The First Heir Novels & Stories

answered Blake, who kept his eyes straight, looking at the wall across where he stood. Then, at least look at her when saying those words. Alise was about to cry, and she didn’t want any of them to see her. Alise didn’t want them to think she was ungrateful and such. But none of them thought of her that way. They knew she was just lost. “Then what am I supposed to do now?” Her voice wavered. “To ensure your protection, we’ll announce that the family’s heir is back. These seven boys have been trained for years and dedicated their lives to you. You’ll be attending Prestigious Academy. There, you will learn various things.”

His claws curled into his palms. The scent of her blood filled the air. Too much blood. He was their firstborn—the heir to the throne of Vargrheim. By the sacred laws woven into the kingdom’s history, the first child sired by an Alpha and his mate would inherit the mantle of leadership, marked by blood and destiny. But such a birth came with a price.

“They want what you carry. They want… our heir.” The words cut deeper than I expected. Heir. Not child. Not baby. Something political, powerful. Darius’s lips pressed into a grim line. “Not just an heir, Aria. A bloodline the Council has feared for decades. The prophecy of the First Alpha reborn.” My breath caught. “Prophecy?” Kael growled, low and warning, but Darius pressed forward.

“Before the packs. Before dominance became law.” A cold realization settled in her chest. “That’s why they were hunted,” she said. “Yes.” His voice softened but it didn’t feel kind. “It took centuries to wipe them out.” Lucian swore under his breath. “And now,” the man continued, “you carry something even more valuable than that bloodline.” His gaze dropped again to her stomach. Icarra’s breath caught. “The heir,” he said quietly, “is not just a child.” Her entire body went rigid. “It is the first true Sovereign born in generations.”

"I hate watching you stuck." He was quiet for a long moment. Around them the table was loud enough to swallow a private conversation whole. "There was a seer," he said finally. "When I was seven. She told my father that my first Luna would bear an heir whose name would outlast mine. An alpha of alphas." He picked up his glass. "The prophecy is bound to the first bond. If I reject Briar before she has given me two children, the lineage breaks. The heir never comes."

“You shouldn’t call me that.” “Why not?” I asked softly. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? Your firstborn… your blood… the daughter you hid.” The King inhaled slowly, like someone preparing to operate on an open wound. “You were never meant to hear that.” “Well. Too late.” His eyes hardened, his authority sharpening into something metallic. “You may be my blood, but you are not my heir.” “I am the firstborn.” “And that is irrelevant,” he snapped. “A Draeven heir must be born under the full moon. You were not.”

except for duels. Cassy frowned at that. "Aren't the first born sons automatically the heirs?" She asked, sound muffled since she was literally speaking into his chest. She felt him shake his head. "Not quite. What is easily given can easily be taken. You must fight for a chance at being called heir of a clan and pack. It is the way. That way, there will never be question of an if and what if once it comes to an inheritance." Cassy harrumphed. "When was your first duel?"

After that, he stood up and bellowed furiously, "Whoever can recover the treasure tower is definitely the top contributor to the family and can ensure the family's prosperity! It's reasonable to make him the head of the family!" "But... But..." Julien begged, "Father, ever since you took the position, I've been the first heir for years, and my eldest son, Royce, is the second heir to the family. We've been trained and educated as heirs for years. If some lucky bastard accidentally finds the treasure tower somewhere, wouldn't all our efforts over the years be in vain? T-This is unfair..."

The falling dust suspended in the air. I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. “Then... whose seal is it?” Our mother looked from the First Alpha to me, tears streaming endlessly down her pale face. “It is the Mark of the Heir.” An icy chill swept through my veins, freezing the breath in my lungs. “The heir... to what?” The First Alpha stepped forward through Damon’s body, his crimson-tinged eyes fixed on mine with a look of terrifying, triumphant pride. “The heir to the First Seat,” he purred.

"Yes. I heard it." Across the ruined altar, the First King let out a soft, low chuckle that built into a triumphant laugh. "Now you understand," the ancient entity purred, his shadowy form drifting closer like a ink stain spreading over white marble. "The Final Heir has awakened." "No," Lorrie gasped, shaking her head as tears burned her eyes. "No! He’s a baby! He was born only minutes ago!" "His body is new," the First King countered softly, his glowing eyes fixed on the child. "His soul, however, is a vessel forged before the foundations of this underworld were laid. His consciousness is ancient."