The Lost Heir Novels & Stories

The moment my mother in-law uttered that word, I coughed so hard and almost choked on the food I was eating. The Heir reveal is like a ritual that every legitimate son of the Seattle's must partake in to be legible for a part in the will of Mr Seattle. This was like a dream come true for Kai since he was the only one without a child amongst his brothers and to add to his joy, he's the first to have a male child.

He couldn't do anything because it was clear that Aditya was the rightful heir to the company. "Well, ma'am, please introduce the young master to us," asked Mr. Andi. Mrs. Sandra turned to Mr. Yosef, but he shook his head. 'Aditya still hasn't come; could he be backing out? Could he have left me and his father?" thought Mrs. Sandra. "Is there a problem, ma'am?" Asked Mr. Abraham. "Yes, my son has not come, or maybe he is not ready to accept this burden." Mrs. Sandra replied with a look of sadness on her face.

I stepped closer. My enormous paws crushed the stones beneath me as I prepared to rip out his throat. “You don’t even know who he is, do you?” the man laughed, the sound wet and broken as more blood spilled from his mouth. He raised a trembling claw toward the wounded thirty-year-old lying in Nessa’s arms. “Look at him! Look at his face, you blind fool! He carries the same cursed eyes your bloodline has hidden for centuries.” “He is the true heir.” My body froze.

She stumbled up from the sofa, grabbed his arm with both hands, and shook her head frantically. “Damian, listen to me. I did this for you. I did this for the pack.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. Every head turned toward me. “For him?” I said. “You mean you found another man’s child and tried to pass it off as the Vale heir?” Selene flinched as if I had struck her. The elders did not. Their anger came all at once. “Do you understand what fraud against the bloodline means?” Cedric Vale thundered.

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.

And at the center of the clearing stood a figure—a woman, her silver hair cascading around her shoulders, her moonstone eyes blazing with power. She looked so much like my mother. She looked so much like me. "Seraphina." The woman's voice was soft, almost familiar. It carried the weight of years, of waiting, of hope. I stepped forward. "Who are you?" She smiled—a soft, sad smile that broke my heart. Her eyes held the same fire I saw in my own reflection, the same determination that had carried me through every battle. "I am the lost heir." "You—you're the lost heir?"

The shadows that had protected him for two decades fell away. Behind him, in the empty study, the wards sealed automatically. Protecting secrets and memories. Waiting for the day when the rightful heir would return not as a fugitive, but as a queen. That day was coming. Sooner than anyone expected. And when it arrived, the Seraphim Court would learn that the "lost heir" they'd dismissed as weak or naive or easy to control was actually something far more dangerous: A queen with powerful mates, deadly abilities, and an uncle who'd spent twenty-three years preparing for this exact moment.

The only thing he was left with was the former location where the bandits had settled. But their camp was already deserted in the mid day, they must have left to continue their operations. As their camp was deserted, he searched every tent but he couldn't find any trace of Summer. He feared the worst already. If she was nowhere to be found it could only mean one thing, she must have been sold already. But, to whom? Who would want an ordinary handmaiden while they had every opportunity to take Astra, the daughter of General Wells who was a famous nobleman.

Gone before she could reach for it. She pressed her fingers against her sternum and said nothing. Knox watched her face with the patience of a man who had arranged something very carefully and was content to let it unfold at its own pace. When he spoke, he did not use many words. "The last time it responded," he said, "was fifteen years ago." His gold eyes moved from the crystal to her. "You're the lost Royal heir. And you're worth infinitely more than I imagined." He let that sit.

I looked at our family, broken, rebuilt, forged in blood and obsession, and smiled. The hidden heir had become the mother of legends. The Reaper had found his equal. And together, with our children, we would face whatever came next. The underworld would never be the same.