His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Claire’s POV**

The dawn arrived with an unexpected swiftness, especially considering how deeply I had slept through the night.

“Wake up, Claire. It’s time for school.”

At first, the words barely penetrated the fog of my sleep. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of my dreams, and focused on Mom, who stood at my bedroom door, her smile radiant and infectious—brighter than I could ever remember.

“School?” I croaked, my voice thick with sleep. “You can’t be serious. I literally just left mine yesterday.”

Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. “Oh, but I am serious! The Alpha has already made all the arrangements. You’re starting today, and guess what? You’ll be attending the same school as his son.”

The news hit me like a lead weight, my stomach plummeting at the mention of his son. My new stepbrother. Just perfect.

What struck me even more was the transformation in my mother. She looked radiant, glowing as if someone had flicked a switch inside her, illuminating her from within.

“You’re smiling like you just won the lottery,” I muttered, finally sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around me.

Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. “I had a wonderful night. Ethan marked me.”

I gagged dramatically, the sound exaggerated. “Ew. Mom. Gross. I do not want to hear about your… whatever that is.”

To my surprise, a genuine laugh escaped me, a sound I hadn’t heard in what felt like ages. It was the first real laugh since we had stepped foot in this mansion.

She chuckled, playfully swatting my arm. “I’m serious! I’m happy, Claire. Happier than I’ve been in years.”

Her joy was so palpable, so honest, that for a fleeting moment, my defenses began to crumble. Perhaps I had been too harsh, too quick to judge. Maybe Ethan was genuinely trying to bring a smile back to Mom’s face.

With a deep sigh, I relented. “Alright. I’ll give him a chance. But just for you. And only as your husband. He will never be my dad.”

Her eyes softened, glistening with gratitude as she leaned down to envelop me in a warm hug, one that smelled faintly of her floral perfume. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s all I ask.”

As she pulled away, I felt a pang of longing for her warmth, which lingered in the air long after she exited the room.

I pushed myself out of bed, my mind racing as I made my way to the bathroom. A quick shower revitalized me, steam curling around the mirror until my reflection became a hazy silhouette. I brushed my teeth, smoothed my hair into a neat ponytail, and applied a touch of lip gloss—just enough to feel somewhat put together without looking like I was trying too hard.

Downstairs, breakfast awaited me, an extravagant spread that would make any five-star hotel envious—eggs cooked to perfection, flaky pastries, an array of fresh fruits, and juices arranged in crystal glasses that sparkled in the morning light. At the head of the table sat Alpha Ethan, exuding authority like a king on his throne, every inch of him radiating power.

“Good morning, Claire,” he greeted me, his tone even and steady.

I mustered a small smile, this time devoid of any pretense. “Morning.”

He nodded, as if acknowledging that this was the best response I would offer.

Mom had already prepared everything I needed: uniforms, notebooks, and even a meticulously organized schedule. “Your stepbrother already left for school. You’ll meet him there,” she informed me.

Perfect. Nothing quite like meeting your new “brother” in front of a crowd of strangers.

I finished my toast, grabbed my bag, and stepped outside to find a sleek white car waiting for me, a driver in a crisp suit standing beside it. My own car. My own driver.

This was not my life.

***

As I stood before the imposing gates of the new school, I immediately sensed that I was the odd one out.

The gates themselves looked more luxurious than my entire old house. The campus sprawled before me like a prestigious college rather than a high school—perfectly manicured lawns, elegant fountains, and glass windows that shimmered under the morning sun.

And the students? They were clad in designer shoes, their nails perfectly polished, and bags that likely cost more than our former monthly rent.

As soon as I stepped onto the grounds, their eyes zeroed in on me, whispers trailing behind me like sharp little pinpricks against my back. Who’s she? The new girl? She doesn’t belong here. I caught glimpses of disdain—eyes flicking to my glasses, to the metal on my teeth, lips twisting in judgment as if I were an exhibit they hadn’t signed up to see.

But I didn’t flinch. After years of enduring bullying, the stares became mere background noise. I hugged my bag tighter and continued walking.

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