The Missing Heir

Scotland

Chapter 2

Scotland

The airplane wheels touched down at Edinburgh Airport with a soft jolt, pulling Elizabeth from the half‑sleep she’d drifted into. Her stomach tightened — excitement, fear, anxiety, all tangled together. She inhaled slowly, pushing the emotions down. She had promised herself she would face this head‑on. No running. No hiding. Not anymore.

The cabin doors opened, and the cool Scottish air swept in, crisp and sharp, carrying the scent of rain and pine. She stepped into the waiting area, her bag slung over her shoulder, her heart beating a little too fast.

The sliding doors parted.

Three men in dark suits stood at the entrance, tall and imposing, their posture straight, their eyes fixed on her. They didn’t speak, didn’t gesture — they simply stepped aside with practiced precision.

Behind them stood her great‑aunt.

Marie Elizabeth Reed.

Regal. Poised. Commanding.

A woman who didn’t need to raise her voice to control a room — or a pack. Her silver‑streaked hair was pinned neatly, her coat tailored to perfection, her presence radiating authority. She was the kind of woman men respected instinctively, and wolves bowed to without question.

Elezabeth felt her breath catch.

This was her new beginning.

Marie’s expression softened as she approached, arms opening just slightly, not wide, not dramatic, but enough to show affection without compromising her dignity.

“Welcome home, child,” she said, her voice warm but firm.

Elizabeth stepped into her embrace, feeling the strength in her aunt’s arms, the steadiness she desperately needed. For the first time since her father’s death, she felt a flicker of safety.

Marie pulled back, studying her face with sharp, assessing eyes. “You look tired,” she said. “But stronger.”

Elizabeth swallowed. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” Marie’s hand brushed her cheek, gentle but purposeful. “And you will succeed. You are Reed. You were never meant to break.”

The men in suits gathered her luggage with silent efficiency, leading the way toward the private exit reserved for pack dignitaries. Elezabeth followed beside her aunt, the airport lights reflecting off the polished floors as they walked.

Outside, a sleek black SUV waited.

Marie gestured toward it. “Come. Scotland has been waiting for you.”

Elizabeth glanced back at the airport doors — at the world she had just left behind, at the pain, the memories, the boy with amber eyes she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Then she stepped into the SUV.

Her new life had begun.

Northern Territory

Michael Barrington, future Alpha of the Twilight Pack, stepped into the Pack House dining room. The long table was already full, warriors, elders, his mother, his sister, and at the head, his father.

Alpha Theodore Barrington.

Stoic. Unmoving. A man carved from discipline and duty.

Theodore looked up as Michael entered. “Are you ready,” he asked, voice steady and commanding.

Michael answered with the charming smile that always softened his father’s sternness. “Yes, Father.”

But beneath the calm exterior, excitement flickered in his eyes — sharp, bright, impossible to hide. For the next six months, he would be training with the Silvermoon Pack. Strengthening alliances. Learning their traditions. Preparing for the mantle of Alpha that would one day rest on his shoulders.

And, though he would never admit it aloud, he was eager for one reason above all:

He hoped to see her again.

The girl with the quiet beauty. The girl with the auburn hair. The girl whose presence had tugged at something deep inside him the moment he saw her.

Tomorrow, he will be leaving for Silvermoon territory. Everything he needed had already been packed, not by him, but by his mother and his sister.

Chloe Barrington sat beside their mother, her expression unusually somber. Chloe, brilliant, beautiful, and unmatched behind a keyboard, was rarely quiet. Tonight, she looked devastated.

“You’re really leaving,” she said softly, her voice tight.

Michael reached out, squeezing her hand. “It’s only six months.”

“But six months is long,” Chloe murmured, blinking rapidly. “Too long.”

Their mother, Luna Catherine Barrington, placed a gentle hand on Chloe’s shoulder. Her elegance was effortless, her strength quiet but undeniable. She had packed his bags herself — every shirt folded perfectly, every training uniform prepared, every detail handled with the care only a mother could give.

“You will make us proud,” Helena said, her voice warm but firm. “And you will return stronger.”

Michael nodded, though his gaze drifted toward the window. The moon hung low, silver and full, casting its glow across the Pack House grounds.

He wondered if she, Elizabeth Silverton Reed, was looking at the same moon tonight.

He wondered if she remembered him at all.

He wondered if the strange pull he felt was real… or destiny waiting to unfold.

Tomorrow, he would find out.

Scotland

“How are your classes going, dear?” Aunt Marie asked from her place at the long dining table.

Calling it a pack house felt almost laughable. This was a castle, a true Scottish fortress of stone and history. The interior glowed with warm amber light from fireplaces the size of small cars. Thick wooden beams stretched across the ceilings, carved with ancient symbols of the Reed lineage. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting wolves, battles, and the crest of the Reed family. Every inch of the place breathed legacy.

Elizabeth sat between her aunt and her uncle, trying not to stare too long at the grandeur around her. Even after weeks here, the castle still felt unreal, like stepping into a storybook.

Her uncle, Alpha Victor Reed, set down his fork and looked at her with a proud, approving expression. “Her training is off to a good start, Aunt Marie,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

Great Aunt Marie smiled, elegant as ever. “And your classes, dear?”

Elizabeth returned the smile, small but genuine. “Classes are good, Aunty.”

Marie’s eyes softened. She had a way of looking at Elizabeth that made her feel seen, not as a fragile girl running from danger, but as someone capable of becoming something powerful.

Victor nodded. “She’s adjusting well. The instructors say she’s focused. Determined.”

Elizabeth felt a faint warmth in her chest. She wasn’t used to praise. Back home, she had been the quiet girl, the bullied girl, the girl who kept her head down, the girl who lost her father to rogues. Here, she was being treated like someone with potential, someone worth investing in, she was being treat like family.

The fire crackled behind them, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. The scent of roasted lamb and herbs filled the room, mingling with the faint smell of pine drifting in from the open windows. Outside, the Scottish wind howled softly against the castle towers.

Marie reached for her glass of wine, her posture regal. “You’re doing well, Elizabeth. Better than you think. Scotland suits you.”

Elizabeth lowered her gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I’m trying.”

Victor chuckled. “Trying? You’re thriving.”

She wasn’t sure about thriving, but she was surviving, and that was more than she had been doing before.

Marie leaned slightly closer. “And remember, child… you are Reed. You were born to walk in places like this.”

Elizabeth swallowed, feeling the weight of her lineage settle around her like a cloak. Two Alpha bloodlines. Two ancient families. Two worlds tied together through fate.

She wasn’t sure she deserved it. But she was beginning to believe she could grow into it.

The fire crackled again. The castle hummed with quiet strength. And for the first time in a long time, Elizabeth felt… safe.