Claire Redfield Death Island Novels & Stories

Relief flooded over me—until Claire suddenly raised her gun, barrel aimed directly at Jeffery. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Edward planned contingency for even me." Shock froze me momentarily. "Claire, no!" Jeffery bristled with rage, his eyes flashing perilously, instinctively shielding me. "You no longer have to obey Edward. He's dead." Claire shook her head slowly, pain obscuring her stern face. "Edward's power doesn't end with death. He had plans. I have no choice." "You always have a choice," I begged in desperation, terror running wild. "Claire, don't do this."

Somehow I had managed to lower my barrier and get through to Claire. “That’s good, but you don’t have to thank—” “I know what you did, you piece of shit,” she hissed into my ear. “I saw it when you opened your mind to me. You’re the reason they all died. You killed them all.” Her voice trembled, as did the rest of her. I grabbed her arm and dragged her further away “I didn’t kill anyone. They were already dead when we got here.” “No. You—”

Claire fell down, she was a chair in front of Leon, her knees felt weak. "Leon ... I guess ..." "What, Claire?" Leon asked while holding back his annoyance. "I think my mother is dead," replied Claire. Her tears broke again even though she tried to hold them back. "Don't talk nonsense!" snapped Leon as he rose to his feet. “I don't know what to think, Leon… I'm just so tired. I don't even know if I still want to live in a situation like this," replied Claire. She just wanted to be honest, even if it sounded really sad. Claire knew she shouldn't despair like this, but Claire was just a human. She wasn't Athena, nor Aphrodite, Claire was just Claire. She was tired, she wanted her quiet life as

384 Rashid was there with Hunter all this time so he knew who was there at the funeral and who wasn't. Claire was from those who neither made it to his mother's funeral in time, nor his father's. Well, he knew that she was strangled on the island because Hunter left her there when he heard that his mom was dead, so it was understandable why she wasn't there at Hunter's mom's funeral. But dad's? Rashid didn't know about that.

My steps quicken instinctively, my heart racing as I approach her. Her gaze lifts to mine, and for a brief second, something flickers in her eyes—fear? Pain? I can’t tell. Before I can ask what’s wrong, she stumbles forward, collapsing into my arms. Fear grips me. Memories of losing Isabel crash into me with the force of a tidal wave. I hated her for what she did, for the betrayal, but I never wished for her to die. And now, Claire—the one person whose resemblance to Isabel keeps me grounded—is in my arms, pale and lifeless. Her gaze locks with mine for a fleeting moment before her eyes flutter closed, and a chill runs down my spine.

She spoke her voice and others in unison. "The pure-blooded Luna has to die," she said, rasping for air in her lungs, then repeating it. "The pure-blooded Luna has to die." Claire's breathing got heavier, repeating it a third time. "The pure-blooded Luna has to die." The wind stopped suddenly. Papers falling in slow motion to the ground. Claire shot her head towards me, her white eyes locking on to me, slowly lifting a finger she pointed at me. "You can not stop it, for if you try. They both will die," she said, sending chills down my spine. Ice filled my veins. Dread creeped up my spine at that moment. The air stalled in the room feeling as though someone sucked the air completely from the

Hunter froze, his eyes wide with shock, unable to process what had just happened. “They’re here,” Claire said as Rafael’s group arrived in their vehicle. She excused herself to meet them, but before she could get close, a loud thud echoed through the air, like something heavy hitting the ground. Claire turned toward the source of the sound and saw the woman’s lifeless, bloodied body on the ground. When Claire informed Aleah that the help they had been waiting for had arrived, Aleah briefly glanced at the vehicle before turning her attention back to Donna, her heart heavy with the weight of the tragedy.

When Finley called, Claire was lounging on a sun-drenched beach in the Maldives. The scenery was straight out of a postcard—crystal-clear water, endless blue skies. For someone who'd never seen the ocean, Claire was completely captivated. She'd arrived carrying the weight of her grief, but the island worked its magic. Slowly, the sea seemed to pull her sadness away, leaving behind a strange sense of peace. Nearby, the instructor was setting up for a snorkeling session when Claire's phone started buzzing nonstop.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to move into the house of the man who abandoned you after your child’s death!” Claire grunted, slamming her mug against the hospital cafeteria's table a little too roughly. “I told you it was a bad idea to give her that news after a 16-hour shift.” Isla sighed at me, grabbing some napkins to clean up the coffee drops Claire had spilled.

On the bottom of the photo, someone had written in neat black ink: He loved her too. My pulse slowed. Not from calm. From focus. “Caleb,” I said. “What?” “I just received something.” I forwarded the image. He was silent for several seconds. “Who sent it?” “Unknown number.” The typing dots appeared beneath the image. Then a message followed. You and Isabella are asking the wrong question. I stared at the screen. Another message appeared. Claire did not die because Marcus hated her. She died because she was going to destroy him.