The Heir Book Novels & Stories

The transition from the humming, crystalline clarity of the underground throne room to the warm, cluttered comfort of his Tribeca loft was a sort of psychic whiplash. Davidson would take the private elevator, watch the numbers climb from B5 to PH, and feel his very soul undergo a painful metamorphosis. The man who descended was the Heir, the Keeper of Secrets, the man who had looked upon the world of lights. The man who had to walk out into his home was a different man: David, husband, father.

"From the very beginning, the heir was the one in Stella's belly!" "This was just an unacknowledged bastard, a creature no one wanted. Why should he have been born?" "So he could live his life branded as a 'mutt'?" I was a walking corpse, shuffling toward the future Don, leaving a trail of scarlet on the floor. Each step left a bloody footprint, a gruesome trail of what we had lost. I stopped right in front of him and asked, my voice devoid of emotion. "Tell me, who was ever looking forward to the birth of the true Gallo heir?"

Margaret sneered. "Get a grip, Felix. That Vivian girl was just some commoner trying to marry into money. Getting rid of her bastard child is nothing but a benefit to this family." "Bastard?" Felix shot up, his eyes bloodshot. "Mom, do you have any idea who you killed?" He stood, trembling with rage. "Vivian was carrying the one and only heir to the Blackwood family!" Margaret's wine glass froze mid-air.

“What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t shot in my manhood,” he shouted. The man was Brian William, first heir to his family fortune. Although he had been in elite education since a child and had always been taught to conceal his real emotions, Brian couldn’t help cursing as he spoke with this young physician. He put his hand to his forehead and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Brian couldn’t hurt this doctor. After all, he was the last doctor specializing in men’s health that Brian hadn’t visited.

The long binders stayed untouched on the other side of the desk, quietly and patiently waiting for the big boss to pick them up. Long, tense minutes of total silence left me clenching my teeth together. Keeping my breathing steady while forcing my restless leg to stay still required effort and patience. If only I could, by now I'd be storming out of this building without a single word. Fuck this. I had no plans to be an errand boy for my father for another year, much less be some psychotic Italian heir's bitch, just so I could prove to the entire Falco clan that I wasn't as useless as they all thought.

I pressed a hand to my temple. No. Nope. Absolutely not. There were plenty of Black Hollow problems I had prepared myself for. Gossip. Bad memories. Ex-mate trauma. Possibly mold in the Frost house. Telepathic window monsters had not made the list. The silver-eyed thing leaned closer to the glass. The bloody symbol smeared beneath its hand. The voice came again, colder this time. The blood heir lives. Every muscle in my body locked. Blood heir. The words felt wrong and familiar at the same time, like hearing a name I had forgotten belonged to me.

The air stank of Crown wolves and old iron and underneath it all, I caught Lyra’s scent, sharp with fear and fierce with life and the bond pulled me forward like a rope around my heart. I saw her the instant the corridor opened into the main hall. She stood near the far wall in hybrid form, claws out, silver-black fur rippling along her arms, one hand pressed protectively to her stomach. The heir was reacting hard; I could feel it through the bond, a frantic kick of warning that made my own wolf snarl in answer and between us stood the thing that had made her wolf rise. The Heir-Hunter. It was massive, bigger than any natural wolf had a right to be, shoulders thick with muscle, silver eyes g

“But why are they searching for me… I did nothing to them.” Ophelia paused, then said quietly, “You are the heir. You’re the Alpha of Nightshade.” The word hit harder than anything else. Is he an heir? He felt it… something curled in his chest. Something unfamiliar. His fingers twitched as he shook his head slightly.

The notary's finger hovered above the keyboard for a moment. "Mrs. Fuzio." He adjusted his glasses, not daring to look straight at me. "The heir next in line needs to be present to confirm his intentions." I was confused. Christian Fuzio was an only child. His parents passed away ten years ago. We were married for 20 years with no children. "What did you say?" Before the notary could reply, the doors opened. When the boy walked in, I didn't even react. That was, until I saw his face.

Prominently highlighted was Article VII, Clause Delta. The figure continued, "However the Council is not without… leniency. A path to redemption exists. You have one week, Alexander Sterling, to fix this breach. You will present yourself before the Council.. You will bring the true heir. The one who can uphold the covenant. The child of the Sterling bloodline. Ready to serve." The woman with the gavel brought it down with a thud. Alexander stared at the screen horrified. The true heir. They didn’t just want his company; they wanted Leo. His son, who was currently undergoing tests for a heart condition was now a pawn in a generations-old game.