My boots sink into the mud, the fresh rain falling down to the earth as I walk through the forest, a few of my men lingering behind as they check the area. Looking out upon the open field, I watch warriors train for the battle, tackling one another as others critique them on their form and decisions between life and death. The witches are in their own area, practicing their spells as Fiona inspects her coven, walking around the spell casters as she often corrects their form. 

Fiona glances to me, eyes meeting mine as her hair blows in the wind, a small smile creeping up upon her face. I can still remember her words from the other day, telling me to never truly trust anyone but myself. I have offered Quinn and Terrance the chance to raise my daughter as their own, outside of Crimson Lock, and to keep her safe if I die. Do I trust them? I barely trust myself in this decision? Terrance was always loyal, speaking from his heart about what I was doing...even when I pushed him away. I trust that my daughter will be safe with them...perhaps even safer than she would be with me. 

Looking back to the forest, I can recall Nixon running through the trees for his morning run, sweat running down his face as his face would light up the moment he spotted me when I would come outside to greet him. I can recall the sweet moments with him out here, how he promised he would build our daughter a playground next to the garden he would grow, and how he would play with our children when they could run around. I missed out on so many sweet moments with him. 

"Alpha," Fiona greets, walking up beside me as I notice her scent still lingering from the night before. Her coven celebrated a night of magic under the moonlight just yesterday, surrounding the flames as they climbed high into the sky. Fiona informed me just the other day that Zion released the curse from her coven a couple of weeks ago, allowing her coven to use magic without fear of their souls decaying. I gave her a piece of my mind for keeping that from me, for that is a large amount of news. For Zion to lift the curse, he must have thought he is safe and Sybil has all of who she once was back. "I hear we are to head out by the end of the week for the palace." 

"Correct," I reply, glancing up to the witch. "Is your coven prepared?" 

"We are. The spell protecting the palace will be hard to break, but we can untangle the magic if you are able to give us enough time on the battlefield." 

Taking in a deep breath, I lead the two of us  closer towards the house. "Much of your coven has perished over the years, are you sure you are willing to risk the rest of their lives in this battle?" 

Fiona seems tense as she pushes her shoulders back. "I will follow you deep into the halls of the palace. It was not just Zion's ancestors who placed this curse on my coven, but the ancestors of every royal and noble who still lives and breathes. To tear down a symbol of their strength and unity will be worth fighting a war. We have already lost so many lives, the rest of them are prepared to be lost as well. Besides, most of us have been fearful of death since birth as our magic has cursed our souls, but not we are free." Fiona pauses, looking at me as we reach the entrance of the house. "We do not fear death." 

"I wish my men could say the same thing." 

"But you can say the same," Fiona points out, opening the door for me as we enter into the house. My lips purse together as I think over her words. "No offense, Alpha, but after knowing you for the past few weeks, I have noticed how you are so willing to give up your life and future for this war."

"That is what all leaders and soldiers should be prepared to do when they go off to fight," I snap, taking offense to her words as we climb the stairs. 

Shaking her head, Fiona takes hold of my arm, stopping me at the top step. "Most soldiers tell their children that they will see them at the end of everything, giving their children hope. You are preparing to send your child to another family in another pack. You are giving up your future." 

I pull my arm from her grasp. "You are saying nonsense." I continue walking to my daughter's room. "Everyone tries to prepare the ones who they love for the worst case. I am doing what many do when they go off to war." 

Fiona does not reply, simple letting me be as we walk into my daughter's nursery to see her relaxing in the arms of Quinn. Pressing my back against the wall, I stay silent as Quinn rocks my daughter to sleep, motioning for me to come hold my child, but I deny the motion. Fiona stands beside me, gazing at my child as she thinks. "You are a human marching towards the palace to fight with werewolves and witches. You do not fear death." 

I keep my voice low as I reply to Fiona. "I learned to fight for what you believe in. Nixon taught me to not fear the worst." 

"You do not fear the worst because he perished in that palace. You think it is poetic to perish in the same place." 

"Watch your words," I snap, hearing my daughter begin to stir. "Know when to hold your tongue, Fiona, or one day someone may step on it." 

The witch leaves the room with not another argument, leaving me to see my daughter begin to softly cry in Quinn's arms. "I'm sorry," I apologize, walking forward to Leala. Taking my daughter from Quinn's arms, I try and quite my child with a soft lullaby Nixon taught me. The story of a princess born werewolf who lost her wolf when a sorcerer cursed her. She was cast out by her family and left to wander the wilderness until she was helped by three fairies. With the fairies she led an attack upon the sorcerer and put him on a stake before her parent's palace, a sign of what was to come as she gathered up a small army of forest creatures from nymphs to dwarves and they attacked the palace. It was a gruesome tale covered in a sweet lullaby with words which flow like honey. It leaves out the part where she skinned her parents and hung their bodies outside the palace gates. 

But the princess was a human, unable to shift, and she led a march upon her parent's castle for vengeance and won. Our stories are not exactly the same, but I can see parallels and find hope in them. 

Placing Leala back in Quinn's arms, I tell her I will be away in town for a little. Heading down the stairs, I grab the keys to Nixon's favorite car and inform my entourage protecting me where I am headed. With the garage door open and the engine offering a soft purr to the silence, I drive off, stepping on the gas as I race down the private drive. 

The twenty minute drive ends with me coming before a place I've only visited twice. Stepping out of the car, I walk across the grass to the marble headstone which no body is placed beneath. Taking a seat on the grass, I lean against the side of the headstone, taking in a deep breath as I try and relax. 

"I am heading out soon," I speak, knowing no one is here to listen, but it offers me a haven, a place to recall his existence. "We will march upon the palace soon and I seek vengeance for your death." 

"Lily." 

A voice I have not heard for what seems like years calls my name. Looking up, I spot my own mother across the cemetery lawn, holding yellow flowers in her hands.  My sister loves those flowers, Taylor often putting them on display in her bedroom. She begins to walk over to me, a look of shock pastured across her face as I rise to my feet. "Lily, how are you?" 

Last time I saw her, both dad and her were kicking me out of the family for being in a relationship with Nixon. As mom reaches me, she glances to the name on the headstone, her shocked expression fading away to one of sadness. "I am so sorry, honey," she whispers, stepping forward as she pulls me in for a hug. "I had no idea he passed away." 

I find myself reaching my arms around my mom, holding onto her with a tight hug as I bury my face into her neck, letting out a sob. "He died almost two years ago," I sob, holding her tighter as I try and collect myself. "There was nothing I could do." 

"Honey, it's okay," she whispers, rubbing my back as I think back to the past two years. My daughter has taken her first steps, said her first words, and will be two years old this coming spring. "I am so sorry. No one ever asks for this." 

The two of us find a small bench as I wipe away my tears and take in a shaky breath. "I loved him so much. I am so lost without him," I cry. "I still have trouble sleeping at night when I think about him. Oh god I want this life to be over with. I want to be in his arms again. He was my everything." My words become nothing but incoherent as my sobs take their place. "I have started to forget that he ever really lived." 

"Lily, your body is here and your are still alive. You still have a life to live," she whispers, trying to calm me down as I shake my head. 

"Things are so much more complicated than you can understand." 

"Taylor told me things, Lily...about the man you married." Taylor would only have told her things about my husband being a monster and me being a snake. She hated me. "About the world he lived in which exists within our own." I raise an eyebrow as she wraps an arm around my shoulder. "His world is much more complicated than ours and I do not think I will ever be able to understand the world he lived in or the life you have been living, but I know you are a strong woman and can still do things with your life. Your daughter loves you." 

"Leala needs a father to show her how to adapt to her true body, her abilities," I whisper, "she does not need a mother who cannot move on past Nixon's death and seeks things." 

"I am not asking you to explain the details of your concerns and worries, Lily, but I want you to know that you still have much to offer this world." I have a kingdom to break down and change, I have a government to reshape into what Nixon dreamed of. I have a broken crown to remove from the power of this kingdom. 

I calm down, my tears stopping as I look down to the flowers in her lap. "Who are those for?" 

"Taylor asked me to place them for her. She comes every month to put them on an old friend's gravestone," she replies. "Taylor moved to Ohio for college, she's studying social work and pre-law. She wants to go into law and help others in domestic abuse relationships." A smile makes it way to my face, thinking of a grownup Taylor going off to study something to help others. She is doing something food with her life. 

Nodding, I watch as mom stands up and motions for me to follow her. She places the flowers on the gravestone of a classmate of Taylor's who died at seventeen. "This girl was one of her good friends. Had a seizure while driving and was pronounced brain dead." It's sad, to think someone this young was taken from the world. 

"Would you like to come and see Leala?" I ask, looking to my mother as her face lightens up. Nodding, I lead my mother back to the parking lot and we each hop into our cars. She follows behind my car as we drive into the outskirts of town. I punch in the gate code and soon we are driving down the private drive. I call for my warriors to leave the house and practice behind the house. 

We park and I lead my mother into the house and up the stairs. Quinn looks surprised to see me again, standing up to greet me as my daughter plays in the corner of the room with her stuffed wolf, the same color of Nixon's wolf. "Quinn, this is my mom," I introduce the two of them. "Quinn is Leala's sitter," I explain as my mother greets Quinn and goes to Leala, taking a seat beside her. 

"She's beautiful," my mom comments, brushing a few stray strands of hair from Leala's face as she looks to me. Smiling, I watch as the two of them play with Leala's stuffed animals and I lean against the wall. This could be the last time in which the two of them meet, for the world of wolves will change after this week.  

Walking to the window, I watch below as my warriors practice tactics and the witches cast a few new spells to use. My mother glances out the window as well, in awe of the sights before her as she sees a woman warrior shift midair into her gray wolf and pounce onto her opponent as they practice. "Why do they practice here? Do they all live here?" 

I shake my head. "They are practicing here for me to observe. They all live in town." 

"Why do you need to observe?" 

Looking to my mother, I wonder how to word this. "This pack was run by Nixon's family for the past six generations, Nixon was the Alpha, the one who is in charge of them," I explain, "when he passed away I became the Alpha and now lead them." 

My mother looks proud, smiling as she looks to my daughter. "And will Leala be the next Alpha?" 

I decide to give her a sugar-coated reply. "I hope so, should she choose to be." 

We sit with my daughter another hour as we catch up a little bit more, my mother asking questions here and there about the werewolf world. A knock at the door draws my attention away from my daughter as I see Fiona in the doorway. 

"We need you in the council room," she informs, her tone serious as I look to my mother briefly. "It's important." 

"I'll be back in a bit," I explain, walking away from what remains of my family. Following Fiona down the stairs and into my office, I see my Beta and Gamma with a few patrol pack members, their faces expressing worry. "What is going on?" I ask, taking my seat as Fiona shuts the door. 

My Beta takes in a deep breath, looking to me as he tries to think of how to word his words. "Scouts were seen at our Northern boarder. It seems that some pack has their eyes on us and has seen our army training." 

"We need to leave sooner, we cannot risk our plans being spoiled due to scouts," my Gamma informs, taking a step forward as I take in a deep breath. Running a hand through my hair, I look outside to see the men and woman training outside. 

My heart beats fast as I begin to think of Nixon, of what he would say, of how he would tell me to go with what is the most right to me. 

"We leave for the palace at nightfall."