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Raising His Hidden Heir
Raising His Hidden Heir

Raising His Hidden Heir

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/ 10
After eight years raising an orphan she believed was a rescue, an Alpha's wife discovers the girl is actually her husband's secret child with her own murdered sister. Betrayed by those she loved, she must now reclaim her true Alpha bloodline to enact a calculated and absolute revenge.

Raising His Hidden Heir Summary

For nearly a decade, I dedicated my life to raising Ivy, the traumatized girl my Alpha husband brought into our home. I cherished her as my own daughter, unaware that the perfect family life Darius built was a lie. As Ivy turns nineteen, the discovery of hidden heirlooms and the emergence of her true scent reveal a sickening reality: she is the result of my husband’s affair with my late sister. Now, I will use my true Alpha blood to destroy those who betrayed me.
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Chapter 1 of Raising His Hidden Heir

Chapter 1

"You are packing entirely too much silk for a northern university, Ivy," Nora Sterling said, her hands deftly folding a delicate, emerald-green slip dress. "The winters upstate are brutal. You’re going to freeze the moment you step out of the dorms."

Ivy Vance didn't even look up from her phone. She was lounging across the plush velvet settee at the foot of her canopy bed, her long, dark legs dangling over the edge. At nineteen, she possessed a striking, almost predatory grace.

"They’re for the frat parties, Nora," Ivy replied, her tone laced with a dismissive drawl. "You wouldn't understand. You were already mated and playing house with Darius by my age. I actually plan on having a life before I settle down."

Nora paused, her fingers tightening slightly against the smooth fabric of the dress. The words stung, a subtle barb aimed at the very core of her insecurities. It was true. By nineteen, Nora had already taken her place as the Luna of the Obsidian Ridge Pack, the last remaining heir of the true Sterling Alpha bloodline. But despite her ancient lineage and her devoted marriage to Darius, her body had failed her in the one way that mattered most to a pack. She was barren.

Eight years ago, when Darius had carried a traumatized, blood-soaked eleven-year-old girl out of the woods after a rogue attack, Nora had wept with relief. She had poured every ounce of her maternal desperation into the orphaned girl. She had loved Ivy as her own.

"I just want you to be comfortable," Nora said softly, placing the dress into the monogrammed leather trunk. "And prepared. The Succession Gala is only three weeks away. Will you be coming back down for the weekend?"

"Of course I am," Ivy scoffed, finally lowering her phone. "I have to be there. Darius said he’s going to announce my official executive title at the Gala. I need to be fitted for a custom gown."

Nora frowned, turning to face her adopted daughter. "Executive title? Ivy, we haven't discussed you taking a formal rank in the pack yet. You haven't even started your business degree."

Ivy offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was a sharp, perfect thing. "Oh, didn't he tell you? He promised me the position last week. I guess he just forgot to run it by the Luna."

"Forgot what?" a deep, resonant voice boomed from the doorway.

The heavy scent of pine and ozone washed into the room, instantly commanding the space. Darius Vance leaned against the doorframe, looking every bit the formidable Alpha he had become. His tailored suit clung to his broad shoulders, and his dark hair was perfectly styled. He smiled, that charming, utterly captivating smile that had stolen Nora’s heart over a decade ago.

"Darius!" Ivy leaped off the settee, her dismissive attitude vanishing in an instant. She practically bounded across the room, throwing her arms around his neck.

Nora watched as Darius caught her, his large hands resting on her waist as he chuckled. "There's my girl. Leaving us so soon? The pack house is going to feel like a tomb without you."

"I'll miss you," Ivy murmured, her voice dropping a fraction of an octave. "So much."

Nora tilted her head, a strange, fleeting prickle of unease brushing against her instincts. The hug was entirely too long. Ivy’s face was pressed into the crook of Darius’s neck—the scent gland, a deeply intimate spot for wolves. And Darius’s hands, rather than patting her back in a fatherly manner, were resting heavily on the curve of her hips.

*He’s just a proud guardian,* Nora scolded herself, violently crushing the thought. *He saved her life. Their bond is forged in trauma. Don't be ridiculous.*

"I brought you a little something," Darius said, finally stepping back, though his hands lingered on Ivy’s arms for a second too long. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a long, black velvet box. "Consider it an early graduation and university send-off gift."

Ivy’s eyes went wide. "For me?"

"Only the best for you, Ivy," Darius said softly, his gaze locked intensely on the young woman.

"Darius, you shouldn't spoil her so much," Nora interjected, forcing a light laugh as she walked over. "We already bought her a new car for campus."

Darius glanced at Nora, his smile perfectly in place. "A car is practical, my love. A young woman stepping into her power needs something beautiful to remember her family by."

He popped the velvet box open. Inside, resting on white silk, was a breathtaking vintage pearl choker. The pearls were massive, possessing a rare, iridescent luster that caught the afternoon light.

"Oh, Goddess," Ivy breathed, reaching out to trace the pearls with a manicured fingernail. "It’s magnificent. Put it on me, Darius. Please."

"Turn around," he murmured.

Nora stood frozen, watching her husband step up behind the girl they had raised. Darius lifted the choker from the velvet, his large hands brushing Ivy’s dark hair over her shoulder, exposing the bare skin of her nape. His fingertips grazed her neck as he fastened the clasp, his knuckles brushing against her skin. Ivy let out a soft, shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering shut.

The air in the room suddenly felt entirely too thick. The tension was palpable, electric, and utterly inappropriate. Nora’s inner wolf paced restlessly in her mind, a low growl vibrating in her chest that she had to swallow down.

"There," Darius whispered, his voice low and raspy. "Perfect."

Ivy turned around, beaming. "How does it look?"

"You look stunning, sweetheart," Nora said, though her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. "It suits you."

"I have to go show the girls," Ivy declared, already moving toward the door. "They are going to die of jealousy. Thank you, Darius!" She blew him a kiss and practically sprinted down the hallway.

Darius chuckled, shaking his head. He turned to Nora and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. "She’s growing up so fast."

"She is," Nora agreed, resting her hands on his chest. "Where did you find such a beautiful piece, Darius? It looks like an antique."

"Just a little shop in the city," he lied smoothly, kissing the top of her head. "I have a mountain of paperwork waiting for me downstairs. Council disputes over the northern border. I'll see you at dinner, my love."

"Don't work too hard," she murmured, watching him turn and leave the room.

Left alone in the quiet of Ivy’s bedroom, Nora let out a long breath. She rubbed her temples, trying to shake the residual feeling of wrongness that clung to the air. She was just stressed. The Gala was approaching, her duties as Luna were piling up, and her empty nursery down the hall was a constant, aching reminder of her failures.

Deciding to finish her task, Nora turned back to the packing. She moved to Ivy’s ornate mahogany vanity, intending to gather the scattered makeup and jewelry. The top drawer was slightly ajar, snagged on a piece of fabric.

"Sloppy girl," Nora muttered affectionately, pulling the drawer open to untangle the mess.

It was Ivy’s lingerie drawer. Amidst the sea of expensive silk and lace panties, Nora’s hand brushed against something heavy and cold. She paused, her brow furrowing. She pushed the delicate fabrics aside, her breath catching in her throat.

Lying at the bottom of the drawer, hidden beneath a pile of black lace, was a massive, custom-engraved silver watch.

Nora picked it up, her hands trembling slightly. It was a Patek Philippe. Heavy. Expensive. And entirely unmistakable.

She turned it over. Engraved on the back in elegant script were the words: *To my Alpha, Forever. – N.*

It was Darius’s watch. The one she had bought him for their fifth anniversary. The one he claimed he had lost during a border patrol a month ago.

Nora stared at the heavy timepiece, a cold, sickening dread pooling in her stomach. *Why is my husband's watch buried deep inside our nineteen-year-old ward's lingerie drawer?*

"No," Nora whispered aloud, dropping the watch back onto the lace as if it had burned her. "No, there's a logical explanation. She found it. She was holding onto it for him. She..."

She couldn't finish the thought.

Desperate to distract herself, Nora looked up at the vanity mirror. Ivy had left the velvet box on the desk, and next to it, the pearl choker. She must have taken it off before going for her run.

Nora reached out, her hands still shaking, and picked up the necklace. It was undeniably beautiful, the pearls heavy and perfectly spherical. As she turned the necklace over to place it back in its box, her eyes caught the light glinting off the metal clasp.

Nora froze. Her heart stopped beating for one terrible, elongated second.

The clasp was not a standard hook. It was a solid gold, intricately carved piece of metal shaped like a twisted wolf’s head biting into a woven vine.

Nora brought the clasp closer to her face, her vision blurring as the blood rushed to her ears. The breath vanished from her lungs. She knew this clasp. She had run her fingers over it a thousand times as a child. It was custom-made by their father, a one-of-a-kind piece commissioned in Europe.

It belonged to her younger sister, Margot.

*No. That’s impossible,* Nora’s mind screamed, her knees suddenly weak.

Margot had been wearing this exact piece of jewelry on the night of the terrible storm. The night her boat had capsized.

Nora stared at the golden wolf’s head, her hands trembling so violently the pearls rattled against each other. This choker shouldn't exist. It supposedly sank to the bottom of the lake with Margot ten years ago.

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