The Mage
1511 Words
Chapter 8
Rome
International Arrivals was crowded, but the Barrington family moved through it with practiced ease, until Michael froze mid‑step. His entire body locked, breath caught, eyes fixed ahead as if he’d seen a ghost.
Chloe turned immediately. “What is wrong, Michael?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even breathe. Concern tightened on his mother’s features, Catherine, as she stepped toward him.
“Michael… son?”
She followed the direction of his stare, and her breath left her. Her eyes fell on the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. The rest of the Barrington family slowed, turning one by one, elders included, all struck silent by the sight before them.
“It’s her,” Michael whispered.
Ahead of them, the Blood Moon and Silver Moon Packs glided through the terminal like a single, unified force. Their presence was impossible to ignore, commanding, elegant, dangerous.
Samuel Silverton stepped forward, shaking hands with Theodore Barrington. “Good day, Theodore. How was the trip?”
“Eventful,” Theodore replied, his tone somber.
Samuel shifted slightly, gesturing to the man beside him. “I would like you to meet Victor Abrassi Reid, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack.”
Victor stepped forward, extending his hand. “Good day.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Reid,” Theodore said, bowing his head respectfully.
At that moment, Elizabeth and Michael began walking toward each other. The pull between them was no longer a gentle tug, it was a force, undeniable and magnetic.
Michael’s voice was soft, almost disbelieving. “Nice to see you again… after you disappeared.”
Samuel’s head snapped toward them. “The two of you know each other?”
Theodore answered before Michael could. “It’s the young lady I told you about. She directed us to your estate.”
Michael stepped closer, eyes locked on hers. “Where have you been? I trained with your pack for six months.”
Elizabeth’s reply was simple. “I moved to Scotland.”
Around them, everyone began mixing naturally packs, families, elders, forming a single flowing group as they made their way toward the fleet of SUVs waiting outside.
Declan let out a low whistle. “I’m thinking the Abrassis sent every black SUV in Europe.”
Laughter rippled through the group.
Great Aunt Marie stepped forward, her voice warm and commanding. “Elizabeth, come dear. You and your friend get into the fifth vehicle. Your mother and I will follow you. It is a two‑and‑a‑half‑hour drive. Let’s get going.”
The group moved with purpose, the air thick with anticipation, curiosity, and the unmistakable beginning of something none of them fully understood yet.
Northern Territory
Damon sat alone, absent‑mindedly turning the necklace his mother had given him, for his birthday, three years ago. He wasn’t admiring it; he was trying to make sense of something that refused to make sense.
That power.
It seemed as if every wolf had been affected by it. Warriors dropped. Elders staggered. Even Marcus, his Beta and strongest warrior, had fallen straight to his knees.
But the witch hadn’t.
And neither had Damon.
Liam had left immediately after the blast struck the wolves, without saying a word. “I think that Witch knows exactly what it was,” Damon muttered to himself.
He remembered the moment clearly.
The force had hit him too, but not like the others. It didn’t crush him. It didn’t command him. It didn’t overwhelm him.
It struck him deep in the core of his being, a sensation so profound he still couldn’t explain it.
He had staggered, yes. He had grabbed the table, muscles shaking under tremendous strain. The effort to stay upright had been arduous, every bone vibrating under the pressure.
But inside?
He felt calm. He felt centred. He felt unafraid.
That contradiction was what bothered him.
He was still trying to figure it out when Marcus walked in.
Damon didn’t look up. “Marcus… I need you to take me through it again. What did you feel when it happened?”
Marcus straightened, remembering the moment. “Alpha… it was as if you gave a command with your Alpha voice. Only a hundred times more powerful.”
Damon exhaled slowly.
That was exactly what he had felt, but without the fear, without the pressure. He felt the force… but it didn’t dominate him.
It recognized him.
Mage Castle
The atmosphere inside the castle was buzzing. The magic world had felt the power too, and the elders were already in conclave. Every corridor hummed with tension.
Liam walked through the halls and stopped a passing mage. “What is happening? Why all the hype?”
The mage looked at him with irritation. “Did you not feel it?”
It wasn’t only the wolves who disliked Liam, his own people seemed to hold the same disdain.
A voice sounded behind him. “Liam, where have you been?”
He turned and bowed slightly. “Sir, I was off on an errand.”
The mage’s tone sharpened. “You have been doing that a lot, Liam. Running errands.”
Liam lowered his head. “I will try to make them less frequent in the future, Sir.”
They turned the corner together.
The mage spoke quietly. “Are we on track, son? We will need the amethyst pendant to overthrow the Mage King.”
Liam nodded. “Yes.”
“Why are you not in conclave?” Liam asked.
His father exhaled. “I think Balthazar suspects me. And he told the Mage King.”
They walked in silence until a rush of mages hurried past them, robes sweeping the stone floor.
“So, what is all the hype?” Liam asked again.
His father’s expression tightened. “Our task has just become more complicated. The White Wolf has awakened.”
“Where?” Liam asked, hoping it was in the Northern Territory.
“Scotland,” his father corrected.
Recognition struck Liam’s face. “Reid.”
“Yes,” his father replied
Northern Territory
Jessica Knight sat alone in her office, the soft hum of the city outside barely touching the quiet inside. The birthday note lay on her desk, the one she had received three years ago. She stared at it, the handwriting unmistakably familiar now.
Morgan Reid. Silverton Beta. Dead. And yet… connected.
Her thoughts drifted to Nice, to Eoin Reid, to the summer that had changed her life in ways she never admitted aloud. She remembered the warmth of his smile, the way he listened, the way he made her feel seen. And now she knew he came from one of the oldest wolf families in the world.
Too many threads were crossing. Too many coincidences. Too many unanswered questions.
Jessica inhaled slowly, then reached through the mind‑link.
“Talia.”
Her assistant responded immediately, her mental tone crisp and alert. “Yes, Miss Knight?”
Jessica didn’t reveal anything yet. Not through the link. Not with something this sensitive.
“Will you join me in my room place, it is urgent.”
A brief pause Talia understood the weight behind those words. “On my way.”
Jessica closed the link and waited.
Moments later, the door opened quietly. Talia stepped inside, composed, professional, but with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Jessica rarely summoned her in person unless the matter was serious.
“Miss Knight,” Talia said softly. “What seem to be the problem?”
Jessica gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”
Talia obeyed without question.
Jessica slid the birthday note across the desk. “Three years ago, I received this.”
Talia picked it up, reading the simple message. Her brows lifted slightly. “Damon?”
Jessica nodded. “Yes. But the sender… I believe it was Morgan Reid.”
Talia’s eyes sharpened. She understood immediately why this mattered.
Jessica continued, her voice calm but edged with purpose. “I need everything you can find on Morgan Reid; he was Silverton’s Beta, he is deceased. Access restricted archives if necessary.”
Talia nodded once. “Understood.”
Jessica leaned back slightly, her gaze steady. “And there’s more.”
Talia waited.
“Look for any connection between Morgan Reid and a man named Eoin Reid. I met him in Nice years ago. I want to know if Morgan ever crossed paths with him… or with me.”
Talia absorbed the request, her expression shifting into the focused seriousness Jessica trusted her for.
“I’ll gather everything,” she said. “But it may take time.”
Jessica nodded. “Take the time you need. I want a complete dossier.”
Talia stood, the note still in her hand. “I’ll begin immediately.”
Jessica watched her leave, the door closing softly behind her.
She wasn’t just reopening old memories. She was opening a door to truths that had been buried for years.
And she needed answers.
- Writer
