The Missing Heir

The Gatwick Incident

Chapter 7

Scotland

Back at the castle, the air felt alive, vibrant with hope, wonder, and the lingering hum of what they had just witnessed. A solemn line of white‑cloaked figures moved through the entrance, walking in reverent silence, still overwhelmed by the power that had rolled across the ceremonial grounds.

As they stepped beneath the archway, Gloria leaned closer to Aunt Marie, her voice soft with disbelief.

“Did it feel like that every time she shifted?”

Marie’s expression remained composed, though her eyes carried the same quiet astonishment. “No, dear. That was the first time.”

Gloria frowned, confusion tightening her features. “How? Why would it be different?”

Marie exhaled gently, her tone thoughtful. “It’s the alignment. Every wolf receives their full strength at eighteen, during the ceremony. But tonight’s ceremony happened at the exact moment Elizabeth drew her first breath eighteen years ago. Birth and power met in the same heartbeat. That alignment amplified everything you felt.”

Gloria’s eyes widened as the meaning settled over her. “So, it wasn’t just her shift… it was her becoming.”

Marie nodded. “Yes. Tonight, she stepped into the world exactly as she did the day she was born only this time, with all the power she was meant to carry.”

The Reid's and the Silverton’s filled the dining room with lively conversation, a warm buzz of excitement still clinging to the air after the ceremony. Laughter drifted between the families, chairs scraped softly against the polished floors, and every face seemed brighter than it had an hour before.

When Elizabeth stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted. She wore a simple but striking blue dress that drew every eye to her pale blue irises, her father’s eyes, now carrying a depth and clarity that hadn’t been there before. A ripple of whispers moved through the room.

“Were her eyes always that color?”

Elizabeth had always been beautiful, but tonight something in her had changed. Not in a dramatic, unfamiliar way, she was still unmistakably herself, yet there was a new steadiness in her posture, a quiet confidence in the way she held her head, a subtle glow beneath her skin that made her seem… complete.

It wasn’t the fleeting radiance of a ceremony. It was the beginning of who she would be from this moment forward.

Her transformation was permanent, a settling of power, identity, and birthright, and everyone in the room felt it as she crossed the threshold. Conversations softened, gazes lingered, and even those who had known her all her life found themselves seeing her anew.

Tonight, she wasn’t just Elizabeth. She was becoming who she was meant to be.

Nice

The SUVs were lined up in formation outside the Hotel Negresco, engines idling as the Barrington family gathered in the foyer. The moment they stepped out of the revolving doors, Theodore briefed them, his voice low and clipped.

“We have a one‑and‑a‑half‑hour flight to Rome. From there, another two‑and‑a‑half‑hour drive.”

Michael fell in beside him. “Will the alliance all be there?”

Theodore heard the question, but his attention was split. Michael had asked it — yet he too was focused elsewhere, both men sensing the same thing. Rogues. Close.

“Silver Moon might not make it,” Theodore replied absently. “They’re at a family event. But we’ll meet the Reids.”

Even as he spoke, he was already linking his security team. The shift was subtle, practiced, no sudden movements, no panic, but every guard tightened formation. The family climbed into the vehicles without appearing rushed, though every one of them felt the pressure in the air.

The convoy rolled out onto the Promenade Des Anglais, sunlight flashing off the polished black paint. Two decoy vehicles peeled off first, turning sharply down Rue de France. Another diverted toward Avenue de la Californie. The rest continued straight before splitting again, each car taking a different route, weaving through the city in controlled, deliberate chaos.

They drove in circles, doubling back, switching lanes, slipping through side streets, a choreography of precision driving executed by specialists who had done this a hundred times before.

And yet, despite the maze of diversions, every vehicle arrived at the airport at the exact same moment.

The team stepped out, alert, synchronized, ready.

England

The flight from Inverness touched down at Gatwick with a smooth descent, and the moment Elizabeth stepped into the terminal, the atmosphere shifted.

Two Alphas, Victor Reid and Samuel Silverton, led their entourage through the bustling airport, their presence already commanding attention. But it was Elizabeth who stopped the world around her.

People slowed. Men walked into one another. A few stumbled into unattended luggage, blinking as if waking from a dream.

She wasn’t trying to draw attention. She simply existed, and the world reacted.

Her mother, Gloria, watched the scene unfold with a soft, proud smile. “You are so beautiful, darling.”

Elizabeth’s answering smile was gentle, almost shy. “Thank you, Mother.”

They continued toward the international departure hall, every wolf at the fore of their humans sensing it searching for where it was coming from, their instincts flaring.

And then it happened.

For the second time, something surreal swept through the group, a phenomenon none of them could explain. Every wolf froze mid‑step, heads lifting, senses sharpening.

Elizabeth’s voice slid through the mind‑link.

Not to one pack. Not to her family. But to every wolf present, Blood Moon and Silver moon alike.

Only an Alpha can mind link his entire pack, only his own, Elizabeth is doing it to both.

Her tone was calm, steady, and impossibly clear.

“Rogues. Only two of them. They’re watching.”

The wolves reacted instantly, forming a protective perimeter without a single spoken command. Humans continued drifting past, unaware of the danger, unaware of the power radiating from the young woman in the center of the entourage.

Elizabeth walked forward, composed and unshaken, her presence bending the air around her. The White Wolf was awakening, and even the rogues could feel it.

They reached the check‑in counter minutes before the gate closed. The process was uneventful, but every wolf remained on full alert. Warriors scanned the crowds, humans moved obliviously around them, and Elizabeth stood slightly aside with her uncles and Great Aunt Marie.

Victor turned to her, voice low. “Where are they now?”

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “They’re still there. Watching. They’re searching for you, Uncle Samuel and Aunt Victoria. It seems they only know the two of you.”

Samuel’s jaw tightened. “What are we going to do? Try to eliminate them?”

Before Victor could answer, Great Aunt Marie spoke — calm, composed, unbothered. “No… dear, command them to leave. And make them report that the Silvermoon Pack did not come today.”

Both men stared at her.

Victor blinked. “Is the old lady senile?”

Samuel whispered, “What is she talking about?”

Their confusion was obvious, but Marie didn’t even look at them. Her attention stayed on Elizabeth, steady and certain.

Elizabeth exhaled softly. “Done.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “They’re leaving.”

The two men stood frozen, still trying to understand what had just happened, while the women simply turned and walked toward the boarding gate, elegant, composed, and already moving on.