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Heir
publish date:
2026-09-05 23:52:45
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The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin The child
Jordan's POVI slammed the SUV door behind me, the heavy metal thud lost beneath the roar of the rain. The storm soaked through my jacket in seconds, but my blood was boiling too hot to care."Get the fuck out of the road," I snarled, taking two heavy, deliberate steps toward him. "Before I paint the asphalt with you."Ronan didn't move an inch. He held the black umbrella steadily over his head, his tailored suit immaculate despite the downpour around him. The cold, eerie smile faded from his lips, replaced instantly by a look of gentle, sorrowful remorse—a performance so fluidly executed it made my stomach turn."Jordan," he said, his voice soft, pitched with a quiet, trembling humility that belonged in a confession booth, not a darkened mountain pass. "Please. I didn't come here to fight you. I know how things ended five years ago. I know what you think of me... and God knows I deserve every bit of your hatred.""Save it," I growled, my claws pressing sharp against the palms of my h
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Heir
Jordan's POV The council chamber was suffocating. The air—heavy with the stench of aged parchment, cold stone, and the sour sweat of agitated old men—felt thick enough to gag me.I leaned back in the carved ironwood chair at the head of the long table, my broad shoulders squared, my arms resting casually over the armrests. My posture was a deliberate lie: an easy, indifferent sprawl designed to infuriate the half-dozen Lycan elders seated around me. Beneath the polished mahogany, my claws were digging deep grooves into the underside of the wood, splintering the grain beneath the sheer, crushing pressure of my grip.Elder Vane leaned forward, slamming his gnarled, liver-spotted hands onto the polished surface. The crack echoed off the vaulted stone ceiling."Ten years, Jordan!" Vane's voice rattled with a dry, gravelly fury, his yellowed eyes bulging from their sockets. "Ten years since the treaty was signed and Vanessa was named heir-designate. The agreement was crystal clear. We com
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Court of bones
Jordan's POV The Court of Old BonesRaising a wolf cub is easy until you have to put a half-lycan, half-wild nightmare to sleep."And then the silver stag leaped over the dark river," I read, keeping my voice low and rumble-heavy, trying to mimic the soft rhythm of a winter breeze. "Leaving the hunters behind in the cold mud—""Did the stag kick them?" Ethan demanded, sitting bolt upright on his pillows. His dark, wild curls were sticking up in three different directions, his small chest heaving with entirely too much energy for eight o'clock at night. "Grandpa, did he kick the bad hunter in the face with his shiny feet?""No, Ethan. The stag ran away.""That's silly," Ethan huffed, crossing his tiny arms over his dragon-patterned pajamas. "If I was the shiny stag, I would have bitten their noses off. Like this." He made a snapping motion with his jaw, his baby fangs poking out just enough to catch the yellow light of the bedside lamp.I closed the leather-bound book with a heavy, de
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin blood seal
Vanessa povThe quiet in the bathroom felt dense, filled only by the hum of the overhead vanity lights and the steady, heavy sound of our breathing.I kept my hand flat against the clean dressing on Abel's ribs, feeling the slow, powerful rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm. He didn't pull away, and for the first time since this nightmare started, I didn't retreat either."Can you stand?" I asked, my voice dropping into a soft, quiet tone that sounded strange in my own ears."If I say no, do I get to stay on the floor?" Abel murmured, a faint, exhausted ghost of his dry humor slipping through the pain."No," I said, small lines of focus forming between my brows. "You get dragged onto the carpet, and I am not pulling your weight twice in one night."I stood up slowly, managing the dull ache in my own side, and reached out both hands. Abel took them, his large, calloused fingers closing tight around mine. With a low, grounded breath, he pulled himself up off the tub's edge. His b
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Stitching
The smell of metallic blood was overwhelming in the small space of the foyer, sharp and warm, cutting right through the lingering scent of rain.Vanessa didn't hesitate. The exhaustion that had weighed down her limbs for the past twelve hours vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp adrenaline. She grabbed Abel by his uninjured right arm, slinging it over her shoulder to take his weight before his knees could give out completely.He groaned, a low, ground-out sound against her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "I can walk," he muttered, though he leaned into her heavily as she dragged him across the carpet into the bathroom."Shut up," she said, her voice tight as she pulled him toward the edge of the large marble bathtub. She lowered him down onto the rim, her own bandaged ribs screaming in protest, but she ignored the pain.She turned on the overhead vanity lights, floodlighting the space in stark, brilliant white. The sight made her stomach drop.The entire left side of his tactical
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin broken
Vanessa's POVThe hotel room was too quiet, too sterile, and far too small for the storm brewing inside her head.Vanessa leaned against the marble bathroom counter, staring at her reflection in the gilded mirror. The high-rise suite had every amenity imaginable, but the polished luxury felt like a velvet cage. She hated the quiet. She hated the faint smell of hotel ozone and lavender polish trying to mask the scent of lingering rain. Most of all, she hated the fact that no matter how hard she tried to focus on her recovery, her mind kept drifting right back to him.Abel.His low, even voice echoed in the back of her mind like an itch she couldn't scratch. “Because someone has to make sure you survive long enough to keep being ungrateful about it."*She gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white until her jaw ached.She hated everything today.She hated the sharp, pulling ache in her side where Abel's neat, clinical stitches bound her flesh together. She hated the linger
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