The Royal Heir Book 2 Novels & Stories

All of my life I have built as Valerie Damer is now gone and I have no intention of going back. I do not like being an heir to my father’s throne but if the reason why Theo had done this to me was because of money then I will show him just pathetic he is. I will make him regret and there will be no going back for him. I will destroy their lives little by little, and I will not stop until I am satisfied.

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.

Thalia's eyes nearly popped out of his head as recognition dawned across his face – he'd seen enough signs and symbols in his years to know divine presence when he felt it. "L-Ladies? By all the fates, I have royalty in my establishment! No – more than royalty – Olympians in my inn!" He stumbled backward a step, then bowed low, so low that his beard nearly brushed the floor and he nearly knocked over a tray of wine cups a servant was carrying past.

She slid them out and began to read. The top page was a will. The original Rhodes family will, dated eighteen years ago, drawn up by a solicitor firm whose name she didn't recognise, not Crane's firm, someone else entirely, someone her mother had found carefully and deliberately. Signed. Witnessed by two names she didn't know. Legally formatted in language she had to read slowly to fully follow. She followed it. Elias Rhodes was named as primary heir to the Rhodes estate and all associated assets upon his father's death. That part she'd expected. But the clauses below it were what made her breathing slow down and become deliberate.

Because of what the connection whispered next. The Lost Heir has returned. The words echoed through every part of me. Lost Heir. Not Eighth Heir. Lost. Which meant... The Well Keeper had told me the Seven Heirs were one family. If there was a Lost Heir... Then someone hadn't been added to history. Someone had been erased from it. The hooded figure slowly lifted one hand. The sky above the throne darkened. The fracture across the heavens widened. And a voice, calm enough to chill the soul, carried across impossible distances.

He was simply stating facts, and that made them hurt more. “I want to prove myself,” I said quietly. “I need to. For Adele. For the crown that was taken from me.” Tyson flicked ash from the cigarette. “Good. Because I need you to prove it too.” He looked at me directly. “Do you know about the Black Book?” I shook my head. “No.” He took one last drag and dropped the cigarette into the water. It hissed and disappeared. “It’s a book that holds the darkest secrets of the royal family. It will deliver the royal family straight to my hands.”

He was a ghost, haunting the edges of a world that had moved on without him. "He'll never stop hunting us," Vivian said one evening, sitting by the fire in the new house. Her sister, Elena—the other Elena—lived with her now, healing from years of captivity. "Men like him don't know how." "Then we'll be ready," Riley said. "We'll always be ready. That's what an heir does—protects what was given." --- The second anniversary of Tata Pedro's death fell on a rainy Tuesday. Riley woke before dawn, kissed Kyle's sleeping shoulder, and walked to the orchard alone. The rain was soft, warm, the kind of rain that made things grow.

She waited. She waited until the morning sickness hit three weeks later. She waited until the realization settled in her gut, heavier than the "properly folded" laundry in her arms. A half-blood heir. The Council wouldn't just be angry; they would be lethal. They would take the baby, and they would break Alec to do it. She looked at his note one last time before burning it in the kitchen grate. She knew that if he came home and saw her—if he felt the new, flickering life inside her—he would never let her go. He would fight a war he couldn't win, and he would lose everything.

"The baby is still royal. Still legitimate. That doesn't change." "Actually, it does," the Queen Mother speaks for the first time. She stands. Regal. Commanding. "A child conceived through assault has no claim to the throne. It's in the royal code. Section twelve. Article seven. Any heir born of non-consensual union is automatically disqualified from succession." I didn't know that. From the looks on everyone's faces, most of them didn't either. "That law is ancient," Vera argues. "Outdated." "But still valid. Still enforceable." The Queen Mother looks at her. "Unless you're suggesting we ignore royal law when it's inconvenient?"

I have always been a stickler for the rules. In elementary school, our class holds an election for class president. The teacher ignores the vote and appoints the principal's son instead. I follow the school's rule that whoever receives the majority vote should win, gather all 42 students, and take the election straight to the principal's office to redo the vote. When I grow up and start working, my boss hands me a thousand-dollar expense receipt and orders me to file a ten-thousand-dollar reimbursement claim. I refuse, as it violates company policy. The manager laughs. "Here, whatever the boss says goes. Learn to bend when you can, or the company may decide it needs someone more obedien