Heir In Hiding Novels & Stories

“You’re talking nonsense. I’m leaving. Thanks for dinner.” I started walking, but he grabbed my wrist. “Let go. What the hell are you doing?” I glanced around, worried people were staring. Derek was well-known here, and so was I. The last thing I needed was a paparazzo snapping a photo of us. “Give me a chance, Elara. I’ll take care of your son too,” he begged, dropping the one secret I’d kept hidden for years. My eyes widened in horror. “H-how do you know?”

Then silence. I closed my eyes and pretended I hadn’t heard it. Thirty days. A house full of secrets. A man who looked at me like he wanted to own every broken piece. And a will that had already decided neither of us was walking away clean. I was the hidden heir. And the dark had only just begun to open its mouth.

"Why didn't you give this to me weeks ago?" "Because once you take it, once your wolf emerges, every supernatural creature within a hundred miles will know exactly what you are. The Moonblood heir, carrying a child of mixed bloodline, vulnerable and valuable." She set the vial between us. "I kept you hidden for sixteen years. This ends that protection." "Tell me about the Pure. Who leads them?" Beth's face darkened. "That's the question, isn't it? They hide behind proxies, pawns. But there are whispers. Someone high in the council. Someone who's been playing both sides for decades."

Two little girls stood beside each other. One was Amelia. The other was Eva. But behind them stood three adults. Her mother. Richard. And Samuel. Eva stared at Samuel. “He was there.” “Yes,” Margaret said. Eva turned the photograph over. There was a handwritten message. THE FIRST HEIR WILL BE WATCHED. THE SECOND HEIR WILL BE HIDDEN. WHEN THEY FIND EACH OTHER, THE ARCHIVE WILL OPEN. Eva's heart pounded. “The second heir.” She looked at Amelia. “That was me.”

“Maybe they weren’t talking about the crown itself.” I frowned. “Then what were they talking about?” Caelan stepped closer. “The heir.” I looked at him. He pointed toward the letter. “Father hid you. Not the crown.” I felt the air slowly leave my lungs as a small gasp escape. The realization settled heavily inside me. The words from the map returned to my mind. THE HEIR WAS HIDDEN. THE CROWN WAS NOT. My father hadn’t hidden the crown. He had hidden me. Because somehow, I was what they were looking for.

"You didn't meet her by accident at that auction. You targeted us." ​"I targeted you," he corrected, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me inches from his face. The "lesson" from earlier was gone; this was the raw, ugly truth. "Your mother is the bridge, Elara. But you? You are the destination. This house, the land, the 'Hidden Heir' accounts—they all unlock on your twenty-first birthday. And I am the only one who holds the key." ​Outside, a crack of thunder shook the windows.

“Exposing what?” Aera lifted her hand. The sigil glowed steadily. “Everything they hid.” Silence fell upon the room. Then— Kael spoke. Slowly, carefully. “This second heir…” Aera nodded. “He existed.” “And now?” Her gaze darkened. “He doesn’t.” Kael’s chest tightened. “Then where did he go?” Aera’s grip tightened slightly around the parchment. “They didn’t remove him from the throne.” She looked up. “They removed him from history.”

If Fundano’s son was truly alive and nearby, then this wasn’t just a revelation…. A revelation that the past was done waiting. And that whoever this lost heir had become, he was no longer hiding. He was circling.

She stayed like that until the worst of the pressure eased, then lowered her hands and looked again at the document still resting beside her. One thing, at least, was clear now. Her father had not hidden her because she was worthless. He had hidden her because she mattered. She was his daughter. She was the heir. And someone had been willing to kill a six-year-old child for that reason alone. The knowledge did not remove the fear or the confusion, but it gave them a different shape. It made the hiding feel less like erasure and more like the only protection he had been able to offer.

"The quarry will have kept a copy of that instruction. Wardens keep everything." "Then I'll have the ledger seized before the warden hears what I've asked," I said, and filed it beside the other things I meant to do to that man. "To keep me quiet," Wren said. "So I couldn't prove who I was." It was the answer I was giving myself for days, and now that she had said it aloud I found I couldn't leave it standing. A hidden heir needs a doctored register and a filed-down pendant, and whoever managed those had finished both before she could walk. Nobody needed a quarry for that.