His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 97

**Chapter 97**

**Claire’s POV**

As I stirred from sleep, an odd sensation fluttered within my chest, a peculiar mix of excitement and trepidation that left me feeling both energized and vulnerable. It wasn’t fear, nor was it anxiety—rather, it was something in between, a strange anticipation that urged me to stretch luxuriously beneath the covers while simultaneously wanting to curl up and hide from the world outside. The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden stripes across my wooden floor, and for a fleeting moment, I lost track of time, utterly absorbed in the tranquility of the morning.

Then, as if summoned by some inner instinct, my wolf whispered to me, its voice a soft echo in the recesses of my mind.

**Gala.**

In an instant, the weight of reality crashed down upon me, and I shot upright in bed as though the sun itself had flung the blankets away.

I rubbed my eyes vigorously, attempting to quell the rapid thumping beneath my ribs. “Relax,” I murmured to myself, the words barely escaping my lips. “It’s just a gathering of alphas and a sea of judgmental gazes. No big deal.”

My wolf snorted in response, clearly unimpressed by my attempt at self-reassurance.

As I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, I was greeted by a whirlwind of activity. The house buzzed with life, servants darting past me with strings of twinkling lights, enormous vases filled with moonlilies, and trays laden with crystals that sparkled as if they were forged from the very essence of dawn.

From downstairs, I could hear someone shouting about centerpieces, while another voice rose in a heated debate over table placements. It was chaos, dressed up in a tiara, a beautiful mess that made my heart race with both excitement and dread.

And then I spotted her—my mom.

She was standing by the balcony railing, clad in a cream robe that flowed elegantly around her, her hair pinned in soft waves that framed her glowing face. She looked radiant, as if she had absorbed the warmth of the sun itself for breakfast. The moment her gaze landed on me, her smile brightened, illuminating the room as if it had been waiting just for me.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted, gliding toward me with a grace that made it seem as if she were floating. “Have the maids delivered your dress yet?”

I opened my mouth to respond, only to stammer, “Uh—no, I haven’t—”

Before I could finish my sentence, three maids rounded the corner like a shimmering stampede, each one struggling to carry massive garment bags that looked as though they belonged in a royal museum. One of them nearly stumbled under the weight of her load.

My mom chuckled, delight dancing in her eyes. “There you go! I may have… given them the go-ahead to bring a few options.”

“Mom.” I stared at the bags, my mind racing. “Options? These look like entire collections.”

A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. “Exactly.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face in exasperation. “You know I’m going to take forever to choose.”

“Ah, but that’s part of the fun,” she sang, her tone teasing and utterly unhelpful.

I was about to protest when my wolf suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, murmured:

**Call Elijah.**

The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I blinked in surprise. I immediately shoved it aside, horrified. Absolutely not. Why on earth would I reach out to him for something as trivial as selecting a dress? And why was my wolf even suggesting it?

No. I refused to entertain that thought any longer.

The maids glided past me, their sparkly burdens swaying gently as they bowed slightly in my direction, promising to return by four to handle my hair and makeup. Four o’clock. Oh gods. That was only… far too few hours away. The mere thought of it made my stomach twist in knots, and I tried to suppress the rising panic.

My mom, blissfully unaware of my internal turmoil, smoothed a hand over my cheek. “The gala starts at six sharp, darling. You’ll have plenty of time to choose your dress.” Her voice took on a softer tone as she added, “Ethan and I need to meet with the elders now, but enjoy the dress selection, okay? And if you need assistance, don’t hesitate to call Elijah. He knows what’s appropriate for royal functions.”

I made an exaggerated gagging sound. “Thanks so much for that.”

She laughed, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before gliding down the hall, her slippers whispering softly against the polished floors. Ethan trailed behind her, speaking quietly into his phone, casting a brief nod in my direction.

And just like that, I was left amidst the bustling footsteps, the decorations, the overwhelming stress, and an urgent craving for caffeine.

I made a hasty escape to the kitchen, maneuvering around florists and decorators, and a man who looked like he was on the brink of tears over a color scheme. The rich aroma of roasted coffee beans enveloped me the moment I stepped through the door, and I couldn’t help but let out a small, blissful sigh.

Salvation.

I poured myself a steaming cup, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic for comfort, and retreated to the counter as if it were a sanctuary. For a glorious five minutes, I was left undisturbed. No one approached me for input or asked me to review swatches or approve lighting decisions. I simply sat there, swinging my foot, inhaling the fragrant steam, pretending I wasn’t on the verge of selecting a dress that could potentially be scrutinized by the entire pack.

Then, my phone buzzed, nearly causing me to drop my mug in surprise.

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