Heir Of Fire Free Online Novels & Stories

Herculia pushed out a soft breath—her clothes and hair returned to normal, and all the fire disappeared, leaving behind glowing orange flowers beautifully scattered across the bushes and trees. “Huh? Nothing burned?” Nicole asked softly, in surprise. “My flames only burn what I tell them to. It doesn't matter what they engulf; if they aren't giving orders to destroy, they won't. Although not on the same level, this is the same kind of fire magic used by the Immortal, Avia Ignius—Divine Pyrokinesis,” Herculia answered, then turned around slowly before her eyes stopped glowing. *****

His hands slide to my back, pulling me closer, and I wrap my arms around his neck, desperate to feel him, to forget the pain. The heat between us builds quickly, like a fire spreading through my veins. His hands wander over my body, his touch urgent and desperate, and I feel a shiver run through me. I want to pull away, to stop this before it goes too far, but I don’t. I can’t.

The girl stood beside the hunter like a statue, silver rings circling her irises, her once-bright voice stolen, her soul somewhere else. Seraphine stepped forward, hand trembling, lips dry. “Kaela…?” The girl didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Only whispered, in a voice not her own: “Heir of flame. Daughter of Elira. You were warned.” The hunter stood behind her, arms crossed, emotionless. “We wanted to show you what happens when you love something more than your cause.” Seraphine’s flame flared — but dimly. Not because it was weak. Because she was shaking too hard to focus.

How he brought down an empire with a single roar and burned a third of the vampire dominion in the space of a night. They think they killed that line. Buried it with fire and silence. But they didn’t know… The last heir was hidden in blood. And born into a storm. I close the cabinet, locking it with an incantation. Then I reach for my journal. Not the one I keep for public study, but the bound volume passed through my line for generations.

“The sickness, it’s spreading East now. Even unmated girls. Some say it starts when they dream of silver fire.” Silver fire. I turned toward Lyra’s window across the courtyard. A faint light pulsed behind her curtains, like a heartbeat. The realization struck hard enough to steal my breath: whatever was happening to her…it wasn’t stopping. It was spreading. And the moon above us—our goddess, our oldest secret—was no longer watching. She was waking, and the world was already beginning to break.

Her head held up high nodding with silent approval. Yes, their plan would work. In a matter of time, Larissa would be in the castle and the much coveted stones that Silver Falcon wanted would be within their grasp. She would find it. Hydra was confident in her for some reasons, not only in the abilities that Summer had not yet known she possessed but in Silver Falcon's visions that had never failed him. "This will give you an advantage over the others. You must use it well." "The King and Queen will be curious about you, the Prince too. Let's hope he doesn't have any favourites yet, he'll certainly be of use to you some way or the other."

I was the only one who could handle her fire. "Nevan," she sobbed, her hands clutching my face. The violet light was still there, but it was soft now, like the dawn. "You're back. You're really back." "I told you," I whispered, pulling her into a crushing embrace. "I'm the only thing that's ever been yours. You can't get rid of me that easily." I felt her heartbeat—steady, powerful, and perfectly synced with the child’s. The Heir was quiet, watching us with a strange, alien curiosity. It had seen the Mother defeat the Grandmother. It had learned a new lesson: that love wasn't a flaw, but a firewall.

The mistress “Why is it that every time you have to call me when I am on vacation?” Bryan grumbled. “Why is it that every time I call you you are not working?” Vincent asked back, his month slightly upward. “Alright…what can I do for you, The Heir?” Bryan teased, “I’ve told you all popular women perfume names I know. I won’t know more unless I get a new girlfriend.” “Perhaps you should. By the way, we found the perfume the other day by ourselves before you texted me back.”

“Fire every cannon until their barrels melt. Burn the walls. I do not move from my wife’s side — not for the end of the world itself.” Maya screamed again — and the waters broke — not blood, not red — but a flood of sapphire radiance, spilling across the furs like liquid starlight — announcing the arrival of the Third Heir — as the shadow of the Leviathan swallowed the last light of the sun.

She breathed slow and kept her face still. "I also have an heir," he continued, his voice carrying the same even quality throughout. "Celeste produced something I had not thought possible. A natural conception." He tilted his head slightly. "You have produced something similar. A hybrid of considerable power." His pale eyes moved over her with clinical attention. "It raises certain questions about your own genetics. Whether you might prove equally productive under the right conditions." The fire popped. Maya didn't move. "It's worth consideration," he said. "For later." Something dropped in her stomach and stayed there.