His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**Claire’s POV**

In that moment, time seemed to stretch infinitely, suspended in an uncomfortable silence that enveloped us both. Neither of us dared to make a sound or a move, as if the air itself had thickened, making it difficult to breathe.

I could hear the persistent drip of water somewhere between us, a rhythmic reminder of the tension in the air. Drops fell from his damp hair, from mine, and from the very atmosphere that felt charged with unspoken words.

Elijah stood framed in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the dim light. A towel hung low on his hips, another wrapped around his shoulders, as if it were the only barrier preventing him from stepping closer.

The amber glow illuminated his chest, which gleamed enticingly. I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from the sight before me: lean muscles sculpted beneath the skin, a faint scar just below his ribs, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing that seemed to synchronize with my own racing heart.

And those eyes—oh, those eyes.

Blue and piercing, they held a depth that was both captivating and inscrutable. It felt as if they were dissecting me, searching for answers while simultaneously placing the blame squarely on my shoulders.

I swallowed hard, the motion sending a shiver down my spine. Every nerve in my body quivered with anticipation. The rational part of my mind screamed for me to move, to cover myself, to utter something—anything—but my body was paralyzed, refusing to obey. My wolf stirred within me, a quiet yet vigilant presence, her pulse aligning perfectly with his.

Elijah’s gaze traveled, deliberate and slow, from my face down the trail of water that glistened along my collarbone, before snapping back to my eyes.

For a fleeting moment, his expression softened, an emotion flickering across his features like a candle’s flame.

But then, as if he had recognized the vulnerability in that softness, his jaw clenched tight once more.

I knew I should look away, to salvage whatever dignity I had left, but my eyes betrayed me, lingering on the curve of his shoulders, captivated by the way water glided over his skin like liquid silk.

An overwhelming urge surged through me, a longing to reach out, to trace the contours of his hard abs with my fingers. The desire struck me with such intensity that it felt almost painful.

Then, in a surprising move, Elijah took a step forward. I froze, my breath hitching in my throat, unable to tear my gaze from him.

He took another step, closing the distance between us. The room felt as though it was collapsing around us, our breaths merging in a symphony of anticipation that buzzed in the silence.

“Elijah…” I whispered, the sound escaping my lips before I even realized I had spoken. My heart raced at the instinctive reflex of uttering his name.

His hand twitched at his side, a subtle acknowledgment of my presence, as if he were battling an internal war. His wolf was palpable—not just behind his eyes, but in the very air around us, a palpable energy that intertwined with my own.

He was close enough for me to see the faint pulse in his neck, to inhale the clean, warm scent of his skin, mingling with the lingering trace of soap that only heightened my awareness. His eyes flickered to my mouth, and my breath caught in my throat.

For a heart-stopping moment, I believed he might lean in and kiss me.

But just as quickly, the fragile moment shattered.

Knock, knock. A light tapping echoed from outside the door.

We both jumped, startled like two eggs cracking on a hot skillet.

The sound burst the delicate bubble we had created in that brief span of time.

“Room service,” a cheerful female voice called from the other side, shattering the tension that hung between us.

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