The music is soft, filling in the background as my eyes scan the white blanket of snow outside the window. With my back against the wall, smell of cinnamon in the air, and the twinkling lights surrounding me, it truly feels like Christmas, the season of family and friends as we surround fireplaces and drink hot chocolate as we sing Christmas carols. Sure, I may not be experiencing those exact moments right now, but it feels like that as the jazz music of the holidays plays through the speakers of the house, the chatter from neighboring rooms filling the air, and the smell of the seasonal treats places in each room. If anything, I planned this night, a night I know would be bittersweet due to what happens when I lay my head down to sleep tonight and tell Nixon I love him. I know what happens within a matter of hours when I slide this cherry red dress off of my body and watch the man I love turn off his lamp for the night. I know what happens when the people filling this house will fade into memory, their smiles and laughter just moments to remember, and the house left empty once more expect for the two souls struggling to accept the reality approaching them.

My fingers play with the fabric of my dress, the material comfy as my stomach can no longer be hidden, though not prominent, I have begun to show and yesterday found myself picking out this dress as one from the past years was too tight. Nixon helped me into this one, zipping up the back as I held his gaze with my own in the mirror, watching his movements as he told me that I looked beautiful. Tonight, red and green fill the house, the eggnog served to the guests as I find myself sipping on an non-alcoholic punch,  drinking from the same punch bowl as the children that run through this house. The children here love the house, finding it large as they have toys to play with. A piece of my mind cannot help but imagine images of my own child running through the house, taking her first steps in the living room, enjoying her first Christmas in the walls of the kitchen, and perhaps even running to her father as he comes home from a long day of work.

Taking in a deep breath, I stray from the window, heading back to the lit rooms as a Christmas tree stands tall in the front entrance, monumental as the gold and crimson ornaments hang from precise locations, a golden star on the top of the tree, and the smell of pine coming from it. Back with my family, Taylor always placed the star on top, mother always kept to a strict color scheme of purple and yellow (as the university she graduated from held those colors), and father always found joy in playing old holiday music as he munched on the sugar cookies. This holiday is different for me this year, not just because I celebrate it with a new family, but because this Christmas is not one lit by smiles of my own, but one where a smile is forced and I want to spend all the time I have left with the man that I married.

Nixon, there he stands, wearing a simple pair of black pants, an expensive navy button-up shirt, and a simple watch. I told him to wear more seasonal colors only to discover that his closet was overflowing with his signature color and no color of holiday cheer. If anything, that made a smile grace my face, a smile because that color is who he is, the color a symbol of his existence as he seems to swear by it.

As my arm links with his and I greet the woman he is talking to, a sense of family surrounds me as this pack has become the family I now know. Rather than Crimson Lock being a group of people I could never connect with, these people have become family, the awkward cousins, crazy aunts, uncles who joke with the younger children, and the people I would open my doors to anyway and make a meal for. These people are who I have to surround myself with if Nixon does not make it back. These people will be the ones to teach our daughter the ropes to being a werewolf if Nixon cannot come home and show our daughter himself. Even when hope is needed tonight, realistic possibilities are kept in mind as I wish they would just go away and let me enjoy a night with the husband and our pack.

"Luna Lily, have you two thought of names yet?" the woman asks, looking to my stomach as Nixon wraps an arm over my shoulder and holds me closer. "Any family names to be passed down or unique spellings?"

I find myself shaking my head, looking to Nixon as he smiles to the woman. "We have not thought too much on that," Nixon admits, the atmosphere between the two of us becoming tense as we both know why this is. "Leala."

I look up to Nixon, raising an eyebrow as I wonder if that is a name.

"Leala is a name I have always adored. I think it would fit our daughter perfectly." my heart swells at the way Nixon explains his reasoning, allowing me to see a softer side of him as he seems not the type to think of a name for a child. "It means cheerful and I do believe that this child will bring that exact emotion of cheer and joy into not just our lives, but to every life she has the opportunity to greet."

Leala Maxwell, it has a beautiful ring it to, one that makes me think of spring, of some form of innocence as this child will be exactly that: innocence as she always brings cheer and joy into any soul she touches with her warm smile. Maybe she will have Nixon's eyes, a mysterious look to her, maybe my own, a soft hazel. Maybe she will have her father's bone structure, sharp and strong, adding to his overall suave appearance as well as dominating features; or she could have my own facial structure, more soft edges and a kinder face that strike many people as gracious and caring. Whatever she turns out to look like, she will be beyond beautiful and a child born with a heart and mind to rule Crimson Lock when the time has come to gain the title of Alpha.

"Beautiful name," the woman comments, looking to Nixon and me as she smiles to me. "I must say, you have done a fantastic job with the decor of the house here."

I spend the next ten minutes showing the woman (whose name happened to be April) around the decorations I had placed around the living room as Nixon is left to tend to chat with his Beta and head warrior. As April and I part, I find myself at the foot of the stairs, looking to a familiar face as Terence stands beside the railing. A boy from high school, one who took me out on a date a year ago and Nixon was beyond mad to hear about. I never gave him a second date, entangled in Nixon's life more than expected as Terence became old news and faded away as I knew that I had Nixon. I knew that nothing would happen with Terence after Nixon and I entangled our hours with the other. 

"You look good," he comments, beginning the conversation as I find myself clueless as to how to respond. "I mean that not as a way to hit on you." I nod, knowing what he means, how he imposes no threat to his Alpha. He is still scared of what Nixon could do. Most of the pack members my age are not the biggest fans of Nixon and I together as they cannot see someone their own age with someone like Nixon. People my age within the pack do not mind me, they find me as someone to talk to, but they are not the biggest fans of Nixon as their teenage years were spent hearing rumors of Nixon with killing Lillian. His pack thinks he killed Lillian, but no one has heard the truth, especially not from Nixon like I have. "When are you due?"

"Early June," I reply, looking to Terence, his blond hair brushed back to have a classy look, his green eyes focused on mine, and dressed nice for the event. "Are you at university?"

He nods. "At Virginia Tech, studying engineering. I really enjoy it," he replies, the atmosphere not tense between us, but awkward. "You have a nice place here."

"Nixon designed it," I comment, looking to the structure of the mansion as it truly is a masterpiece to be jaw-dropping. "He wanted a new home to begin his family in."

"And you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, thinking this is Terence commenting on the controversy surrounding Nixon and I still.

"Do you want to start a family here?" By here he is referring to with Nixon. He is asking me if I really do want to start a family with Nixon.

"I would not be here if I did not." My voice is stern now, not liking how Terence is taking this conversation that is supposed to be friendly. "I love Nixon, Terence, and I know that you and many others our age cannot understand that, but one day you will be able to."

"Cannot understand what, Lily? That an Alpha that so much darkness surrounds has married and impregnated someone my age and exp-

"You should know better than to speak to your Luna like this," I snap, cutting off someone I once laughed with. "You should know better than question your Luna and disrespect your Alpha. You should know whose domain you have stepped into because I am not going to easily be persuaded by your words. I love Nixon Maxwell and I made the decision to marry him not because I was forced, but because I love him. I am having this child not because Nixon forced me to get pregnant, but because we love one another and this child is not unwanted. This child is wanted by the two of us and you should know better than to speak about matters you know nothing of."

Terence is speechless, his face having lost some color, and his eyes locked on mine. "You are a guest here tonight, so act like one."

I leave, heading back to the crowd where Nixon stands as I wish I could just have all of these people leave and allow us to spend time tonight with one one else. I wish I could just be a bad Luna and make a scene and force people to leave. I wish Nixon was not leaving tonight for Zion. I wish Nixon and I still had time left together rather than the clock ticking away.

"Lily, you look stunning," Nixon's Beta greets, telling me that I should have Nixon do more work around the house for decorating in fear of me overworking myself. "You should be resting, not baking away for all of us."

"Actually, Nixon cooked everything you are eating," I reply, watching as the Beta laughs, unable to imagine his stubborn Alpha baking sugar cookies and rum cakes, much less frosting the sugar cookies. As the Beta leaves Nixon and I alone, I turn to my husband, taking his hand as I look to the people around us. "How bad of hosts would we be if we disappeared for a few minutes?"

As the dark hallway soon surrounds us as my back is against the cold wall, lips meet mine and I find my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as the bittersweet memories begin. A smile spreads across my face as my eyes begin to water, my hands tangled in his hair as Nixon is careful to not harm me, picking me up as he opens up the door to a small sitting room, the lights off as the noise from the party becomes distant. With my body laid down on a couch, Nixon looks down to me, eyes meeting mine as one of his hands rests against my chest, right over my heart. He feels my heartbeat going fast, as if wanting to escape from my chest as he lowers his lips to mine, gently biting my lower lip as I place my hands on his chest, fingers hooking into the material of his shirt as I pull him close. "I love you," I whisper, my voice soft as I speak pure truth, Nixon pulling back as I say those words.

"As do I love you, every aspect of your soul, every single thing you do, and you have made me fall in love with someone I could have only prayed to the Moon Goddess for."

I smile, a single tear falling as Nixon moves fast to wipe it away. "I want to be greedy and tell you to not go tonight," I explain, taking in a shaky breath. "I want to say that you would be a horrible man for leaving me tonight to go and deal with things bigger than us, but I know that I cannot do that. I want our daughter to grow up in a world where the man sitting on the throne is not someone who prides themselves on the brutal acts they commit. I want our daughter to grow up in a world where justice is not taken advantage of and where kingdoms go to war for things not backed up by individual temptations."

"Lily, you know I will do everything in my power to come back to you, right?" Nixon asks, pulling me into his arms as I find a sob escaping my lips.

"You are a mere mortal, Nixon, not some immortal god that can ensure the future. Fate is a bitch and not everything is some happy Disney movie," I cry, trying to calm myself down as Nixon runs a hand through my hair, my head resting upon his shoulder. "I want you to return, I pray that you return, but nothing certain."

Silence fills the room, replacing the happiness I felt minutes ago, whatever happiness I had felt. "You say Zion has nothing on you, you said that him killing Sybil's mate before her made him look like a saint compared to you." I pause. "What would your own black book hold?"

I should not be asking things like that, things that open up the workings of Nixon's mind even more. "If I die, Lily, do you wish to remember me for the man you spent your happiest moments with, that you feel in love with, or do you wish to remember me as the man that this book would portray me as?"

It is a simple question and we both know that. "I want to see you when this child is born, Nixon, I want you to hold her with me, I want you to hold me even in our old age."

"And I will make sure that coming home to you is my top priority," Nixon replies, taking his hands from mine as he removes the band upon his ring finger. "I am not asking you to keep this with you like Frodo does with the one ring, but if I do not come back, I want you to have this ring to keep on my nightstand." The nightstand where he places his ring every night before going to sleep and picks it up every morning to put on.

The golden band is placed in my small palm, his hands wrapping around mine as I close my eyes and try and push away the tears. "I love you so damn much, Lily, and nothing can every change the love that I have for you or our daughter."

A tear falls onto my hand, but not one of mine, but of the man beside me, the one who tries and keeps a calm and dominant exterior every moment he is awake. "Promise me that you will keep this ring on that nightstand for me to put back on when I return home to you," he asks of me, his voice a cry as I hold back my tears now, knowing I need to not just be strong for myself, but now also for Nixon.

"I promise."

<><>

I can still recall the first moment I met him, talked with him, heard him laugh as the eyes of public surrounded us yet I felt like only the two of us existed. It was lust at first sight more than anything else, a type of magnetic pull that would soon take form and craft itself into something bigger than I had ever imagined. I had friends that told me he was trouble, that he was not someone to look at the way I was looking at him. I can still recall the first time I was enveloped by the moonlight with him, how he caught me in his house, a plate crashing onto the wooden floor as he chased after me, telling me that soon that every piece of his soul and body would thirst for me. I watched as he opened up to me, the two of us soon setting our demons free as we shaped the others world, becoming the only characters in a book filled with supporting ones as we saw ourselves as the only two in the world. The night I told him of the family we would soon have, I can still remember how he hands wrapped around me, telling me he was so damn happy. So damn happy, an emotion we have experienced more than once, more than enough for a lifetime as we each put smiles on one another's face. The day that glass cut into my flesh and another man left me for dead, my husband, lover, and father of our unborn daughter held me as if I was made out of glass, making sure no more harm could be conducted as the sirens approached in the background but all I could concentrate on was him holding me, being by my side in a moment of weakness when I needed him.

So here I lay, eyes wide open, the moonlight streaming into the room as he creates noise in his closet, perhaps in there for the last time as I take in a deep breath. Rising from the bed, my feet hit the cold floor, caring me across the room and into the dim-lit closet as he stands with his back to me, grabbing a leather jacket for the cold weather outside, but leather also to help with attacks from others. Leaning against the doorway, my eyes begin to feel strained as I watch Nixon from the background, his strong build, how he reaches up for a watch, how the muscles of his back move. Anyone would be able to see how strong this man is, the power he can conduct with one movement of his arm, how he could take out anyone with one single punch. He was built for the life of an Alpha, to rule a pack, to use his power, to conduct warriors, to fight men with the same amount of power in their own lives. Looking at Nixon like this, I wonder how I can think that someone like him could never return home from one battle...a battle of monsters.

But yet here I am, questing if the man I claim to be strong enough...will not be strong enough to return home, back to me, when all is said and done. Just like he asked, his wedding ring is on his nightstand, placed right next to his alarm clock, just sitting there, waiting him to place it back on. Nixon leaving his wedding ring here only means that he plans on returning home to me once this is all done, to take on the role of the loving husband once more as he returns from a deadly battle. A piece of me wants to become Gollum with that ring, to all it to take control and corrupt me as I worship it. 

"You should be asleep right now, you need your rest," Nixon speaks out, turning around to face me as I know he is right. My morning sickness began kicking in a few days ago and I need my rest to put up with that. "Pregnancy is not a walk in the park for anyone."

"That's just common knowledge," I reply, taking in the expression running across my husband's face, as he tries to lighten the mood yet we both know that this moment is one that will etch itself into our memories forever. "I wanted to see you off, to not wake up and find you gone."

"That was the plan," Nixon confesses. "I didn't want us to part with.."

"With what...hope? Hope that you may return? With a bittersweet taste is all this moment could become, but now that we are here and allowing it to take place, we are making it seem like the last time we will ever see the other." I shake my head. "I do not want my last words to you to be 'good night.' I want my last words to you to be far from here, years and years in the future after we have built so many memories together."

"Lily," Nixon whispers, his eyes pulling me into some trance as I see them watery, tears ready to begin. "You life does not end when mine does, your story keeps on going when mine ends."

"Don't say that," I sob, trying to keep myself together as I bite my lip. "Don't say those words."

Nixon walks forward, hands taking mine as he helps me calm down. "Your story still continues even when mine as reached its closing line. You have the world out before you, a world of a pack that would follow you to the gates of hell, a child on the way that will continue our family, years and years of endless possibilities."

I shake my head, taking my hands from his as I wipe away my tears and try to not break down. "If you never see me again, know that it is not the end of your story, but the end of a chapter in your story, a new one to begin. New challenges to face, lessons to be learned, characters to be loved." Nixon takes in a deep breath, taking my hands in his once more as he pulls me in closer than before, a loving embrace. "I have watched you change so much in the short time that I have known you, from a year ago you have changed so much, and now look at where we are, to begin a family as a world of endless possibilities await us."

"Endless possibilities I do not want to venture out onto unless you are by my side," I whisper, my voice breaking up a bit as I know Nixon is on a schedule and will soon have to leave. "The world will see you as the bad guy if you die. Zion will be loved and taken pity on, the people will side with him and call him a saint as they see you as a monster taken care of."

"And you have the black book, something you should never underestimate," Nixon replies, kissing my forehead as I hold in a sob. "And those smart enough to see through what happened always know that there is another side to the story."

"And they will pick their favorite side and stand by it," I refute, "the world around us is not accustomed to ways of thinking where they learn and develop their own beliefs. This world is so used to sticking to the black and white of our reality that they forget the shades of gray to shades of red just awaiting them."

"You sound like a poet," Nixon comments, a slight laugh in his voice as my heart flutters at the sound. "The public will believe what they believe, but after they are given a taste of a free way of thinking from the bias of the media, they will look at the bigger picture, inspecting details they never thought could exist."

I hate that we talk of what happens if he perishes and I find myself burying my husband in the ground before the new year has even begun.

"There is a name of someone to contact if things go bad, Lily, the name of a male Zion trusts with his life yet has no idea has worked behind his back."

"Why would he matter?" I ask, seeing that Nixon must be leaving soon as he checks his watch.

"The world sees him as a saint, while in reality, he is one of my greatest friends and has always wanted to turn the corrupt government of our Empire around."

"So now the political side comes into play. What is he to do, change the government and create some ideal kind?"

"Establish the old order of this kingdom for how it was created. He came to me a week ago asking to help you if I do not make it, to help you spread the word about Zion across the land."

"I would rather focus on a goodbye right now than this, Nixon. I do not want this, if it is our last conversation, to be focused upon politics and some old order. Not to mention that you are about to leave because you keep looking to your watch."

Midnight blue eyes meet mine, captivating as they lock with my own, pulling me into some kind of trace, becoming watery as I see a rogue tear fall from grace, following the natural effects of gravity as it comes to his jawline, falling upon his shirt as another one follows. My hands reach up, gently cupping his face as I push off of my heels and hold myself up on my tiptoes. His breath fanning my face, I pull him close, lips pressed against his as I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him closer as tears run down my cheeks. With his arms placed on my waist, he holds me close, careful for my stomach as he too understands my need for us to embrace the other rather than talk of a possibility.

As I pull away, Nixon smile to me, placing a peck upon the tip of my nose. "I love you so damn much," he whispers, a lopsided smile spreading across his face as I remember the first time I met I had bumped into a fridge and he laughed at my clumsiness.

"I'll see you in a few days then," I reply, the words hard to say. "I love you too, more than a poet could ever put into words."

"I'll be missing Christmas with you..." Nixon states, "what should I do to make it up to you? Should I bring you the moon, the stars, the world on a silver platter? A diamond necklace, a library? I am not the best at presents."

Taking my husband's hands, I look up to him, smiling as I say my words. "Bring yourself home, all in one piece, ready for the next chapter of our lives to begin."