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The Exiled Heiress Novel Cover

The Exiled Heiress

Freya, the discarded daughter, trades her identity for a man's to seize her birthright and flee a hated marriage. At the Alpha Academy, she falls for Fheraen, never guessing her hidden truth could destroy them. When her uncle seizes her crown, Dherael alone stands with her, dragging her into a brutal fight for the throne. Between war, treachery, and an obsession that refuses to fade, Freya must decide: cling to the affection she once wanted, or embrace the mate whose devotion would set the world ablaze to see her crowned.
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Chapter 3

​“Watch your step, Fheraen! You might catch something,” a voice echoed from the edge of the training grounds. We snapped our heads around.

​

To my absolute dismay, the figure standing there was Aevren, my own fiancé. Through the suffocating confines of my disguise, his true character finally bled through. Behind my back, he thought nothing of tearing Ryker down, mocking him with cruel impunity.

Yet, whenever our parents were in the room, he wore the flawless mask of a wise and compassionate gentleman.

​

“I doubt his scabies is that contagious—or maybe it’s just localized to his face,” Fheraen retorted casually.

I knew he wasn’t standing up for me; he was merely covering his own skin after accidentally brushing against my hand.

​

He was right, of course. Life at this academy was nothing less than a grueling dress rehearsal for the life awaiting me. Indirectly, I was being conditioned to analyze future alphas, betas, and gammas from rival packs, learning the hard way how to navigate institutional cruelty. Unlike my days back at the Sapphire Pack, private moments were practically extinct. My top priority remained absolute vigilance, ensuring no one ever saw through the boyish facade I wore like armor.

​

“Ryker, care to wash up with me?” Fheraen’s sudden question caught me off guard. I had just finished readjusting the tight binding cloth wrapped around my chest to flatten my figure.

​

“As tempting as that sounds, surely you know scabies spreads easily through shared water, Fheraen,” I replied, smoothly deflecting his offer. I always made it a point to finish my bathing routine before the rest of the men, usually slipping away while they were distracted by communal meals.

​

“Right, I keep forgetting,” Fheraen clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “Just make sure you’ve got my essay finished by the time I get back,” he added with a firm reminder.

​

Academic chores like that were child’s play to me. With seamless access to the campus network and the library, I knocked out his papers effortlessly. Long before stepping foot in this academy, I used to sneak into the Sapphire Pack’s restricted archives just to devour books. While Ryker was spoon-fed a comprehensive elite education, my academic diet had been strictly restricted to basic literacy.

​

My father had spared no expense, flying in specialized tutors from every discipline to groom Ryker. Meanwhile, I was barred from entering even standard classrooms back home. Father had been terrified that my natural aptitude would overshadow Ryker or threaten his birthright as the future alpha.

Consequently, I was legally and socially forbidden from ever outshining him.

​

“I only just found out you’re slated to be Aevren’s future brother-in-law,” Fheraen remarked, striding over with nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, displaying a broad, muscular chest.

​

“I wouldn't say I'm celebrating Freya’s passing, but I am at least thankful she’ll never have to tie herself to him,” I countered, subtly reminding Fheraen of how callously Aevren had just mocked Ryker’s affliction.

​

“Didn’t your sister have high hopes for that match?” Fheraen asked, his curiosity piqued.

​

“I suspect Freya simply felt she had no alternative. Had I possessed even a fraction of the authority my father wields, I would have severed that engagement myself. I have zero tolerance for arrogant, toxic in-laws.”

​

Swallowing down the bitter resentment I harbored toward Aevren, I also had to project the calm, composed demeanor expected of a future male pack leader. I spoke with deliberate poise, mirroring the expected masculine grace. Above all, I had to master swordplay and marksmanship, because a man’s honor in these packs was still heavily weighed by his prowess with steel—even if, in actual warfare, Sapphire Pack members could simply shift into their feral wolf forms.

​

“You’ll be calling all the shots once you take the alpha seat,” Fheraen reassured me with a grin.

​

And he was entirely right. Once I claimed my rightful place as alpha, the restrictions would finally lift. For now, my strategy was simple: dodge Aevren at all costs and focus entirely on survival and combat mastery.

I spent hours dissecting Fheraen’s techniques with broadswords, hunting knives, composite bows, and spears. Despite his cocky demeanor, he was fiercely skilled—though he frequently bragged that his twin brother was even deadlier.

Every single member of the Ruby Line Pack was drilled relentlessly in weaponry, largely because their strict territorial borders prevented them from shifting into wolves the moment they stepped off home ground.

​For four grueling months at this academy, Fheraen’s constant presence had simply become a fixture of my daily routine. That was until the morning I discovered he had vanished without a single word of goodbye. I checked our quarters, searched the library, and scoured both the surrounding timberland and the riverbanks, but he had completely disappeared from the grounds.

​

“Fheraen’s term here is over. He’s not coming back,” Aevren murmured, approaching me with an unsettling familiarity, as if he could read my thoughts. It caught me off guard; he rarely ever initiated contact.

​

“What, were you tailing me?” I snapped back, my tone dripping with bitter sarcasm.

​

“I merely came to offer my condolences regarding your sister’s passing,” Aevren replied smoothly, though his expression remained completely detached, devoid of any genuine sorrow.

​

A crooked, cynical smile tugged at the corner of my lips. He wasn't mourning; he was celebrating. Her tragic death had instantly nullified our formal engagement.

​

“Shouldn’t I be the one offering condolences, considering you’re the one who just lost a fiancée?” I retorted, my voice turning glacial.

​

Aevren inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he tested the air like a predator catching an unfamiliar scent. His face suddenly drained of color, his lips trembling slightly as a razor-sharp gaze locked onto me. Before I could blink, his hand lunged forward to yank off my mask, but I batted his wrist away instantly.

​

“I recognize that scent,” he whispered, the realization weighing heavily on every syllable.

​

I recoiled a step, certain that my masquerade had finally collapsed. Yet, I forced myself to hold my ground—I couldn't afford a breakdown here, nor could I let him expose me before I was fully prepared to claim the Sapphire Pack leadership on my own terms.

​

“You aren’t Ryker! How the hell have you been pulling off this farce?” Aevren breathed out, his lips quivering as he struggled to process the shock.

​

“So what if I am? I orchestrated this whole charade just to break free from you, Aevren!” I forced the words past my tight throat, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

​

Aevren sneered, recovering his composure with a venomous hiss. “The academy leaders will execute you the moment they find out.”

​

And, of course, he wasn’t wrong. This institution was strictly reserved for future pack rulers, exclusively future alphas, and every single enrolled student was legally mandated to be male.

​

“Your own father would skin you alive if he caught wind of how many pack girls you’ve defiled and gotten pregnant behind closed doors, Aevren,” I fired back, meeting his threat with a devastating counter.

​

“I’m deadly serious. I’ll send a direct courier to the After Dark Pack tonight and lay out every single detail for your father. So keep your mouth shut about who I am,” I warned, my voice hardening into an unyielding ultimatum as he stood frozen in stunned silence.

​

“My younger brother is still an infant; I’m Alpha Nolan’s only viable successor,” Aevren scoffed, his arrogance returning in full force. It was that exact intolerable ego that made me despise him so deeply: reckless, entitled, hedonistic, and perpetually drunk on privilege. Fortunately, the Moon Goddess had shown mercy by blessing Luna Alice with another son, ensuring a backup heir existed should Aevren prove utterly unfit to rule.

​

“Your father is still in his prime. He has more than enough time to raise and mold your baby brother into a proper leader,” I countered, a triumphant edge to my tone.

​

“Get a grip, Aevren. You don't need to feel threatened just because we happen to share classrooms, nor do you need to feel insecure about my claim to the Sapphire Pack. Surely your masculinity isn’t that fragile,” I added, delivering each word with deliberate, calculated precision.

​

“Keep my secret buried, or I’ll ensure your father finishes you off,” I whispered my final warning before turning on my heel and leaving him standing alone in the corridor.

​

That intense confrontation with Aevren momentarily shoved Fheraen from my mind. Because the academy admitted new cohorts twice a year, faces constantly rotated in and out. Boys arrived and departed with the seasons. Yet none of them mattered, because the only departure that genuinely gutted me was Fheraen’s.

​

“Damn it all,” I let out a ragged breath, suddenly hit by the bitter realization that Fheraen had only ever known me as Ryker, as a brother in arms. He had never truly seen the face hidden beneath my mask.

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