His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 92

**Chapter 92**

**Claire’s POV**

A gentle whisper of my name pulled me from the depths of slumber, soft enough to blend seamlessly with the remnants of a dream I couldn’t quite grasp.

As I resurfaced from the warm cocoon of sleep, it felt as though I were breaking free from a tranquil sea. My eyelids felt as though they were weighted down, but I mustered the strength to pry them open. The first thing that came into focus was Elijah, leaning over me, a look of deep concern etched between his brows.

The moment our gazes locked, he released a shaky breath, relief flooding his features. “Thank the moon. Claire, hey.”

For a fleeting moment, everything around us seemed to blur, and a rough sensation clawed at my throat as I tried to swallow. “What… happened?” My voice emerged raspy, as if it had to fight its way out. A dull ache settled in my chest, not sharp, but a lingering reminder of something that had gone awry.

“You fainted,” he replied, his tone steady, a practiced calmness that belied the fear lurking beneath. He was so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, his knee brushing against the edge of the bed. “It wasn’t long. The nurse checked your vitals. They’re stable.”

I exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the softness of the pillow. Fainting wasn’t a stranger to me, yet it always left a cloud of confusion in its wake. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “Thanks.” I studied him, searching his eyes. “Did you tell my mom? Or your dad?”

He shook his head with a quickness that surprised me. “No. It didn’t seem necessary yet.”

A pang of guilt pricked at my heart. I never intended for him to shoulder this burden alone. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize, the nurse entered, clipboard tucked firmly under her arm. She moved with a brisk efficiency, her mind clearly ten steps ahead of the tasks at hand.

“Good, you’re awake,” she greeted, her voice brisk. “Claire, did you miss your pills this morning?”

My stomach plummeted at the question. I didn’t need to reply; the guilt must have been written all over my face. “…Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

She jotted something down on her chart, the pen tapping rhythmically against the paper. “That explains the episode. You can’t skip your medication. Not with your condition.” She sighed softly, her demeanor softening. “Anyway, someone’s here to see you.”

I glanced at Elijah, who shook his head ever so slightly, a silent assurance that it wasn’t him.

Before I could voice my curiosity, a sensation stirred within me. My wolf, dormant for days, suddenly began to awaken. The atmosphere thickened, and my heartbeat quickened—not in the panicked way from before, but in a primal instinct that signaled familiarity was near.

The door swung open, and Dr. Adrian stepped inside, his presence instantly shifting the mood in the room.

Elijah’s wolf reacted immediately, a surge of tension coursing through him that I could feel. His jaw tightened, shoulders coiling like a spring, and before he could rein it in, a low growl escaped him, barely contained. Dr. Adrian froze mid-step, his eyes widening as they landed on Elijah.

The nurse glanced between them, her throat clearing as if trying to dispel an invisible fog, but the tension remained thick and palpable.

“What are you doing here?” Elijah’s voice cut through the silence, low but simmering with intensity.

Dr. Adrian straightened, gripping the folder in his hand as if it were a lifeline. “The school called me. I’m the doctor overseeing her case, remember?” His gaze flickered to me, concern evident in his eyes. “I came as soon as I heard.”

The seriousness of his tone should have sent a shiver down my spine, but instead, a tired laugh escaped my lips. Everything felt overwhelming, and somehow, his full-blown meltdown over a doctor seemed absurd enough to cut through the tension.

“You sound jealous,” I teased, narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

He turned slowly, and the glare he shot my way was a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer. “I’m not jealous.”

“You punched a wall,” I pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“That has nothing to do with jealousy. That man—” His words faltered as he caught sight of the smile I couldn’t suppress. “You’re ridiculous.”

I extended my hand toward him. “Come here before you embarrass yourself more.”

He hesitated for a heartbeat, then walked back to the bed. As he settled beside me again, the anger within him began to dissipate. He reached up, brushing his fingers across my cheek with a tenderness that felt almost instinctual. The warmth of his touch was steady, soothing, and it settled something restless inside me.

His gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in a cocoon of silence.

“You scared me,” he murmured, his thumb gliding gently over my skin, a soft caress that spoke volumes.

Words failed me, and instead of answering, I leaned into his hand, allowing the moment to convey what I couldn’t express.