. I was nothing to him—just another student in his path.

Jessica’s laughter echoed in my ears, each peal clawing at my insides, a reminder of the humiliation I was enduring.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing larger, my nails digging into the edges of my books until they bit into my palms.

I should have screamed. I should have fought back with every ounce of strength I had. I should have told him he was a coward, that only yesterday he had kissed me, his wolf yearning for me as if I was the only thing in his world that mattered.

But I didn’t.

I stood there, paralyzed, drowning in the tidal wave of his cruelty.

If I spoke, I knew my voice would shatter, and I refused to give either him or Jessica that kind of satisfaction.

The hours that followed were a blur of faces and voices, the lessons slipping away from me like sand through my fingers.

I sat there, staring at my notes, but the words danced away, eluding my grasp. Every time I blinked, I was haunted by visions of Elijah’s eyes, the golden fire within them, the memory of his lips on mine, the warmth of his hand against my skin.

Then came the bitter reminder of his voice, echoing in the hallway as he dismissed me, siding with Jessica, repeating that I didn’t belong.

Tsk.

Inside me, my wolf whimpered softly, torn between the ache of his rejection and the lingering warmth of last night’s kiss. She was confused, lost in a haze of emotions. And heavens, so was I.

When the lunch bell finally rang, my stomach twisted violently, a storm brewing within me that made it hard to stand. My inner voice screamed at me to walk away, to leave him be, just like I always did. After all, this was Elijah—I had witnessed his cruelty before, and it had cut through me like a knife more times than I could count.

Yet, some foolish, desperate part of me craved answers, and before I knew it, I was walking straight towards him.

He was seated with his teammates at their usual table, the center of the cafeteria, exuding an air of authority like a king upon his throne. Even with a bandage wrapped around his leg and a brace still strapped in place, he radiated power. His teammates leaned in, hanging on his every word, captivated by whatever he was saying.

But today, there was no laughter, no smirking grin. His expression was closed off, hard like steel, a fortress that I felt utterly unprepared to breach.

With a deep breath, I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Elijah,” I said softly, but the sound carried enough weight to draw attention from the entire table.

The room fell silent. Heads turned, and whispers began to swirl around us like a thick fog.

Slowly, he looked up, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that felt like a physical blow.

“What the fuck do you want?” he snapped, his tone sharp and unyielding.

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