The Demon Heir Novels & Stories

Its eyes; dozens of them,blinked across its chest, arms, and neck. Its voice crawled into their minds, low and coiling. “Who dares disturb my slumber?” Selene gasped, retreating behind Ryker, who instinctively stepped in front of her. Nyra stood tall. “I am Nyra Duskbane. I offer blood, soul, and flesh in exchange for your strength.” The demon's lipless mouth curled into something like amusement. “Ah… the last heir of the Broken Throne. Your heart drips vengeance. I like that.”

"Yet I am still alive. I doubt if the others ever survived this long." He stopped and slowly lifted himself off my body. I sat up immediately and watched him, waiting to hear what he would say. "What makes you think you can control my demon?" He finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. I smiled. He had taken the bait. "I come from a bloodline of healers. My mother was once the Silver Healer of her time and I should inherit her title," I explained. "We study poisons, herbs, curses and even something as dark as a demon."

The seed would stabilize after a few weeks but if the womb is not taken care of, the person might have a miscarriage and bleed to death as a punishment. Right now, it’s been a thousand years since the Demon Realm had a heir. Xegris was a heir to the throne and if he didn’t produce the next heir for another century then the demon realm would be in a total extinction. It would be nice to have a girl to continue the demon race but it’s already been hundreds of years ever since that happened and their existence are already threatened as it is. Dev clenched her fist tight as she looked at the purplish skies. “We just have to make her give birth to His Highness heir, after that it doesn’t matter i

He knew that he had met his end. “Take him away!” Peter instructed. The special forces went to the basement with Greg. I followed. The moment the lift doors were opened, we smelt a strong chemical scent. It was not a warehouse. Instead, it was a luxurious and well-equipped lab. There were a lot of devices and blinking lights. On the rack next to the wall, there were a lot of test tubes. On one of the rows, there was a blue tag. It said: Angel’s Kiss. At the deepest corner of that lab, there was a heavy metal door.

I asked. The demon nodded and approached the border of the pentagram. "With your mother..." he said, his eyes ice-blue, cold, mocking. "That blonde girl?" he looked at Martha. "Yes. I was a bit too much for her in my true form." "Motes of Darkness probably didn't help either," I agreed. The demon smiled at me again. "So why did you call me...son? Do you want to get a sister, perchance? From the black-haired one?"

"Grandmother? But... everyone said my family was gone. I have no family left." "People say many things, my child," Madame Celestia walked closer and sat down on the sofa opposite me, crossing her legs gracefully. "But I am here. And I have come to take you home." "Home?" I frowned, stepping back slightly. "This is my home now. I live here with Alexander." At the mention of his name, Madame Celestia's expression turned cold. Her eyes narrowed. "Alexander Volkov... yes. The Devil's heir. I knew this day would come. I knew you would find him. That is why I had to come."

Miles muttered before he flipped to another page. "Vampirar is vampire." I put away the heavy drapes. Bright and blinding rays of the sun penetrated my skin, leaving a somewhat stinging sensation. I stepped away from the windows and grabbed clean clothes, opting for a casual dress and light leather boots. The weather seemed fine, and in case his family invited us to while the day away with more outdoor activities, at least I'd be comfortable. "What's 'dhampirica'?" "Half-vampire, half-human offspring," Miles said flatly.

I used to hide in the shadows of the grand staircase, clutching the banister with small fingers, the wood polished so perfectly I could see my reflection. A little girl with wide, uncertain eyes. A girl who wanted to be seen. But Father’s eyes never looked at me. “Damien, you are my heir.” His words rolled like thunder, powerful, undeniable. “You carry my blood, my strength, my future. The empire will be yours.” I remember that day vividly. I was six. Damien was only eight. We were children, yet the weight of crowns and shadows had already been placed on his head, while I stood barefoot in the corner, watching.

“Crane knows who you really are, Julian. He’s known for weeks. He’s just been waiting… watching… to see who else figures it out.” Julian’s stomach tightened. Aiden stared at him. “You mean…” Oliver nodded. “Yes. He knows you’re the heir.” Clarissa stepped forward, and said in a hard voice. “Then why hasn’t he done anything?” “Because,” Oliver said slowly, “he’s not the type to eliminate the heir. He’s the type to use him.” Julian’s breath caught. “He wants to control you, Julian. Put you in Harold’s place, clean up the mess, and make it look like VanDermere Global is being saved from within. You’ll be his puppet, his perfect distraction while he tightens his grip on the company.”

I continued, voice steady despite the knot tightening in my chest, “what would’ve happened?” He didn’t answer immediately. “That’s not something the council knows either,” he said finally. “But if I had to guess…” His voice lowered. “You wouldn’t be standing here.” A chill crawled up my spine. “Possession?” I asked. “Ascension,” he corrected. “Which is just possession with prettier language.” I swallowed. “Then she’ll try again.” “Yes.” “When?” Rael’s gaze flicked upward, toward the pale sky. “Soon.” The pendant pulsed faintly in agreement.