The First Heir Novels & Stories

“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.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I could see mischief dancing in his bright eyes once more. "Delicious treats that won't involve anyone getting bitten, I hope," Hera said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips. She knelt down to meet my eyes, her hands resting gently on my shoulders. "Are you ready for your first trip to the world below, little one? There will be so many new things to see and learn." I nodded eagerly, feeling a flutter of excitement in my chest that was like butterflies taking flight. "I'm ready! Can we fly there? Like Hermes does?"

Most of all. He remembered becoming the father of the child she had just fled the pack to protect. And for the first time in his life... The future Alpha of the pack broke.

Interesting. (Kael’s POV) Finally. A contradiction. I looked sharply toward the First Heir. “What do you mean?” She looked at me for a long moment. Then finally— “The heirs were never the sickness.” Cold spread through the chamber. The creature went completely still. (Adrian’s POV) Oh no. She’s going to say it. (Aria’s POV) The First Heir looked directly into my eyes. Pain filled her expression. “They made us into prisons.” My breath caught.

"But I created the blood that flows through your veins." Kael's chest tightened. "You are lying." "I wish I were." The man sighed. "I was once called Lucien. The First Heir." Aster's eyes widened. "No. You are not Aster." Lucien nodded. "No. I came before him." Everyone fell silent. Seraphine closed her eyes. "The First Heir..." She whispered. "...was never Aster." Lucien slowly walked toward Kael. "No. Aster was merely the last guardian. I..." He placed a hand over his own heart. "...was the first."

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.

And for the first time, the ancient armies looked afraid. Because they finally understood. The First Heir had not returned to claim the throne. He had returned to end the war. Aureon's silver eyes flashed. And the final battle began. End of Chapter 159

"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."

"That's enough!" Derek suddenly yelled, glaring at me with pure contempt. "Let me tell you the truth—I'm the heir of the Astor family. When my parents get here tomorrow, forget a few dozen—I could give you hundreds! Thousands! You're nothing but a pathetic loser. Who are you to humiliate me?" With that, he shoved past me and ran out. Estelle's face darkened as she snapped at me, "Happy now? You really did hit your head. Now nobody's happy. Just pack your things and come with me!"

My parents always demanded that I, as the eldest son, set an example for my younger siblings. Whenever they messed up, it was automatically blamed on my failure to manage them properly. After my sister stole a sports car and hit a pedestrian, my father blamed me for failing to supervise her. To teach her a lesson, he publicly humiliated me at the annual shareholder meeting—the very place where I was supposed to establish my authority. "Failing to keep an eye on your sister is your negligence! To make sure she learns her lesson, your position as a director and your company shares are revoked!" He stripped away my stock and title, crushing my reputation in front of my board members and subo