The Royal Heir Book 2 Novels & Stories

“You mean me?” I nod my head as I reply. “Yes, I mean you, Dylan, since the moment I first met you, there was something so familiar about you, right down to the powers that we both hold. You are my little brother, the brother that I never knew I had, and you are also A Dragon Shifter and Prince of the Dragon Kingdom. We are the Royal Heirs of the Dragon Realm, and Anna is carrying the next generation. This is why we must find this stone; without the blessing of the Dragon heart, Anna will never wake up, and the next royal heir will never be born."

Nothing. She hurried downstairs, skipping steps, praying to see someone—anyone. When she reached the living room, her stomach twisted. The house was empty. Cars gone. Chairs pushed back in a hurry. Breakfast plates already cleared. Everyone… had left her. Her chest tightened. “No… they didn’t. They wouldn’t.” This was the first major presentation in the Brooks family since the announcement about choosing the next heiress. Her parents had repeated the instructions for weeks: Come early, look bold, show the board your strength.

“You know how it is—you’re loading crates, someone’s shouting about rope, someone else is reading out lines over fish heads.” “Enlighten us,” Lena said. “I’m in need of distraction.” Catherine’s needle pricked her finger. A tiny bead of blood bloomed; she pressed her thumb over it quickly, hoping no one noticed. “Nothing you couldn’t guess,” Nico said. “He talked about the prince having to prove himself. All that ‘young heir, big crown’ talk. Said something about how people whisper that he had an ‘improper attachment’ once, but now he’s walking the straight line with his shiny foreign bride and shouldn’t we all be impressed.”

Amaya sighed, then proceeded to tell them. "My mom did." "Huh? You mean your late mom?" Dylan asked. "Yeah," he nodded and sat up. "You know before she died, right on her death bed, she told us; my sister and I that the throne is rightfully ours, I'm the heir, and not Raghav," he gave a cranky look as he spoke. Many years ago, King Neel before he got married, when he was once a youth, had come to love two sisters from same parents. That was Phina, their mom, and Arya, his wife.

The words hit like a live wire: In the event the line of legal heirs is compromised, all designated Cross assets revert to Alina Rivers. For a second, I just stare. Then a slow, sharp smile pulls at my mouth. “Of course,” I whisper. “You brilliant bastard.” Because that clause doesn’t just name me, it gives me leverage over the Cross empire itself. If Nathaniel’s line is tainted, if Elena’s power play crumbles, then everything falls straight into my hands. I lean back, laugh once—low, bitter, satisfied. Checkmate’s closer than they think. The phone buzzes again. Theo.

My hands trembled as I reached for the remote, turning on the TV for some distraction, only to feel my heart sink. On the screen was the Averelle royal crest. My family’s crest. A reporter stood in front of it, microphone in hand. “Breaking news: King Alaric Windsor has officially announced his abdication. The King will step down to be with his long-time partner, a hotel receptionist identified as......" The remote slipped from my fingers and thudded onto the rug. “What?” I whispered. “He… he did what?” Cutting to a clip of Alaric my older brother, the King, beaming as if he’d just won a jackpot instead of discarding centuries of royal tradition.

But then again, he didn't have expert knowledge on the recent happenings, so he was forced to agree. “They’re calling it Luna’s Wrath,” he continued. “They’re wrong.” A chill slid down my spine. “Then what is it?” Rael stepped closer, voice dropping. “Inheritance.” The word struck harder than any accusation. I laughed once. It was sharp, brittle. “I don’t come from anyone important” He keeps forgetting I'm an orphan. “You don’t know where you come from,” he corrected. The room trembled. Not physically, but inside me. The light flared in response, climbing my arms in thin silver veins.

Mara whispered: Bring me birthmark baby, and you will be queen again, not hollow cold. Victoria, who put iron on Elena at 6, who gave Julian compass to cheat, who offered black juice box to Lily, who stabbed pregnant belly, now must choose — Fourteen. She stepped through tiny opening again, real, not dream-walk, because baby blood heir opened for family, hands empty, no dagger, blood tears, brown eyes, wanting 14th throne small near kitchen. She walked to East Wing, where Elena lay pregnant belly sealed, where Adrian knelt, where twelve pure circled, where baby blood heir on big throne, where Julian 13th heir with healing bagels, where Sophia raven feathers.

Black veins were spreading across his skin. He looked terrified. "Selena..." I grabbed his hand. "Stay with me." "I can't control it." "You can." His eyes met mine. "What if I hurt you?" "You won't." The Queen watched us. "That is the beginning." I turned toward her. "The beginning of what?" Her smile returned. "The awakening of the two heirs." The floor beneath us cracked. A second symbol appeared beneath Ian's feet. It matched mine. The Queen stepped backward. "Your father ruled the darkness."

She somehow managed to make everyone from grown men to tiny babies enamored of her. After the news had broken that I wasn’t the true heir, the scandal had been explosive. Public opinion had been split, one side wanting me to abdicate entirely, the other wanting me to stay. Strict monarchists especially had been horrified at the idea that a true Valady wouldn’t be sitting on the throne. Until the public realized that a Valady heir was closer to the throne than they thought. When Liam had refused to claim his rights to the throne, sighting that he was a “bloody American and had no business sitting on any throne,” that left Niamh as the rightful heir.