Things have to look up. Things have to look like they are headed towards the bright side rather than a path I am worried for my child. Nixon told me what Lillian was like, how she was insane, how she hid things from him that would make him involved. Nixon told me the truth that has been eating him alive, the reasons for why he killed Lillian: it was either him or her. They were both planning to kill the other, but the night she finally decided to do the deed, he had been awaiting her.

But now I need to put that to rest. How can I expect Nixon to leave his past behind and forget what happened if I bring back the past and have him relieve it. I cannot keep doing there, where I mention her name and watch as the relationship between us I am trying to salvage becomes even more cracked and damned. For our relationship and for our child, I must put Lillian Rice's name to rest when I talk with Nixon.

I guess that is why I stand here, the pearl I had found in the piano months ago clutched in my hand. Holding my hand above the soil where a hole has been dug, I open my hand, the white pearl glistening in the sunlight as I take one last look at it. This is just a fraction of what Lillian left in her memory, the piano being the next thing to go as I have called in a company to replace it with a new one, this one black and even more grand if possible. Taking in a deep breath, I say goodbye to the woman I never met, the pearl falling into the hole as I kick my boots into the pile of drink to my left. As the hole becomes filled and a small weight becomes lifted from my shoulders, I look back to the house, Nixon in our master bedroom as he's talking with someone on the phone.

He's always on the phone now, taking about the palace or the royal couple as the war goes on. Sometimes he gets calls in the dead of night, waking the two of us up as he rushes with his phone to his office, locking himself up as I am left to wonder what is going on in his head. Sometimes I wonder if something is underway that will leave a bad taste in my mouth and a bitter feeling in my chest.

Heading inside, I take off my boots, the fall colors having transformed this backyard into one of vibrant autumn colors. It's been two weeks since I learned of Lillian's story, the part where she was not an angel, and now I am moving on. In just an hour or two the company will be here to haul out the piano and replace it, the house filled with a new symbol as Nixon and I will try and put our differences aside. We both have a pack to run, one where the members fear him and respect me. We have a pack where our duties are needed and we cannot hold them off any longer. For the past two weeks Nixon has been busy in his office and I have spent my time attending to the pack, aiding the pups, helping the elderly members with their gardens, and greeting families and warriors with a smile for pack dinners. Where is their Alpha? He's not just at his office, not at the one in the pack house, but at home, living out of the fridge and office as he rarely comes to bed anymore. What is going on? I only hope it is good and will not taint our child.

The kitchen empty for the most part, the curtains pulled shut, table holding no mess, and every ounce spotless, it's strange to see it like this. Yes, Nixon has always made sure to keep a clean and tidy house, but since I moved in it had become dirty. Yet in his absence as he attends to work, he finds time to keep this house spotless as I am out taking care of the social rolls. I do not just do my part, but I have also found myself taking on some Alpha duties, even having to meet and greet a fellow Alpha and Luna from a neighboring pack for lunch in the city as Nixon was too busy. Without Nixon, I somehow managed to walk out of that lunch not just with an ally, but with a continued treaty of peace and loyalty all from them meeting me. That was an Alpha's job, to maintain relationships with other packs, and I, a human Luna, did so. That following day I was told by Nixon's head warrior that the pack found me to be doing a better job than their own Alpha.

Their Alpha, a male who is broken. Broken just like me. I wonder if Nixon was always this way, even when he was my age, if he was always cold and dominating, if he ever scared his parents? A part of me wonders how long he has lived within a hollow shell, only now and then leaking his soul through as the weight of the world takes affect. He enjoys the power that he has, never wanting to lose it, for he enjoys the people under him, the fear he can strike in them, and the way that they will always be obedient...obedient until someone else proves to be a better ruler. However, he has Alpha blood in him, making him the rightful ruler of Crimson Lock, yet a part of me wonders if he is slowly losing the right that made him their ruler. A part wonders if his misuse of power and the fear within his pack members has caused a shift in their allegiance. A part of me wonders if I could make that happen.

Perhaps we do deserve each other, how Nixon is insane and I just the same for sticking by his side. But I know that is not the case. We deserve each other because we are mates, because we agreed to a life with one another, because we were once filled with entire happiness to be around the other. Before it was my family or him, we had sleepless nights where we would just talk or stay up in silence as we enjoyed the company of the other. The company of the other helped us to calm down, for the demons building up within us to calm down as well, for them to relocated and not be shown until a later date. Nixon once protected me from a rogue, one that tried to kill me, he carried me safely to his car and helped heal me with the help of a witch. He fought for me, for us, believing that to the of us is all he and I needed in life. He always made a good point, how I felt better around him than with my own family, how he made me feel wanted and welcomed rather than judged and ashamed.

And for our child, for this little precious and innocent little being, they will grow up knowing that their father is a brave and respected Alpha while their mother is a loyal and respected Luna. They will grow up knowing of no demons in their parents, of no stories that include blood upon Nixon's hands and the disloyalty present within the pack. Already the pack adores me, my respect and loyalty growing by the hour as I will use that to my advantage when raising this child. I will use the power the pack surrendered to me as leverage to raise this child in harmony and innocence of the world that its parents have submerged themselves in.

The doorbell rings, signaling that the piano has arrived. As I open the front door and let the workers in, I soon find myself watching as the white piano is taken away and a black one is put back in its place. Facing the same way as the last, polished to perfection, not a scratch in sight, and the brand name written in golden letters, my fingers rest upon the keys as the workers drive away.

"It came," Nixon points out, entering the room as he heads for his familiar seat that faces the instrument. "A new piece of memories." He knows why I got rid of the white one.

"A new piece of memories," I agree, taking a seat on the bench as my fingers sink onto the keys and the harmony can be heard like an angelic choir. Setting my other hand upon the keys, I lean my back away from the instrument, my posture straight as I play the first cord. The song starts out soft, light, and mimicking something you would expect to hear at a happy ending of some Oscar-winning movie. As my fingers place more pressure upon the keys, the tone of the song takes a sharp shift, turning gray and mellow, only to turn dark and fearful as my fingers move fast up and down the lower half of the piano. Sounds echoing around the room, I find myself closing my eyes, body leaning into the piece I play as various cords create sounds of outcry and fear, turning not for the better, but for the worst.

As the song comes to its close and I lean back from the piano, I look to Nixon, his eyes locked upon mine, eyes a dark blue as always, and hands clasped together as he sits there. "I have business at the palace to attend to in a few days," he informs, giving me the information I have waited to hear. I knew that he would have to return eventually, the war taking a toll. "I will be gone for just a day or two. I will be leaving Friday."

"You do understand that Friday evening is when Alpha Cade and Luna Willow will be attending dinner with us, right?" I ask, knowing full well I will once again have to face an Alpha and Luna to keep a treaty. A human Luna doing the work of a Warlord Alpha once more. I must make it seem like complaining to Nixon, but for me, I want him gone. I want better trust and loyalty for the pack to have for me. I want other Alphas and Lunas to see that I am perhaps a force to be reckoned with as I am doing Nixon Maxwell's work. It will be a sign to other pack leaders that even Nixon's human Luna is capable of making you keep your treaty with Crimson Lock out of fear that Nixon Maxwell could one day turn on you.

Nixon gets to his feet. "Did you know that there are some who call Zion the devil?" I raise an eyebrow at the sudden change in topic. "I do not know why they do. He is a force to be reckoned with only because his Kingdom is strong." I wait for where this is going. "He murdered Queen Sybil's mate right before her very eyes because her mate had rejected her."

"Are you saying that is not enough to claim someone of similar stature to Lucifer?" I ask, knowing that Gavin's murder was not as horrible to watch as it must have been for Sybil.

"That is his most vicious crime yet some in his kingdom still call him the devil."

"And you're saying he doesn't deserve that ranking?"

"He's no warlord."

"Like yourself?" I ask, knowing where this is headed: his hate for Zion.

"I've done things to enemies that have sent even monsters to hide behind their mothers like children, wishing never to have seen my face." My throat becomes dry. "I've been an Alpha for quite a few years now, Lily, and Crimson Lock only grows and breaks limits of how powerful a pack can become. Rogues don't attack this pack anymore because they fear being skinned alive and their bodies left to be picked away at by the ravens." This is why our child will grow up in a pack where the allegiance is to their Luna. "Zion is feared for no reason, yet he gets the glory."

It's like he has some sick obsession with Zion, one that makes me fear if going to the palace only fuels it. A part of me wonders if Nixon may travel to the palace and never return home.

"Promise me something, Lily," Nixon begins, watching as I nod my head, standing up from the piano bench as he walks over to me. "Promise me that this child will be kept."

I do not know what to think. To think of he thinks me to be like Lillian or if he believes he may never see our child.

"This child of ours will be kept, Nixon, and you will be there to raise it," I state, my tone firm as Nixon allows a soft smile to cross his lips.

"I swear to you, I will be there."

<><>

Could I ever did a peaceful ending? A part of me says that since I married Nixon, I could never achieve that. However, after looking back upon life and towards the road ahead, I find it hard to believe that I am someone who is going to seek a peaceful ending. Peaceful endings mean no excitement, no powerful emotions, nothing but sitting back and watching the world take shape without you. As a child I always kept myself busy, never at rest as I was always onto the next thing, and that trait has never stopped functioning. Even today, after all these months of Nixon, I still move from task to task. Even as someone carrying a child, I am constantly at work.

Constantly working as the Luna to Crimson Lock because I have hope in their shaping of my child's future with this pack. If this pack places their loyalty in me, they will place their loyalty in my child and raise this baby into someone who knows that respect and kindness are key in running a pack rather than fear and blood. Nixon has his viewpoints as do I, he has his tendencies as do I, and he has his darkest demons as do I.

With my head held high, I greet Alpha Cade and Luna Willow with open arms, their pack states away in Florida yet they find this treaty to be well worth the drive. Crimson Lock is a feared pack and many packs know this, striking treaties to make sure that if there is ever war, they will be unharmed. Luna Willow and Alpha Cade understand full well that Crimson Lock is not a treaty to be broken off. Usually Nixon would be here, but as for the past two times, he has become absent, having me keep these treaties. It gives me something not only to do, but to also gain the loyalty of my own pack. Soon enough, the pack would rather obey me than Nixon and that is what I want.

With Christmas only a month away, the weather has changed, the air cold and the nights longer. The chilly air nips at my skin as I put on a smile to the visiting Alpha and Luna, the pair walking up to the massive pack house. With the Luna's lavender heels making her appear as tall as her husband, pastel yellow dress fitting her form, and hair pinned back in a bun, she looks like every Luna I have met or seen. They all look the same, all prim and proper as they choose to dress themselves in lighter colors while they just put on a pretty face. I guess that is why Luna Willow looks at me differently, how I have chosen my attire makes me stand out more from any Lunas that she has met.

Dressed in black dress pants that semi-cling to my legs, my shirt a navy blouse, and a pair of black boots, I do not fit the look for a Luna. My platinum blond hair tousled around, long bangs pinned back with black bobby-pins, and makeup just a little concealer, us two Lunas look different as I fit more of what Alpha Cade has chosen to wear: black pants, a gray top, and black jacket. Informal compared to his wife. Crimson Lock has a reputation to uphold and I guess I help fit that more intimidating quality even if I am just a human.

"May I just apologize in advance for the absence of my mate and Alpha," I greet the couple, putting on a welcoming face. "Troubles at the palace caused him to leave first thing this morning."

"No trouble at all," Luna Willow replies, her husband seeming cold to her as he simply keeps himself shut off. "Sometimes troubles arise and you must attend to them immediately." It's as if the words she speaks hold another meaning, one not for me to hear, but for her husband.

"Allow me to welcome you to Crimson Lock."

Within ten minutes I have seated myself down with the Alpha and Luna, the room filled with a tense atmosphere as I am to conduct this meeting alone. "We hear that Crimson Lock is doing fine with their financial state," Luna Willow comments, trying to lighten the mood as I know this is a common ice-breaker topic for Alphas and Lunas to discuss at these meetings. "Stable..."

"We have done well," I reply, pulling from the desk where I sit the file that contains the treaty from three years ago. "I have read through our previous treaty between our two packs and was wondering if there was anything you were considering to add."

I know that the treat shows that their pack's top loyalty is to Crimson Lock just like many treaties that I have read through. Nixon did a fine job of not just putting fear in his pack, but others as well to make sure they would never try and go against him.

"Our son, Flynn, he will take the Alpha title soon-

"We hope he will. Nothing is set in stone," Luna Willow corrects her husband, turning to me. "It may be a few more years before we know if he will become Alpha." I nod, looking to the treaty in my hands as I see the signatures at the bottom. Nixon is not here to redo the treaty, meaning I will be the individual to sign in his place. Not only does this show me doing his job, but it shows that the treaty was done by me. Since it is done by me this time around, it not only means that Luna Willow and Alpha Cade are signing their loyalty to Crimson Lock, but Luna Lily Maxwell...not Alpha Nixon Maxwell.

"We will keep it the same as last time," Alpha Cade decides, signing his name atop the line, the navy ink from a fountain pen on the desk showing his name. Nixon has always adored the color navy, navy ties, navy rugs, navy furniture, navy eyes, and even navy pens. It's like his own little soul is flooded with the dark shade of blue.

Taking the pen, I sign my name as well, on the line where Nixon's name should go but shall not. It's like a little victory for me. A victory that earns me more loyalty to raise this child within the boarder lines of safety and secrecy of its father's past.

As the treaty is signed and the Alpha and Luna greet Nixon's Beta and head warrior, I drift off into a separate hall of the pack house, the walls becoming pale blues and pinks as nighttime songs are sung. The children of warriors will often stay here, in separate cribs as their mothers get together for a dinner. I've only come in here once, when I did my first visit without Nixon and was shown this nursery room. Clouds paired on the walls and stars on the ceiling, two wide windows allow for the moonlight to leak into the room and allow the pups to sleep.

Walking over to a white crib, my eyes drift to the child sleeping within, a pale yellow blanket pulled to the small girl's chin, short blond hair a tad messy, and little fingers wrapped around a struggled wolf. She's a picture of innocence, to grow up in this pack where she will respect and trust her Luna, as I will make sure this pack sees nothing of Nixon in me, only a warm heart and a Luna who will look out for them with good intentions.

"Luna Lily," a voice softly greets, a calm and gentle voice that makes me wonder if this woman is a mother of a child here. Looking to a woman over my shoulder, she stands in the doorway, the warm glow of the hall outlining her as she watches me. Stepping into the room, her steps look as if she is walking upon clouds, no noise sounding from the small pumps that she wears upon her feet. A petite frame and rounded glasses, she has a trusting look to her, a motherly aspect as she tucks a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, her soft blue eyes meeting my own. "Are you looking for someone?" She asks, wondering why I am in the nursery if I do not yet have a child of my own.

"I was allowing my curiosity to take ahold of me," I reply, keeping my voice soft as the baby girl before me sleeps peacefully still. "I wanted to just see the nursery a little."

"How far along are you?" She asks, knowing the reality of my pregnancy that many believe is why I have tied Nixon down to me. Perhaps this child could be his weakness. Only twelve weeks ago did I hear the sound of my child's heartbeat. That was while I was nine weeks along, seeming so far from where I am today.

"Twelve weeks," I answer, looking to the woman.

She nods. "I am so sorry, let me introduce myself," she apologizes as she realizes I do not yet know her name. "I'm Ramona Codwell. My mate is a warrior here, and this little girl is my darling little girl, Eliza."

"Beautiful name," I whisper, looking to Eliza as she sleeps peacefully. "She's beautiful."

Ramona smiles, a gentle smile that lets me know she has a warm heart. "Thank you. She is the joy of my life." The joy of her life. Will my child be like that for me? Will I find this child to be the joy of my life? "May I just say, Luna Lily, that I do believe you are a great Luna and in time, will only become greater."

I offer Ramona a sweet smile, one to mimic her own as I thank her. "That means very much to me." Ramona nods, looking down to Eliza as her eyes are filled with endless love.

"Children can make their parents better people, and Eliza has proven that with me and my mate, Alex. We have become a tighter family all because of her...and her journey with us has just begun."

I feel a tug at my heart as Ramona says those words, words that make me want to have what she describes. Perhaps this child will pull Nixon and I closer together than before, to create a happier family as we take care of a young soul. Perhaps, after all is said and done, this child will grow up to do great things while still holding morals true to their pack and tradition.

"I'm glad to have met you, Ramona, but I'm afraid that duty calls," I inform, watching the mother nod her head and wish me a good night. Saying the same to her, I leave the nursery, my chest heavy as I try and breath at a normal pace, the hormones of my pregnancy weighing down on me. The fact that soon I will become a mother only frightens me by the minute. But Ramona looked at peace, she looked like nothing could ever pull her down and create a bubble of darkening days upon her life. She looked as if her child was all she needed in life. However, eventually these children will grow up and take after traits that parents may not be too keen on. Eventually this child within me may just become a monster as Nixon's past shows, but I have hope.

Even in a time like this, I have hope for this child. I will not deny it a life of love and family, no, for I will raise this child to its full potential while staying true to itself and to its pack. In time, I hope to be a fraction of the mother Ramona is.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the doors of my office, the accent colors changed to navy as I had done a week ago. The curtains pulled shut, the room is lit only by the modern light upon the ceiling, my chair awaiting me behind the desk as I take out my phone and look to it.

One message and only from Nixon. Maybe it is about the treaty, how I told him I was able to keep Luna Willow and Alpha Cade loyal to Crimson Lock. Maybe it's a message telling me that he will not be home for another several days. Perhaps it is Nixon telling me that he wants to move closer to the palace.

A smile spreads across my face as I see the message, the image sent warming my heart. It's an image that makes me want to run into his arms.

It's a picture of him holding out an image of the sonogram I had done a few days ago. The sonogram is out of a navy envelope, on his lap as he's in some car. There's a small message under the image he has sent, one that tells me he cannot wait to bring our child into the world and have it experience not just the love of its mother and father, but the love of the pack and the world.

A single tear rolls down my cheek, my hand working fast to wipe it away as Nixon's words allow a flood of emotions to break loose.

He cannot wait for our child to be brought into this world and neither can I.