"Here we go," he states, pulling out a stool for me at the breakfast bar as the sun leaks through the windows. Looking before me, an omelet is prepared and set in a dish before my eyes, a glass of orange juice, and a side dish of pineapple. Smiling, I look back over to Nixon, wondering why he has made me breakfast the morning he got back from the palace.

"What's the occasion?" I ask, a kiss placed upon my cheek as he takes his seat beside me, digging into his own meal. He's been in high spirits since he got back, high spirits that make me wonder if he has done something to cause this.

Nixon smiles, leaning back in his stool as I await his response. "Why can't I cook breakfast for my wife?" It's rhetorical but I know that is not the reason. "One of two reasons, Lily." Here's the explaining. "I would get us a bottle of champagne to celebrate with, but you being pregnant and it being morning I decided on a breakfast. We are celebrating you being able to keep a treaty with Alpha Cade and Luna Willow."

"And what else are we celebrating?" I ask, placing my elbows upon the marble counter as I lean in.

"I have put this house up on the market because I have found us one about thirty minutes away. Private drive and beautiful house. Right on a lake all to ourselves and surrounded by trees."

He found a house. He's been wanting to move out of this town for a little bit now and I do not blame him. With my family still here in this town I wish to leave, to put that part of my past to rest as I begin a new chapter once more. "Will you show me it sometime?" I ask, taking a bite of my breakfast.

"This afternoon, if alright with you."

I nod, agreeing to his arrangement as I can tell Nixon is more than happy for this house he has found. However, I doubt it is your basic house, because with the description of a lake and private drive, as well as kneeing his taste in houses, this will be some mini-palace. His own personal kingdom. His own little piece of land to call his domain as we will raise our child within that house and watch it grow and become, or at least what I dream and hope for, respected and strong.

Within four hours I find myself looking outside the window of the car as thick trees pass by as we drive down a freshly-paved road. Nixon informed me this house is completely new, just finished with the inside only four weeks ago. As I look ahead to where the road will take us, I see it circle around a modern yet elegant fountain before a set of wooden double doors. As a massive mansion stands before us, my eyes widen as I take in the French Country design of the house with a modern twist. If anything, it is not just some mansion, but a castle on a cloud that Cozette could have sung about when describing a perfected world that awaited her.

The windows, while fitting the French Country type of design, still manage to stretch far and wide, letting me know they will allow for much sunlight and moonlight to flood into the house. With the bricks warm brown and gray colors, the house has an interesting outside design, the garage hidden on the side, parts of the house holding a high roof or rounded walls, the house beautiful as I can see myself raising our child within the walls of this house.

"It's beautiful," I comment, my voice soft as the car comes to a stop and Nixon tells me to wait in my seat. As he hops out and comes over to open my door, I look behind the house, to the lake that is just as breathtaking, just a private little lake that has a small pier with a perfect amount of space for a sitting area. Already I am thinking on my motherly instincts, worrying about how easy our child could fall into the lake, how easy he or she could get a splinter from the wood pier even though I know the type of wood used and how it was produced reduces any risk of splinters.

As the door opens and Nixon helps me out of the vehicle, he wraps his arm around my shoulder, walking beside me up to the mansion as I am still in awe of its beauty. "Ready?" Nodding to his question, he opens up the front door and before us stretched an entrance hall with warm white marble floor, cream walls, and a chandelier made of crystals just hanging from the tall ceiling. One each of the walls, there's a doorway into another room, one of them opening up to a magnificent living room, no furniture, but I know will fit our furniture perfectly. The same marble floors and warm walls, the windows allow the sunlight to flood in and a fireplace is placed before a set of glass double doors that lead out to the backyard where the lake is. "Follow me."

I do, following behind Nixon as we pass through the living room and enter a room off to the side, one will the walls made of only windows, the marble still the same, and we both know what will exactly go here in this large room: the new piano and a few siting chairs for listening to the music. "I don't know what to say," I whisper, in awe of the room. "This place is beautiful." It's like it was made personally for the two of us alone, soon to become three.

With the kitchen next, it is just as beautiful, the mahogany floors polished, dark blue walls adding a different tone to the room, and modern kitchen look with the cabinets and kitchen island making this place feel like Nixon's personalized kitchen. He's always enjoyed the kitchen, even if he hardly cooks, he has always enjoyed it. One wall is just a set of windows, opening up to the backyard as a pool can be seen, a modern design as I already think of teaching our child to swim in the summer.

With the dinning room covered next followed by a few other rooms downstairs that are all just as beautiful, Nixon leads me to a grand hall, one that holds a staircase that wraps around the walls on both ends, two staircases becoming one. A chandelier hangs down low as the staircases go high, the ceiling of this room made of glass as it allows all the light to flood into the room.

"I want to meet the person that designed this masterpiece," I comment, following my husband up the stairs and to the right. It's set up just like our house, how to the right leads eventually to our bedroom. As we come to a set of double doors, Nixon smiles, pushing open the doors to reveal a jaw dropping master bedroom. Where the bed should go, on either side are balcony doors that look out over the lake, a fireplace across from where the bed goes, and a curved wall that allows for a small sitting area that looks out to the forest.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Nixon asks, arms wrapping around my frame gently as he holds me close. As the two of us stand in awe of the house, I find a smile spreading across my face.

"I cannot wait to raise our child here," I reply, my voice soft as I can sense Nixon overjoyed.

"Do you want to see the best part?"

I nod, the two of us leaving the room and heading for one a little down the hall. As his hand take mines and he pulls open the white door, my jaw drops as my eyes begin to water.

Before us lies a nursery, one for a boy or girl as the walls are cream for now, but the furniture of a white crib, a rocking chair, white dresser, bookshelf staked with baby and toddler books, and a shelf by the rocking chair holding the picture of my sonogram. "You did this?" I ask, looking over my shoulder to see my husband nod, smiling as I know all he is feeling is pure joy as I look at the room we will bring our child home to. "You already bought the house too, didn't you?"

"And I designed it as well." My eyebrows raise as I become impressed for sure. "I started on it last Christmas. I didn't intend for a nursery or piano room, but I added those in and a few other parts once we moved in, got married, and got news of our child," Nixon explains. "Do you like it?"

I smile, wiping away a few stray tears as I meet his navy eyes. "I love it. It's the perfect house to raise our child in and spend our lives together in."

Arms wrap around my body and I am brought in for a soft yet passionate kiss, sparks flying through every ounce of my body as all of our fights and differences seem to be in a universe out of reach and far in the past. As Nixon pulls away, looking back at me as I see the pure emotion of happiness held within his glance, I find myself once again smiling.

"When will we move in?"

"This weekend. I already have the movers hired as well. Saturday night we will sleep here for the first time." I nod, loving the idea of this new house that will be called home soon. "I do have news."

"Are you having to go back to the palace?" I ask, tone shifting as I find that joy oppressed for now.

"I'm afraid I have to. Zion called for an emergency senate meeting and I have been summoned," Nixon informs, running a stressful hand through his hair as I find myself nodding my head in defeat. "But I swear to you I will be back after three days. No more than that or I will argue with Zion. He will have to understand."

"Will he be mad?" I ask, worried as I know Nixon and Zion are already not on good terms. Zion may not be a fan of the Maxwell family, but I know that I adore Sybil. Zion and Sybil, if anything, he does not deserve her. However, some could say the same about Nixon and me, how someone may not deserve the other. Let them talk, after all, they have free speech. After all, they only have foolishness to back them up.

"He will hate me no more than he already does," Nixon responds, taking ahold of my hands as he kisses my lips softly. "I do believe that this war will come to an end soon, Lily."

"I believe you," I reply. "I want this war to come to a close and for you to return home and stay home."

Nixon smiles. "I swear to you that I will be back and stay back for this war shall soon be over."

As Nixon tells me he has more of the house to show me, he heads out of the room, me following behind as I find myself questioning Nixon. Not questioning his words or if he is lying to me, but questioning if the war he was talking about was the right one I was talking of.

A part of me fears that the war he says that will soon be over...a part of me fears he was talking about the war between Zion and him. The war of hate.

I only pray I am mistaken.

<><>

As the Christmas music plays in the store, I roll the cart around to the next isle, tired of hearing the same song for the fifth time today. If anything, I am glad this child will not be born in the Christmas season as I could not deal with the pressure of the holidays on top of giving birth. With my cart packed full of different ordainments, Nixon is halfway across town, getting a tree for the house as he decided to not cut one down from our backyard, but go to some 'luxuries' tree farm. With the common theme of gold and red for the house, I find myself in the baby isle of the store, different festive attire for babies as I find myself smiling. Perhaps I will dress up my child in a one-piece with Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer as the design for the outfit. A part of me wants to place a train around the tree and watch this child become fascinated by the technology.

Looking to my cart, I decide to leave the toddler and infant isle, heading for the check out as I stand in line. With my mind busy with ideas about how I will decorate the new house we just moved into three weeks ago, I don't notice the individual calling my name. I don't notice their existence until I find myself cut off from the line as a familiar face stands before me and the check-out.

"He got you knocked up...didn't he?" She asks, looking to me as I have barely begun to show. "He fucking got you knocked up and married you because of that. Wait till mom hears."

A scowl forms across my face as I do not want private matters to be on display for the public ear to overhear. If anything, some of these people are from Crimson Lock, meaning I need to pick my words wisely here.

"Nixon did not get me 'knocked up,' Taylor," I refute, keeping my voice down. "He did not marry me because of the child. We married one another because we wanted to spend the rest of our days together because we love one another. We found out about the pregnancy in a little and we have not looked back. I am happy and Nixon is as well," I inform, keeping myself calm as I need these pack members to still think of me as their loyal and strong Luna.

"You moved away. Dad said that Nixon's house went up on the market a few weeks ago. Leaving us so soon?" Taylor asks, cocking her head to the side as I hold my head high.

"You do realize this is no place to have a private conversation, right?"

She smirks, looking to a few of the audience around who try and act like they are not listening or noticing our dispute. "Why not just let the whole world know that the man you are fucking killed Gavin."

The last straw.

Abandoning my cart, I grab my sister's arm tight, pulling her with me out of the store as my anger levels only rise. "You have no place to say those things," I snap, letting go of her arm as I know now that the pack will have a few things to judge about me, one being if I am defending a murderer. Perhaps another that they are judging is how I handle a sister who I have become almost enemies with. "You have no place talking to me."

"Because you're some high up woman in society. Just because your baby daddy is rich doesn't mean you're instantly sophisticated and cannot associate yourself with me."

"This isn't helping whatever relationship have left as sisters if there was anything to salvage," I comment, crossing my arms as Taylor glances to my stomach.

"Have fun with your man, Lily, because I bet he's banging his secretary while you're pregnant," Taylor hisses, her words harsh as she reminds me of a baby snake. Baby snakes cannot control their venom well, and just like a baby snake, Taylor is unable to control the words that come from her mouth. I watch as the baby snake storms off, slithering away as I find myself heading back inside to my cart, forcing a kind smile upon my face to fellow pack members as they wonder what has happened. Grabbing my cart, I head to check out, my palms becoming sweaty as I think of Nixon. No doubt he will hear about this in the pack drama...no doubt that people will talk about their Luna having family issues.

As I hop into my car with the bags all loaded up, I back out of the parking lot, driving off as I try and push Taylor out of my head. I did abandon her throughout last year many times, even when she was raped, but she was going off even after and partying, landing me even in the police department, only for Nixon to get me out. We were miserable to one another and when she was with Gavin, when she was with him she became a miserable person. She became horrible and Gavin made her into that while he was also trying to make me see the impact Nixon was having upon my once simple life.

Pulling into the private drive of our new house, I come across a strange sight, one of three black SUVs, each parked outside the front of the house. As I park the Tesla I'm driving and hop out, I see that no one is inside the cars; however, navy and silver flags are placed on the corner of each window as decals. I remember that flag, how Nixon has brought things back with it on the objects. It's the flag of the kingdom, where Zion is king. However, with no one in the cars I begin to question if these people have intruded into the place I call home.

Walking to the front door, I find it shut; however, I see signs of forced entry, the handle broken and the lock on the ground. I move fast, picking up my phone as I dial the number fast. Just as it rings, the door swings open, my heart skipping a beat as the fear rises within me.

"Lily?" His voice sounds, picking up as I am frozen in fear as the male before me I recognize. He was with Sybil when they stopped by the old house. Drexel. His name is Drexel and he here stands before me, a look in his eyes that tells me this time he is here with intentions of harm.

"Nixon, Zion...his people-

"Hang up," Drexel commands, crossing his arms as I take a step back from the door.

"Lily, what is going on? Is there someone at the house?"

"Hang up," Drexel growls, one that sends shivers through me as I feel the fear rise.

"Nixon, help-

I'm grabbed from behind, arms wrapping around my own as I am held back, the phone dropping as I kick and scream.

I kick and scream not for my life only, but for my child's as well.

A black combat boot lands upon my phone, breaking it instantly as I try and figure out what is about to happen. To see if this is the day I will depart from this world. Looking to the men holding me captive, they resemble Drexel with their broad shoulders, tough exterior, and black clothes. "Let me go!" I scream, finding myself dragged into the house, the grand entrance littered with furniture, ripped apart. Holes in the walls, bullet holes in the ceiling, and a man with golden eyes staring at me as he stands under a doorway, reeking of power. Zion.

"Let her go," he orders, the men instantly dropping me, but also applying force so that I land on my knees, slammed into the ground as I want Nixon here. I am a human and these people are not. I need Nixon. "Beautiful house here, Lily," Zion comments, looking around the house as I question if this is the man that Sybil knows she married. Is he sweet and caring around her?

"Get out," I snap, rising to my feet as my knees ache. "Nixon will be here soon and he will not be happy."

Zion smirks. "Yes, he won't be happy, but that is the relationship between the two of us. We aggravate the other. Like with Lillian, he made me want him dead." My lips are pressed into a firm line as Zion walks forward, approaching me as he cocks his head to the side. "Now look what he made me do. He made me barge in and destroy the home he created."

"He didn't do anthing. You decided on this because you cannot be a mature and good King. Does Sybil even knkw that you are here?" I ask, my tone harsh as Zion simply offers me a sly smile.

Zion walks around me, hands behind his back as I am scared of tricks up his sleeve. "You have no idea the kind of fire you are playing with here, Lily. This fire cannot be put out...this is not child's play."

I hold my head high as I focus upon the child. The child. I cannot let anything happen. "And you're trying to put it out with gasoline," I comment, Zion stopping in front of me as he nods. "Get out of my house."

"It's not that simple, Lily," Zion informs. "You see, just days ago my wife return from Europe where she was placed in shelter from your husband. Nixon came to the palace to harm us."

"And yet here you are, doing the same," I hiss, taking a step around Zion, only for one of his men to step before me. "This is my house. Not yours." As I take another step, a hit comes, landing right at my nose as I stumble back, the smell of blood potent in the air.

"Yes, this is your house, Lily, but I am afraid to inform you that the matters at hand are far more important," Zion states, facing me as pain is all I can feel as blood drips from my nose and on to the mahogany floor. "More important than you even."

A hit comes at me, this one right in my stomach as I find myself feeling emense pain as I try and take steady breaths. This is not just me they are hurting, but my child too.

As my vision blurs and I find my eyes following Zion, he motions to some of his men. "Take it down."

Take what down? Am I now considered an 'it' to them?

Gunshots, his men backing up as I cover my ears, the noise loud as his men are aiming high.

That's when I see it. When I see what they are aiming for. The chandelier. They are taking down the chandelier.

I move fast, heading for the front door, only for one of Zion's men to push me back, right into the line of fire for the object made of glass.

Just as I try and run again, glass is sprayed across the floor, my body in pain as it forces it's way into my ankles, causing me to lose balance, my hands in the shards of glass as I cry out in pain. As crimson stains the floor, Zion and his men head for the front door, the King stopping right before me as his men load up. "Send Nixon a message from me," he behind, offering me a hateful glare. "Tell him that I could care less if you die because he did it to my Lillian."

With that, Zion slams his foot into my chest, my lungs aching as I struggle to breathe. As they all leave, I collapse into the floor, unable to keep myself up as the crimson color around my body only grows and I find myself struggling to keep my eyes open. As the cars drive off, I think of the child within me.

As I try and breathe at an even pace, all I feel is pain as I hear a car roll up before the house. A car door slams shut and I hear my name called, desperately calling my name as I try and form words.

The front door flies open and a blurred figure rushes to me, screaming my name as hands wrap around my fragile body and hold me close. Navy eyes meet mine and he tells me that help is on the way. As he holds me close, my hand reaches up, my crimson tainted hand, my fingers brushing some of his stands of hair as I hold onto staying awake. As sirens sound, Nixon takes ahold of my wrist, unable to hold my hand as glass is placed within my flesh.

He kisses my forehead. "I will kill him."