"You come here seeking some civil conversation about the events of the days before and yet here you stand, insulting my wife and pack, confessing to us of murdering you own wife's parents, and calling yourself insane," Nixon interrupts as Zion stands where I once stood what feels like hours ago, right under the chandelier that crashed and scattered glass into my flesh. Zion now stands where he once had me, in the range of fire, and he should know better than to do anything like what he has done so far. "Do you intend to try and savage whatever conversation we have left and make it civil, because everyone within this pack is done with the bullshit you disguise as words." Nixon stands tall, posture straight as he takes my hand in his, thumb rubbing against my palm.

Zion's eyes lock with my stomach, the showing of the child within me as he clasps his hands behind his back, knowing full well that we will not kill him. At least not within the walls of the house our child is to grow up within. At least now now. At least not until Zion finds his life ending within the walls of which he grew up in, in the walls where he runs a kingdom, where he lies to not just his kingdom, but the woman he loves in his own twisted ways. As his eyes drift back up to my eyes, he cocks his head to the side, parting his lips as he gets ready to make his remarks. "I come with words of warning to this pack of rogues now," Zion informs, beginning his last words to every be spoken on these pack grounds. "The kingdom I run is one of power, one not to be messed with, one holding an ancient pact with elves and takes care of any threat. If Crimson Lock dares to make any attempt upon not just the lands of the kingdom I run, but upon my throne or life, you will be met with a war so devastating that eons later werewolves will talk of this pack as one that was wiped off the face of the earth."

He threatens once more. He is warning us because he believe this pack may one day find itself attack his crown. He is not wrong, but he has no idea just how close that this will take place. Will he come after Crimson Lock when all is said and done, will those who served him turn on Crimson Lock when they hear the news of their perished King? Not when Zion and the vampires take over the marble throne and make known to every soul the truth of Zion.

"The moment that this pack tries and threaten the kingdom I have guided for years, that is the moment that you shall find yourself with a heir to take upon the name of Maxwell and lead this pack."

"You already tried to cut off my last name from continuing, Zion," Nixon growls, "you came here and tried to kill my wife and unborn child."

"Why kill the man when you can take away all he defines himself as," Zion replies, his tone soft and playful almost. "Why let the child be born into vengeance when you can just take away the world the father has built for his family that is nothing but a memory."

Nixon takes a step forward, only for me to stop his next foot from continuing as I grab his arm, telling him to leave Zion be. "And you failed at that, Zion," I comment, holding my head high. "You failed to murder a pregnant human which must really show that you are not as powerful as you would fantasize yourself to be." You can tell by the way he reacts, how his head slightly pulls back and his chin drops a little. You can tell by these small movements that he is affected by the words I have spoken that target the strength he once believed to possess. "So tell me, Zion, are you here to dig your grave deeper with very word you speak, or do you plan to talk civil as Nixon has already asked?"

"Why take away the life of your enemy when you could make them live a complete hell for the rest of their days."

He leaves, heading right back out the doors from which he came as he leaves Nixon and I beyond tempted to land a silver bullet in the brain he relies on. As we watch his figure disappear down the road from which he came, Nixon and I are left in the doorway, warriors of Crimson Lock watching, waiting for our next move. Waiting to see if we will order them to run out to the king they once served and let his blood cover the road. Waiting to see if we will back down and retreat into our homes and take Zion's warning seriously. Waiting to see if we will chose actions that change this pack even more than it has been transformed in the past hours.

"The next time I see that bastard, he will regret every moment he spent within our lives," Nixon breaks the silence, words laced with a hate that it raw and damned.

Within the next hours of day, I find myself listening to the hum of the engine as the trees pass bye and Nixon as his hands upon the wheel, knuckles white as we head into town. With my hands in my lap, palms sweaty, and mind running through a thousand thoughts, Newton comes into view. The memories come back, the memories of the life I lived here a year ago. A year ago I agreed to the relationship that Nixon and I had just started, lying to my parents as my friends would cover for me. Friends that hardly speak with me because they have moved onto college, onto a life I once thought I had planned out. To study physics in Colorado and spend my days studying, and now I spend myself as the wife of the man I love, a soon-to-be mother of the child I will love, and Luna of a rogue pack that I respect and serve.

As for the people I once shared a house with, where they were down the hall from me and I only knew of the disfunction that defined us. I know Taylor to hate me, I know my mother to be disappointed, I know my father to be missing me, and I know my family to not understand the life I now live.

"Are you nervous?" Nixon asks, the conversation starting up once more as I lean my head against the window. Taking my hand in his, I glance over to my husband, offering him a hopeful smile.

"I am awaiting the news that I will love to hear," I reply, squeezing his hand as I take in a deep breath. "A little worried for how this child will turn out."

"I doubt they will be some rebellious kid that hates us," Nixon comments, taking his hand from mine, only to rest it upon my stomach. "Our child will be beautiful."

"I know that, he or she will have your genes," I add, sharing a short glance with him. "I am worried about tge possibility of raising this child without you, my husband and the father."

Reality must always show up. Reality is not just something you can push away and forget exists. Those moments are for dreams when the world is silent around you. Reality will always win the war as dreams are temporary.

"And I will be there," Nixon states, voice stern as he takes my hand once more in his. "And this child will have not stories to hear about me, but will personally know me."

I nod, my eyes becoming teary as I hold back a sob. As we roll into the parking space and find ourselves parked before the doctors office, I take in a shaky breath. "I promise you that I will be there every morning that you wake up and every night you shut your eyes. I promise you that I will be there to see this child born, to see this child graduate college, to shift into their wolf for the first time, and to marry off."

I wipe away a rogue tear, nodoing as I bite my lip and try to calm my nerves down. "Now, are you ready for the news that awaits us in this office?"

I nod my head, Nixon hoping out abd rushing over to my side of the door. As the door opens and I take my husband's hand, knowing that today we will find out news that will determine many parts of the future. With the doors opening and the waiting room of a posh doctors office awaiting us, Nixon goes to check me in, having me take a seat as I find my eyes lingering in the figure of my husband. Watching his every move, how he picks up a pen, signs the paper, hands the nurse the sheet, and checks his watch. All of these small movements draw me in today, making me try and remember every small action.

As he takes a seat beside me and I pick up a magazine, I try and remain calm, to not act like I may never see Nixon again if plans go badly.

As my name is called after a matter of minutes, Nixon and I rising to our feet as I tell myself to enjoy the moments I live right now. To enjoy the present and take the days one by one. With our arms interlocked and heading towards the nurse that wears a pair of pastel blue scrubs, we head back to the room that will uncover news we have been awaiting for since the news came. Making our way into a room, the sky blue walls surround us as I take a seat upon the patient chair, taking in a deep breath as Nixon stands before me.

"It's good news, Lily, do not fret," Nixon whispers, tucking a short strand of my platinum hair behind my hear. "This news is one that will only excite us more."

I nod, sitting up straight as a knock sounds at the door and a doctor enters the room, greeting us with a wide smile. As Nixon sits down and we get started with the appointment, I find myself staring into a pair of midnight blue eyes that I would love for my child to be born with. The eyes of his or her father would make me happy.

"So, shall I tell you the news?" The doctor asks, Nixon taking my hand in his as we both nod our heads.

"Yes," I blurt, a smile forming across my face.

The doctor smiles. "It is time to start buying little dresses. Congratulations, you're having a baby girl."

<><>

"You understand what this means, right?" I ask, the smell of the fresh paint surrounding the room, the windows left open allowing in a cold breeze as Nixon places the brush down, looking over his shoulder to me as I stand in the doorway. With his fingers stained with a pastel pink hue, his attire consisting of a stained flannel shirt and old jeans, he looks more like your average handyman than a man that has a reputation for being a warlord. If anything, he looks human in this moment, how he wears old clothes that seem to humble his look, unshaven for a few days, messy hair, and painting a room pink as he seems more like a man that my parents would be proud to call their son. He seems personified, as if some lifeless object given human qualities, causing me to realize just how cold he can come off when you hardly know him. "How if things go badly and Zion stands victorious, that this pack will be in for a war that they cannot control."

Nixon places the brush back in the bin filled with the innocent shade of pink, one that reminds me of Easter, a color that belongs in the spring as it represents youth and rebirth. Standing with his hands in his pockets, Nixon takes in a deep breath, shaking his head as I lean against the doorway. "What I will do to Zion, even if he lives, he will not have the strength to be able to come after Crimson Lock nor you." I hold my head high, not wanting to ask the next question to follow as I have been pondering this ever since the news two days ago.

"And what do I tell our daughter when she asks me what exactly happened to her father? Your name will be tainted within the kingdom of werewolves more than it already is." A piece of me wonders if Nixon going after Zion will be a shock to the kingdom. A piece of me wonders what the worst thing Nixon has ever done is exactly. I know Lillian was enough for his pack to fear him, but as for what makes the other packs and alphas fear him, I can only try and push the curiosity away because I know that truth could break me. "What do I tell our child when she asks me why she never met her father?"

Rather than answer me, Nixon walks over to me, a hollow look within his eyes as the topic is brought to the surface. His hand reaches up, brushing the loose strands of platinum hair out of my face as he looks softly into my gaze. As my chin is lifted and a pair of midnight blue eyes hold a gaze with my own, Nixon takes in a deep breath, tilting his head to the side as he seems uneasy. "You tell her about the man you love, about how her father could not wait for her to be born, to hold her, to read bedtime stories to, to see off to her first day of school, to shift into her wolf, to accomplish so much as her mother raises her with every good intent in the world. You tell our little girl about the days and nights her parents felt alive, how we decorated a house for Christmas, did not let obstacles get in the way of our love, and loved one another with every fiber of our existence as we created memories to always have even in the darkest moments."

How do you tell a child part of the truth? How do you highlight the best qualities and leave the darkest moments to dwell behind locked doors that soon enough, they will break through as if demons from the deepest trenches of hell? Do you lie? Do you tell a lie to protect them? How can you tell a lie when your child will grow up surrounded by the whispers of the sins her father committed against the crown of lies that holds a gem for every life taken by that king's hands?

"You tell this daughter of ours that her father was also a stubborn man that hardly let anyone into his life. That her father never found the idea of sharing his world with anyone other than the silence he had built around him. Tell her for how you broke the mold that held my demons in the control of my thoughts and actions, freeing me, allowing me to open not just my world up to you, but also allows you to peer into the deepest parts of my soul and that I wanted to share the world with our child as well."

I nod, tears beginning as I quickly wipe them away. "Why do you have to say those things?" I ask, sobbing as Nixon stands not just tall before me, but vulnerable too. "You say these things and get me all emotional because that's what you do, you open up your heart to me, allow me to fall hard for you as we create just happy memories, and then you talk of a day when you will no longer be here. Fuck! I hate that mouth of yours, how you can make me want to fight for you, to lie for you, kill for you and keep you by my side because I love you and-

"And I love you," Nixon whispers, voice cracking as I take in a shaky breath. "I cannot imagine a world without you, but business has to be tended to, not just justice for Zion's crimes against my family and this pack, not just against my wife and unborn child, but for the sins he has committed against these kingdoms, the sins he has committed against other kingdoms as well. This may be a very personal matter, but it is also more than that, more than just the two of us having unsettled business, but someone has to take a stand and let the world know about the man that hides behind some innocent façade. He married Sybil for her rogue status, falling for her after the marriage. He wanted her by his side to gain the respect of the rogues for this fight, he made this war become deadly because he was disrespected and because of that, hundreds have lost their lives and thousands of families have suffered and wept for too long." Nixon pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down as he holds me close, hand on my waist as he looks to my tear-filled eyes. "I am not just doing this for us, Lily, but for the thousands of others that know nothing of Zion's sins."

"They will see you as a traitor and criminal, not someone to believe," I point out, taking ahold of his hand. "Even if you get Zion off of the throne, people will not believe what you tell them."

Nixon nods, resting his forehead against my own as he takes in a deep breath. "And that is why I hardly let anyone into my office." I raise an eyebrow. "I do not let anyone in because within that room haunted with the demons of who I was before I met you, I have files, hundreds of files filled with all the deeds Zion has committed against individuals and nations. It is a black book, one that is his own downfall."

"I take it I am to be the messenger of this news?"

Nixon shakes his head. "Zion and I were once best friends until his father went away for war and he met Lillian. Zion and I were best friends because we held one another accountable for the other, in a way that we wrote down what the other did, Zion kept score of his kills unlike me, he marked them down in that journal and proudly wrote names and dates in there, information that only he could know, and he worshiped that book. The moment Lillian rolled around, as she tried and turn us against the other for her own personal games, she gave me a copy of Zion's black book while the one she thought was mine was simply a journal my father kept of pack records. She lusted after me because I had outsmarted her. I have kept Zion's black book ever since, knowing that one day it would have to be published for all to see."

"And you want me to be the messenger? To spread this book like a wildfire if you do not make it?" I ask once more, Nixon taking a step back from me as he looks to the room around us, the pink walls drying, the windows allowing in the light from the sunset, and a white crib pushed up against a dry wall. "To be the one to nail the black book to the doors of the palace like Martin Luther?"

Nixon takes my hand, pulling me from the doorway and into the open space of the room. "I want you to spread the truth of the man so many believe is some angel, some saint. I hope that you will, in time, know that not just the werewolf kingdoms deserve the truth, but other kingdoms as well, to allow their eyes to be opened to a man that took advantage of justice being blind and played her well."

"In a perfect world are the kings good and the characters of justice and freedom truly what people perfect them to be," I comment, looking to the crib between two windows, set by a rocking chair and a bookcase already holding children's books. Walking over to the shelf, I pick up the first once, Little Red Riding Hood, bringing back memories of the night I broke into the old house and was sent to grab a plate as part of a dumb dare. Nixon had caught me, chasing me, and what I thought was a night that would end with me behind bars and no chance at university was actually me hearing Nixon confess his desire to have me not just sexually, but as someone to live the rest of his life with, that night truly was the catalyst to the relationship that began soon after. A side of paradise that although had its darkest hours, also had the hours where no darkness could ever touch. "I will not tell our daughter those words of what her father was like." Nixon looks puzzled. "For I will go to hell and back to make sure that you are there to witness every moment of her life that the moon goddess allows us to watch her live."

"Do not say things like that, Lily," Nixon warns, taking my hand.

"And if you perish like what you are trying to prepare me for, Zion will wish he was a dead man the moment he decided that messing with the Maxwell family and Crimson Lock was a good idea. He will mourn the loss of his sanity as I make sure no one every looks up to him again, that he relives hell day after day until his life is taken from it, whether it be by the hands of another man, the moon goddess herself, and even me."

Nixon shakes his head, warning me that these are dangerous things to say, dangerous things to keep in mind.

"I swear to you Nixon, that if Zion lives and you do not, he will wish he was buried in the ground within a casket filled with the very black book he kept rather than live another day."

I hold my head high, taking in a deep breath as I know that I will live by those words. ""He will regret his very existence."