Novel & Cerita Voldemort: Origins Of The Heir

The last time there had been a vampire war, my father; the heir of the purest strain and most powerful coven that walked the earth, had been the secret weapon and the most dangerous warlock. Now that he was dead, I was the last of my line. I was the heir to the oldest, purest and most powerful coven of all time and though the purity of the line had been broken with me, my vampire traits had reinforced some of my lost witch trait. I was the most powerful witch in the world and i couldn't even be free to be it. Generations of spells, intricate wizardy both dark and good flowed through my veins, passed on to me by my lineage.

His body seemed to sag and his voice was weary from all that was going on. The physician shook his head. "The girl chose her poison well. This is Voldemort's root." I stared at him blankly, not understanding what that meant but obviously, the Beta understood and so did my mother as they gasped in disbelief. "What?" My mother gasped. "But that is impossible. Where could she possibly have gotten it?" The physician bowed his head. "From me. She asked me about it this morning when she came to get his medicine. I had totally forgotten about that till now."

Even though I'm close to Drake, he doesn't know anything about their past, while Alice has always been upset with me for reasons I can’t seem to comprehend. But the point is that despite being adopted, they were believed to have celebrated their twenty-first birthday lavishly. Even though vampires can't have children like humans, our history book claims that our divinity gave the queen the ability to have a child who would be the heir to the kingdom. And that child is me now, and I’m hoping that as a child given by the white deity, I’ll be able to celebrate mine too. I am not after the grand celebration though because I am not a materialistic person. What I want is for my twenty-first birthd

I had been watching my 'future fiancé' for a little over a month and he was getting better and better. Thomas Conner, David Conner's heir, was my future fiancé by free and spontaneous pressure. He was somewhat immature, as he was always playing video games or going to strip clubs. He would be 30 years old, but his appearance is rather youthful, which makes me believe that he is going through some kind of mid-life crisis. I see him finally leaving the gym and laugh when I see his face with several bruises. I turn my attention away from him and focus on the man standing next to him, who is practically the image of a Greek god. He was much taller than George, making him practically disappear.

“Crane knows who you really are, Julian. He’s known for weeks. He’s just been waiting… watching… to see who else figures it out.” Julian’s stomach tightened. Aiden stared at him. “You mean…” Oliver nodded. “Yes. He knows you’re the heir.” Clarissa stepped forward, and said in a hard voice. “Then why hasn’t he done anything?” “Because,” Oliver said slowly, “he’s not the type to eliminate the heir. He’s the type to use him.” Julian’s breath caught. “He wants to control you, Julian. Put you in Harold’s place, clean up the mess, and make it look like VanDermere Global is being saved from within. You’ll be his puppet, his perfect distraction while he tightens his grip on the company.”

“A battle between some vampires and werewolves! Otherwise, I am pretty sure it could tell us a lot about the second successor of The Protectors’ bloodline and their legacy!” Now, it was the time for Clayton’s turn to take a deep breath. ‘It revealed about the Protectors’ legacy?’ “We have a very bare information about the second successor, Professor! How do we trace for him?” Professor Hügel inhaled. “We don’t know yet the second successor. It could be an heiress! I am pretty sure that fact since we didn’t keep any records about the second!” “An heiress?” “I said it was my pre-assumption, Clay! As I saw a picture of a goblet from the photo that you’ve taken.”

A hot discomfort rose in my stomach. "What do you mean?" I whispered, before I could stop myself. Beside me, I felt Icarus’s firm, warm touch. He wrapped my hand in his. The pressure was light but steady, a reminder that I wasn’t alone. "Your father was a warlock," Vardam said, as if the words weighed on his tongue. "One of the most powerful of his generation. Unique. A direct heir to one of the most influential and powerful magical bloodlines to ever exist."

Kaelor growled. "They're coming for the baby," Vladya corrected. The air went still. "What did you say?" My hand went to my stomach. "The second heartbeat." Vladya’s footsteps came closer. Kaelor didn't stop him this time. "The healers knew. Hecate knew. That’s why she wanted you intact. A Muse-born heir... the first in a thousand years. It’s not just a child. It’s a battery. A source of infinite power."

As we came to the center where the heir’s army once stood, Raven began to growl, as the ashes began to move dead center in front of us. Raising my hands, I waited for whoever survived the surge of power to show themselves, as fear hit me that it could very well be the heir. But as multiple bodies began to rise from the ashes, I realized that it wasn’t the heir, but Joffrey and his greatest grandfather, along with Mr. Thomas and some of the vampires from the city.

The pages shimmered, inscriptions revealing themselves in elegant, terrifying patterns. As I read, my heart sank. Draco’s origin, his roots in an orphaned village where witches had been burned alive, revealed a story of vengeance and darkness. He had a sister, also killed, leaving him a vengeful soul from a young age. The more I read, the heavier the air became, my chest tightening with the weight of the knowledge.