••• Thirty-Nine •••

We only truly come to understand death when he puts his hands on the ones of who he love and takes them from us. Not only did death place his hands upon the man that I loved, but he also took the father of my child from me without a single feeling a guilt in his soulless form. For two weeks I have stayed put within the walls of this office, the walls closing in on me as I stare upon the journal in the center of the desk, just laying there, as if Pandora's Box, teasing me, mocking me, trying to coax me into opening it and releasing the demons of so many years, but we both need time to grieve. No matter how much I detest his presence, we are both grieving the loss of our lovers, our soulmates, and are wanting to push away the world when we are expected to make appearances and tell the public our side of the events, of our views, of why our side if the one to join.

Zion lost Sybil and I lost Nixon. Elijah was the one to call me, to tell me the news, to inform me that Nixon would not be returning home. He pointed the gun at Sybil and took her out, only for royal guards to shoot him down, a quick and painless death, but still painful to me. There is not enough time in a life to express the emotions I have gone through since that news reached my ears. The pack doctor was worried I would lose our child, Nixon's daughter, my daughter, our daughter. The pack wanted me to grieve, to take all the time I needed, but they know just as I do that time for grieving was never an option as work would have to be done right away to carry out what Nixon would still want me to do.  Action must be taken now rather than later, but I cannot just pretend that I am strong once more and go and out up with people who will either ask me of how I am taking the news or just watch from afar as they take pity. Crimson Lock has done both, either asking their Luna if she is okay, or watching me for the few moments that I am outside these office walls. Elijah told me that Nixon's body was on the way, Zion at least having that must sympathy for me, to allow me to bury the body of the man I loved, the father of my child, and the leader of the pack I am now not just Luna of, but Alpha of as well.

A pregnant, widow, young, and human Alpha of Crimson Lock, one of the strongest packs in North America and also a rogue pack. People have told me that packs have sent in treaty requests or have sent in news of wanting to hold no ties to a pack that murdered their Queen. Why did Nixon kill Sybil? Why did he not shoot Zion? Zion once told us that he wanted to kill me because it meant more suffering for Nixon than if Nixon was shot. Why kill the source of your demons when you can make your demons wish they had never been born. And now Zion will wish he had never said those words. I had watched a newscast for the werewolf community talk about the assassination of Sybil, how she had tried to talk Nixon into putting the gun down, but in return, he fired at her. They say that Zion does not wish to speak with the public still, Elijah taking over for the press as I have learned that Elijah is Zion's right hand man, but in reality, Zion has no idea the forces he has allowed into his inner circle. What does Elijah have against Zion? Elijah told me that Zion ruined his mate, that he made his mate become an outcast of the royal court and become a disgrace to her family. As for specifics, Elijah said he would tell me soon enough.

With a knock at the door, I know that today is the day I told myself I would compose myself for just an hour. I decided yesterday that today I would pick myself up and pretend that I am doing better than I actually am. With a simple pair of dark wash jeans and an old navy flannel of Nixon's, I am not dressed for appearances, but I know that this pack needs their new Alpha now more than ever. A week ago the ceremony took place for me, my palm sliced open over a warm fire filled with magic as a witch stood beside me, casting the title of Alpha upon me as I could only feel the tears streaming down my face as I thought of my deceased husband. I heard my name in the news the other day, the anchorman talking about Crimson Lock, about how their Alpha is a female human, an age gap between me and Nixon, and how packs are wondering if I will even survive an attack if one happens. An enemy of the crown, but I know Zion will not attack. Nixon believed that Zion would not come after me because Zion should know better, but I do not see his trail of thought. Zion would come after me because he has done it before and has an even greater reason to now more than ever.

"Alpha Maxwell?" a voice calls, the title with Nixon's last name pulling at my heart as I recall so many people calling Nixon the exact same thing. "There is a man here to speak with you." It's a familiar voice calling me out from the room, no doubt the pack choosing a familiar face to greet me in my times of grieving. Grieving and regretting...regretting how little time I truly appreciated Nixon when we could have had the love we had in our last months if we were both not so stubborn and naive. Getting to my feet, I collect myself, brushing the loose strands of hair out of my face as I walk to the doors that await me. Taking in a deep breath, I pull open the door, wanting to do nothing but hug this man and cry, cry for the grief I am facing. Even if our last conversation was one where I put him in his place for questioning my marriage and the man I loved, even though last time he made me so frustrated, he is someone from my past that once put a smile on my face. A smile, something I have not felt since Nixon kissed me goodbye and said he would be home to spend the rest of his days with me.

"Alpha Maxwell, a man is here to speak with you," Terrance informs, greeting me with a gentle gaze as I only wish those eyes that meet mine are of a midnight blue. "His name is Elijah and he says that you have been expecting him for some time."

I nod, wishing Terrance would not call me the title Nixon once held. "Send him in," I respond, trying hard to keep my voice from cracking as I know that I already look like a mess. As Terrance nods and looks down the hall, telling Elijah to come on over, I straighten my posture, rolling my shoulders back as my shoulder blades feel stiff.

A male approaches me, one with light brown hair, a tan completion, tall and toned figure, and a pair of smokey gray eyes that seem to see right past me.  Holding himself composed and a small smirk upon his face, he strikes me as the type that would ally himself with Nixon. He seems like someone Nixon would know from his past when Lillian once roamed the halls of this pack house. It is like some darker force surrounds him, one cloaked in a colorful cloak as he deceives the world. Something tells me that this man has a silver tongue and that I must be prepared for standing my ground and not letting his words invade my way of thinking. If Nixon has called upon this man to help me, it means that he has a way with getting into people's heads.

"Lily Maxwell, what a beautiful pack you have," Elijah greets, sticking out his hand for me to shake as Terrance walks away. Towering over me, he is nothing like Nixon when I first met him, how his shadow seemed to swallow me whole. No, not Elijah, not this man who seems like he would rather wear the tights of a jester than the armor of a warrior. "Nixon clearly left a great mind to run his pack." He is trying to make small talk as well as say nice words of the man who died. "Your husband once saved me from a deal with the devil back in our youth, and  I am not making some exaggeration." He causes me to raise an eyebrow. "The world of the supernatural is extremely complex, Alpha Lily, more than Nixon would ever wish for you to know. The dark powers out there are not to simply overlook and many parents try to raise their children thinking that these dark forces are just fantasy."

"What did you wish to speak to me about, Elijah?"I ask, holding my chin high as I need to steer him on track. "Is it upon the subject of making sure Zion no longer wears the crown of a King but of a deceiver and greedy bastard?"

Elijah smiles, his pearly whites on display as we enter the office of Nixon, Elijah taking a sea upon one of the couches as I rather stand. "Sybil was a friend of mine you know, an innocent little mind as I took pity on her." Because she knew nothing of Zion's true colors. "Zion grieved her death, do not get me wrong, but he has been over her death for a few days now."

"You're saying that we need to get on track and release the black book then," I bring forth, crossing my arms as Elijah shakes his head.

"Not that weapon, not yet, for you waste your most powerful weapon on the weakest enemy forces. It's like a game, Lily, how you do not use your queen right away, but keep her protected and then when it is time to put the king in checkmate, then you whip her out and make sure that the king can never escape."

"This is not some game of chess. My husband did not see life as some little game of chess, Elijah, and neither do I."

"People take pity on the pregnant, Lily," Elijah points out, motioning to my stomach. "But they do not like it when the child of the man who murdered their beloved queen may seek revenge."

"I do not plan on raising my daughter to seek revenge on anyone. I am the one to seek revenge, but my child will never want that."

"Would you like to know that the last one to assassinate someone of the royal family, his whole family was decapitated and the man's pregnant daughter, her child was ripped out of her womb while the mother was awake, watching it all unfold before she too died."

"You are in my domain, Elijah," I snap, wishing I had a wolf of my own.

"And you need me to seek the revenge that you want."

He is right, I need him. He has the connections, the influence, a seat in the inner circle.

"Who are the people that stand behind us, who wish to also see the downfall of Zion?"

Elijah chuckles, shaking his head, as if he cannot wait to tell me what news lies at the tip of his tongue. Getting to his feet, Elijah walks to the bookshelf upon one of the walls, a map of Northern America, each pack in the region mapped out. Taking the casing off of the map and walking over to the desk, he grabs a fountain pen, looking up to me briefly as a smile crosses his lips. Circling multiple pack  territories, I watch as the territories grow in number, more than I had expected, and as he puts the pen away and turns to me, Elijah picks up the map and displays it to me.

"Let me just say, Alpha Lily, that if you are willing and determined enough to see Zion put to and end and a new order set in place, you would have enough people in the palm of your hand to form a Kingdom of rogue packs, and that the title of Alpha that you now have, it could chance to Queen with a simple Treaty unifying all of these packs."

My eyes widen as my heart pounds in my chest, the support more than I had ever hoped for as I feel a movement in my womb, my daughter lightly kicking the side of my stomach as for the first time since I received the news of Nixon's passing, I feel like I have a bigger purpose in life than worrying about my own.

"It means war," I point out, thinking rationally rather than letting my emotions get in the way. "It means that Zion will send armies to fight-

"Armies that are about to be tired of fighting his battles," Elijah interrupts, "armies ready to follow a new leader."

I shake my head. "I would not want that much power."

Elijah laughs. "You married Nixon Maxwell, Lily, a war lord who made an empire off of treaties. You married someone with power in their blood. At least you want to watch Zion fall from his throne."

"You are Zion's Brutus, aren't you, his Judas?" Elijah nods.

"And you are the knife I use to stab him and the gold I use to betray him. You make our cause whole. The moment that your child is born, you will watch Zion realize the grave he dug himself into."

I take in a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I can feel time passing. "Promise me one thing from all of this."

"A promise is a dangerous thing to ask, but I will try my best."

"Promise me that when this is all said and done, that my daughter, this precocious and innocent child to be born, that if I do not make it, that she does."

Elijah nods, getting onto his knees as he is placing himself under my rule as he does so, allowing myself to hold the higher power here. "I promise."

<><>

Elijah told me a few days ago of the relationship he had with Nixon, one of brotherhood and protection as Nixon saved his ass more than a handful of times and Elijah was always willing to repay him. Elijah told me of a time when he knew Nixon as a young male discovering what he wanted to do with his life, as he pondered if leading a pack was truly what he wanted to do. Growing up the son of a mighty Alpha that held tense ties to the crown, he was taught that the only way to truly rule a group of people was by fear if you wanted anything done right. When people think that their life is on the line, they begin to do everything to the best of their ability, and if there is talk of an uprising, then you make sure you hold ties so that people know an uprising will end with their lives taken from them. Nixon's father was brutal, raising Nixon up on those ideals for life as Nixon at first, did not want to rule Crimson Lock as his father did. His mother always told him that ruling with fear would mean he would make enemies and that if he truly wanted to do what was best with his life, he would go off to school, to go to a human university and submerge himself in the culture of a weaker race and learn how the weaker mindsets crumble under fear. After a brutal raid that left Crimson Lock with fifteen deceased warriors and five young children, Nixon's father, raging with hate and anger, ordered the death of every member of the pack responsible. Nixon's father wanted to make sure everyone knew not to pay a single hand on Crimson Lock, and in the end, he accomplished his goal. Nixon, at the age of sixteen, was placed on the battlefield that day when he and seventy of Crimson Lock's best warriors attack the neighboring pack that had attacked. Nixon had told Elijah of that day, as he witnessed what bloodshed truly look like, why his mother feared it, why his father bathed in it, and when ruling a pack with a weak mind looked like. Nixon had made his first slaughters that day, a sense of bloodlust in his veins as he took home the most kills for someone below twenty in the history of Crimson Lock, his hands bathed in blood, hair soaked in the crimson color, and a certain glow in his eyes as he picked his side for his future, ruling with an iron fist.

Elijah said that was just the tip of the iceberg of the past of the man who I loved. The man who would stand beside me on these morning as I got ready, telling me how happy he was to have me in his life. Looking to the women before me, my locks brush just past my shoulders, d ark red locks replacing the platinum ones from before, matching the dull spark my eyes hold. A class red color, one that looks natural more than anything, aiding the paler completion of my skin as the bright lights of the bathroom appear to make my skin white as snow.

Taking in a deep breath, I tilt my head up, holding it high as the black material of my dress is focused on. Brushing off any loose hairs, the dress looks classy and simply, a solid color of black with lace sleeves that brush just past my wrists, a neckline that displays my collarbones, and reaching just the tip of my knees as it gently hugs my body, displaying my maternity as my bump has become more noticeable. If anything, I never thought I would wear this dress, buying it simply because of how many classy events the Alpha and Luna are expected to attend, my mind thinking I would wear this in my pregnancy for a dinner for the warriors or elders of the pack. Never did I think I would be wearing this dress to my husband's funereal. Taking the elegant piece of jewelry into my hands, tears begin to form as I remember almost a year ago when Nixon pulled out this gift for me in the pale moonlight of the night, the sheets rapped around my legs, and my hair all messy. He had helped me place it around my neck, a simple silver chain with a teardrop sapphire pendent. And now  I wear it again, a gift of the man to be buried today in the pack cemetery, the same day that the kingdom is burying their Queen in some elaborate ceremony with elves. Elijah will be back at the palace today, to help support a man he is deceiving in a time of manipulation.

As I am ready to go, it is hard to move my feet, hard to think about walking up to the grave of my husband as I know that life can only get harder. Until I give birth, every action taken will be one of strategy and gaining followers, only whispers of a rebellion on the rise, hardly of any concern to Zion or for me to make a single appearance. Once this child is welcomed into a tainted and wicked world, that is the moment I will find myself at those round tables, discussing treaties and actions to be taken as I know I may just find myself submerging myself in the darkness Elijah speaks of. He talks of a darkness that not even Zion would dare touch, an unstoppable force that would cause a great man to lose his mind and a foolish man to sell his soul. Elijah told me that Lillian once partook in a form of black magic, using it in battles as a way to fuel her rush of adrenaline as well as give her enemies a surprise.

With my pace catching up to the racing of my mind, I find myself at the top of the stairs, looking down into the foyer of the house Nixon built for us, Terrance standing by the door with three other warriors. Nixon had placed Terrance in the role of keeping me safe, surprising me as there once a day when I thought Nixon would go and harm Terrance. But here I stand correct at the end of so many things, Terrance placed as someone to keep me safe as I know Nixon only picked those he found true protectors to watch over me. Nixon picked the best of the best, putting a old feud behind him as he knew what was best for my safety.

As I find myself following these warriors out the front door and into the chilling winter weather, one of the warriors, a female with a tall and toned figure, places a winter coat around my shoulders, helping me into the black car awaiting me just a few feet from the grand entrance of the house. Sliding into the leather interior of the car, the two warriors join me as Terrance and another hop into a car behind mine, as if expecting some attack. "Alpha Maxwell?"

I look up to the female calling me by my title, making my heart tighten as I think of those navy blue eyes. "Please, just Lily," I reply, offering her a gentle smile as the female warrior simply nods her head. With her raven locks pinned back in a tight bun, while she looks funereal ready, I know she has weapons stored in the black jacket she wears, the sleek pants not for fashion, but for flexibility to attack. She is ready for something bad to happen.

"Alpha Lily, I would just like to inform you that while this may be a moment of grieving for the entire pack, I know it is even more of a heartache for you and I would just like to extend my sympathies and let you know that you husband believed in me when others would not. Alpha Maxwell let me become a female warrior, seeing the sexist decision of the head warrior as he believed I was better than half the male warriors combined." For the first time in many painful moments of these past weeks, I find myself genuinely smiling, learning of a time my husband had a piece of humanity in him. It was a moments like that, memories of that with Nixon that made me love him even more. "Your husband recognized hard work and integrity and I am more than willing to serve the rest of my career under your reign."

My eyes begin to water, my heart pounding in my chest as I nod. "Thank you," I reply, my fingers wiping away a stray tear fast as I look out the window as snow covers the earth. "What is you name?"

"Daisy, Alpha Lily," she responds, taking from the pocket of her jacket a small tissue, handing it to me as I thank her. Wiping away more tears, I focus my gaze on the outside world from the car, to the white sheets of snow, the trees with no leaves, the gray skies, and the black birds that fly above.

The man I married was so much more than an Alpha, but a man who saw past what others could, seeing into the soul. Sure, morals may have been twisted and contorted to fit his worldview, to fit how he ruled his pack and did business, but even then, Nixon held qualities that make me see him not just as strong, but vulnerable and full of emotions other than hate. I remember the first time he laughed, how it sounded like a melody of sweet music, casting a spell on me as I wanted nothing more than to bury myself into his world and get to see him for his true colors, to see his naked soul and know every detail of his character. He was a hurricane, a small piece of him the eye of the storm, but I was a solid force that truly would make people ask what happens when an unmovable force meets an unstoppable force.

"Alpha Lily, we are here."

As the door opens and the cold wind meets my skin, I am helped out of the car, surrounded by familiar faces, figures dressed in black, and an opening for me to walk through the crowd to where the man that married Nixon and I stands before a midnight blue casket. Holding my head high, I know the pack is just like me, unstable and crumbling as we mourn the same man. I know I must put on some mask and play the role of another strong Alpha, but maybe for a change, what this pack has been waiting for is an Alpha born with innate qualities of weakness. A human Alpha is perhaps what this pack needs for a new era, to have an Alpha that will display their sorrows, that will display their happiness, and will see them as family as I place my trust in them as they do for me. Nixon ruled with an iron fist and that made them fear him just as he wanted, but that was a different time for this pack, when they were ruled by a warlord and not a human. They have lost their Alpha and they are in mourning just like me.

Waking through the crowd, a handful of tears escape, falling down as I hold in the shaky sobs that threaten to break loose. Holding my head high in some miraculous way, I know eyes are on me as I walk to the casket, my fingers playing with the ring around my finger as the priest meets me before a hole dug into the ground.

"Ladies and gentlemen, warriors, elders, caretakers, pack members, and Alpha Lily Maxwell, we are gathered here today to remember the life of Alpha Nixon Maxwell, a powerful and wise man, an Alpha, friend, brother, husband, and future father that will be forever missed as he was taken from this earth by Selene." I drown out the priest with the memories of Nixon, with the memories of him laughing with me, holding me tight after an attack, kissing me softly, telling me how happy he was to be with me, and loving me every moment we spent together.

I cover my mouth as a sob escapes, my knees felling weak as I want to break down here and curse Zion for taking my husband from me.

"As a child, Nixon was bright and determined to learn, constantly asking his father to show him the ropes of becoming a strong Alpha. Even then he knew that he wanted to make Crimson Lock a pack that would be respected for decades to come."

They leave out fractions of his life because they know talking of darker moments will be of no respect here today. I already expect for this priest to leave out a huge portion of Nixon's later years, of how he did things listed in a black book that not even I have dared to open. They will not talk of Lillian, of Zion, or of morals when it comes to murder and justice. They want to highlight the good parts of Nixon, to photoshop out the blemishes.

"Alpha Lily Maxwell, would you like to make any remarks, to say any last words before we bury this respectful and wise man that you were proud to call your husband?"

I meet the pale green eyes of the priest, my throat running dry as I struggle to keep a collected appearance. "Nixon was the man I loved with every fiber of my being," I begin, the pack focused on my words as I place a hand upon the cold casket where an array of white and red roses are placed. "He was a masterpiece, a force of balanced demons and angels. To me, he was more than some cold blooded Alpha who ruled with an iron fist and built himself upon a throne of fears from those he called his pack. He was once wrapped up in a darkness that not even I could imagine of enduring, but he become the man we remember today because of these past months of him becoming an even greater ruler. No one likes to hear or recall the darker sides of their Alpha, but we can all agree that within the last months of the life he lived, he became a changed man, caring greatly for the pack, looking out not just for his wife and Luna, but warriors and members. He gave a female warrior of this pack a chance to prove herself against people who do not see women as worthy of protecting this pack. Nixon put behind him old feuds as he knew what was right for this pack to survive and be even stronger than when he ruled it." I take in a deep  breath. "This man did so much more for me than anyone has ever, proving to me that no everything it black and white in the world, that so much more exists outside of our own little bubbles. He showed me his world, he showed me this pack, these people that surround me as I am proud to call them my family. "

Looking to the casket, where the man I married is laid to rest as we did not have an open casket funereal, Nixon hating the idea of him as he mentioned in his will as well as open caskets not being popular in the werewolf realm. Where he will be laid to rest is a raised ground, his parents a small distance away, a tall memorial built for them as I know one day that when I am put in this ground beside Nixon, that one will be built for us.

"I loved the man that left this world too shortly, who death placed his hand on and took not just from me, but all of us as well. May Nixon rest in peace and the spirit of him and his wolf be remembered for ages to come."

With my final words, I watch as the casket is lowered into the ground, tears streaming down my face as I know that a pack awaits me now as well as a duty of justice. Somehow, I know that even as Nixon has left this world, he is looking down from whatever heavens wolves have and has a smile on is face as he is proud of my words. He gave me a pack to run, and I do not intend on wasting any time.