Novel & Cerita Heir Of Blood

But the heir’s stare was steady, unyielding. “My mother was of the Shadowblood line,” he said at last. “I inherited… this.” He gestured vaguely to the darkness curling at his boots. “I didn’t know what it meant until the Creed found me.” “And now?” she asked. “Now I know they’ll never stop coming.” A knock at the door broke the moment. One of the scouts stepped in, snow melting from his cloak. “My lady. You need to hear this.” The heir straightened. “Speak.”

I knock the blade from his hand, sending it clattering down the stairs and I pin him against the banister, pressing the edge of my dagger to his throat. “You think you carry Nightwalker blood because of your cursed father?” I hiss back into his mind. “You are nothing, Drake. I carry the blood of the Nightwalker and the Moon Goddess.” His eyes widen. “That makes me the true heir. Lord of all. You were never more than a failed experiment.” His anger shows and his cheeks darken with blood. He is not a true animal of the jungle or he would recognize the king of kings when he saw it.

The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic, disjointed rush—the armed guards, the terrifying, sterile mansion, the father I thought was buried in a grave fifteen years ago standing by a window like a ghost. I told him about Adrian, the secret brother who climbed through balconies and joked about poison, and the Syndicate network that had tracked my very footsteps to our university grid. I told him how Kai and Nikolai had torn the city apart, prepared to launch a full-scale assault on a fortified compound just to drag me out. And finally, my voice cracking into a raw, painful whisper, I told him the most terrifying part: that I was an heir to a throne of blood, and that my life would neve

Heir. Fear moved through me then in a different shape than before. Not abstract. Not philosophical. Immediate. If Tobias Viremont still lived, then I was not some nameless stranger who might pass through the Outlands unnoticed. I was his offspring. His heir. The child my mother took from him and carried back across the barrier. A stolen claim. A missing bloodline. Something more dangerous than I had ever imagined myself becoming.

"The Heir needs a catalyst. A heart that has been emptied is the perfect vessel for my return. And you, Rhea... you are the cradle that is finally falling." A sudden, sharp contraction tore through Rhea’s abdomen, making her arch her back and scream. The glass-like skin of her stomach was glowing so brightly it was translucent. She could see him. The Heir. He wasn't a baby anymore. He was a curled, terrifying shape of pure shadow, his fingers elongated and clawed, his head crowned with jagged obsidian horns. He was pushing. He was fighting to be free of the flesh that had held him. "I can't... I can't do this alone," she wheezed, her silver veins pulsing with a violent, violet light.

She raised the obsidian blade and pressed it to my arm, drawing a line of crimson blood that glowed in the cave's dim light. The blood of the heir, she murmured. The key that unlocks the first's power completely. When I bind her to my will, when I control the strength that should have been yours, I will reshape the world. Packs will kneel. Alphas will beg. And I will stand at the center of it all, eternal and unchallenged. The blood dripped from my arm onto the altar, and I felt something shift in the cave, something ancient waking from a sleep deeper than the first's had ever been.

Back when he told me that, I thought he was just making it up to pressure me into taking over the sanctum. I still remembered the way he used to tap my forehead, half-annoyed. "You're not even on the list. The master chose his heir long before you were born. It's a very special and gifted boy." Could that heir be Max? I didn't waste time. I grabbed my needles again, adjusted the placements, and began breaking the spell. Half an hour passed. It should've worked by now. But he still didn't wake up, and I couldn't hear a heartbeat either.