It is a humid, sticky sunset when the dread looms over us all. The weather does not aid our moods.

The two other Alphas -- including Liam and myself -- are seated at the table as I analyze Beckett's neat hand written. Cursive. Signed Sincerely, Alpha Beckett, at the bottom that makes my stomach curdle as I clench the paper. I smooth out the creases a minute later so that when I pass it over to the others, they can make out the bullshit he writes. 

"He's delirious," one of the older gentleman Alpha's of the North Side pack declares, "does he really expect you to surrender?"

"Apparently," I reply with a shrug of my shoulders. "He wants me to hand over my pack members as well, as I'd ever willingly allow him to take over my pack."

"Why would he make such a big claim?" The next Alpha is younger, but the golden wedding band on his finger tells me it hasn't stopped him from marrying young and producing children. He's nineteen, at the most. "What does he have that could beat an army of 5,000 wolves?"

"Serums," Liam inputs and the other Alpha's hum in agreement. "A big enough dose is deadly. He's been allied with the hunters."

"Another reason we need to take him down," the final and rather burly Alpha declares, he has a full head of thick black hair and a permanent scowl on his face. "He already said if we deny the surrender, then we battle this weekend." 

Stella raps her fingers across the wood. "Then that's what we do," she says, "we form a combat plan and we take him down. But if Adam's dead-"

"-He's not," I assure her. "It's the only ransom Beckett's got and he's not stupid enough to discard him." The way I speak of it in such a desensitized manner even startles me. Like Adam is an object. A tool for bargaining in a middle of a war. Like that's the only thing he's been reduced to. 

Stella is clearly uncomfortable at the casualty of my remark and she shuffles in her seat, "right," she replies. I can see the wheels turning in her head as my eyes are drawn towards Liam's. 

"Then we begin the council for plan of action?" He directs the questions to the other Alpha's, because this is Liam's field of expertise, and they nod in agreement. We talk for hours on end, shuffling chess pieces on the wood board in front of us. It's all very metaphorical, the white queen and king, the knights, the rooks, the bishop, and the pawns. On the opposing side is the black king, a queen absence in it's place, and I realize we've all been reduced to players on a board. One pawn on the opposing side sticks out to me because we all have a silent agreement to who it is -- Adam. 

I think that's all Adam has ever been to Beckett. A pawn in a game of chess. And Stella makes her distaste for that with a curl of her lips and leaving as quickly as possible when the meeting is dismissed. I can hear the slam of the kitchen door behind her and I bid the other Alpha's a cordial goodnight before I go after her, I barely am able to close the door behind me before Stella appears in front of me, running a hand threw her hair and a scowl plastered on her face. 

"He's not a pawn," she informs me as I am clueless to the notion. "He's not."

"He is to Alpha Beckett," I reply and my heart clenches in an odd way. "He's not a pawn to us, Stella."

"Then why did you put him on the board like he was?" She huffs. "He's our packmate. For Christ sake Ronnie, he loves you more than anyone in the fucking world. It's an insult."

"It's war, Stella," and I hate the way I sound to my own ears as my throat tightens. "We have to accept that something could happen-"

"And that what?" Stella huffs, "we sacrifice him because killing Beckett is more important?"

"Of course I don't want that-" She doesn't even let me finish.

"-But you would have to let it happen if it came down to it?" She questions, putting words in my mouth that I would never say. Adam is more than a packmate; he's become a friend and how she concludes that I'm willing to sacrifice him is ridiculous. But Stella has never been a contemplative person, she reacts faster than she can think sometimes. Sometimes it's for the better, sometimes it's for the worse. 

"I'm the face of a pack now, Stella," I remind her, "and you are too. We have to do what is good for all of us and I can't display that in front of our allies. We can't let emotions run our decisions." I say, "if it was up to you, we would have stormed that place a long time ago like Beckett wanted and fell right into the trap."

"Because I can't imagine something happening to him again," Stella blurts with distress clear in her eyes. The anger slowly washes away, and all that's left is a disheartened expression in it's wake. "The things he told me-" She cuts herself off with a sharp inhale of air. "-I don't want him to go through it again. Because I did. Because I wondered if my pack would ever come for me too and convinced myself no one gave a shit if I lived or not."

"I know," I whisper. "I remember." and how the hell could I forget?

"He talked about childhood memories with you," She informs me solemnly. "I don't think you realize how much he-"

"Stella," I cut her off, ready to butt in when she declares, 

"I care for him." She states it bluntly. I resist the urge to snort at the evident. "I mean in a more than friendly manner."

"I suspected," I tell her.

"But it's complete shit, you know?" She continues with her hands thrown up in the air. "He's in love with you and we're not even true mates and-"

"-I think it's evident that he obviously cares for you since you're constantly around one another." I say with a roll of my eyes, "and I was merely his first love, Stella, but not his true one and he must realize that by now or we would have been together. First love is not always forever." I take a step closer to her, settling my hand on her arm, "people don't always automatically fall in love. They grow to learn to love each other, slowly, and when you do, it is deeply and nearly irrevocable because it's right. I'm not disregarding Adam's emotions for me, but when you both love each other, he'll know truly what it means." 

"It's not love," Stella's eyes focus on the ground as she purses her lips, "but it could be."

I hug her tightly to me and she allows it, gripping onto each other for the much needed support we can offer to one another in the face of revelation. I think of the obvious signs and my building suspicions in the week previous, but hearing it cements it for me. It seems now only would Stella state her true emotions in regards to the fact we could never see Adam again. 

It's a terrible thought, but also a realistic one that makes my stomach churn. I hold onto whatever little hope I can summon that Adam can be returned to us safely, and that Adam and Stella will finally get their chance at happiness. 

Jeremy found something with Rosalyn, so why can't Stella? If there's anyone in the world more deserving of a happy ending, it's them. 

I think we all deserve one.

       "Do you think about after?" I ask Liam as I settle under the covers of our bed. I pick at a stray piece of lint. "Like after this all?"

"Of course," Liam answers as a no brainer as he tugs his shirt off over his head. He motions to toss it to the side, but I give him the side eye and he quickly discards it into the hamper instead. "I think about our life."

"Yeah?" I ask as if I had no clue. My eyes trace the muscle of his back as he steps out of his shorts and reveals dark grey boxers. My gaze travels lower from there and he shoots me a cocky smirk. "What do you imagine?"

"Us," He states the obvious and I roll my eyes. "Living in our home. You, painting all day and night and cluttering up our house with your art." He pauses to crawl onto the bed, and cup my legs underneath his palms as he perches his head on my lap and I rake a hand through his hair. He peers up at me from his spot and I can't resist the urge to smooth my hand down his cheek with a smile at his expression. "And you'd come back from school in the evenings, tell me what you've learned and never be quiet about it because that's who you are, and we'd have strong pack."

"I like that imagery," I tell him, and I truly do, "but what do you want?"

Liam hums and traces the bare skin of my stomach, tracing a long my belly button before traveling to the hollow of my hipbones. "You," and though the notion is sweet, I raise my grow because he alludes to more with the glimpse in his eyes. 

"You have me," I tell him. "But what else?"

He presses a kiss to my stomach, lingering there and it makes my next inhale of breath all the more sharper. "I want to be a father." He mutters into my skin, "I want a daughter, with your hair and my eyes. I want another part of us. I want to be everything to my child that my father wasn't. I want to love another piece of us."

The sentiment in his words nearly brings me to tears, and it practically does with the way my eyes water and my heart lodges itself in my throat. It's something I never realized how much Liam desired -- but that should have been obvious. He's lost his family, and wanting to make one of his own is only logical. He's been alone for so many years. We've both lost and learned and now, we want our pack. Our own family. 

"And her name will be Flora." I tell him, and Liam only smiles, surging up to kiss me. 

I never imagined myself a mother, nor even an Alpha, let alone alive at this point. And it may have been what I hadn't wanted in the past, but my desire to see Liam happy outweighs anything in this world and knowing I can give it to him; well, that only makes me more intent on fulfilling my promise. Perhaps not today or a year from now. But one day. 

"I love you," he murmurs to me as settles himself over me. I clutch to him in silent desperation, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. 

"I love you," I respond, gathering the strength I need from him. "I love you," I say again and Liam silences me with another kiss and drowns whatever thoughts surface to the fore front of my mind. I'm blind to worries tonight.

        "You scared?" Jer asks from his perches on the edge of the building, legs swinging out from beneath me. I resist the urge to tell him to get away from the edge, only because peering down from the roof makes me anxious.

"Of?" I retort as I examine the horizon. 

From the corner of my eye, I can see him cock a brow up at me. 

"Of aliens," he rolls his eyes, "what do you think?"

"That it's a dumb question," I respond. "No, Jer, I am not scared of my packmates potential death. In fact, I am swell."

"Swell?" Jeremy snorts. "Well, I'm just asking considering Stella will be shit at writing my eulogy so I need to find someone else more capable." 

"Jeremy!" I hiss as I whirl to face him. I want to smack him over the head, but God forbid I send him off the roof. 

"Chill!" He holds his hands up in surrender, "it's a joke. I can't die. The good guys aren't supposed to die."

"You're hardly the good guy," I scoff and now it's Jer's turn to be offended. 

"Hey, I'm trying!" He says sharply, folding his arms over his chest. "I wasn't, a while ago."

It catches my curiosity, the dimming of his facial features and the teasing glimmer gone from his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I did shit after the pack disbanded that I'm not exactly proud of," Jeremy waves me off, as it's no big deal. "Kill or be killed, you know. Not my best moments."

"Those moments don't define you," I reply, "what you did in the past doesn't define who you are now."

Jeremy peers at me over his shoulder, a grim smile coating his lips as he stares at me longer than usual. "You should definitely write my eulogy. Say some deep stuff like that."

"Jer," I huff. 

"My mom was like that," he suddenly informs me as he cocks his head at the setting sun. Looking it as if it's some anomaly. "She was a writer, use to tell crazy stories when she put us to bed. It's where I got my hair color from."  He picks at his jeans in a nervous fidget, "my brothers all had blonde hair. My mom use to say that she always wished for one of us to look like her dad and that God answered her prayers with me. I was the youngest, you know," he purses his lips in deep thought, "and the last."

"What happened?" I ask softly. 

"What happened to everyone else," he murmurs. "The Purgatory came and they took my whole life away that day. Mom, my brothers, all gone." I can see the glassy sheen of his eyes, "mom said she knew I'd be the last one before she died. Said to find my dad. So I went, and he didn't me want there." Jer looks sour as he spits that out, "I think that's why we're all bonded. We're all outcasts, misfits, so we all understand where we came from and who it's made us now." Jer stands, brushing off imaginary dirt, "the past definitely doesn't define us, but it molds us into who we are to become."

I hum at his wise words, coming to stand next to him as I take his hand and lean my head on his shoulder. His palm is sweaty in mine, but I don't release it. Instead, I squeeze his hand in reassurance and Jeremy returns it. "It'll be okay," Jer says though he doesn't sound like he believes, "mom said it would all be okay in the end."

"This is the end, huh?" I murmur, the sun casts a warm orange glow upon us and the shadows of the tree create odd shapes in the shadows. 

"Yeah, it's the end." He confirms. "You're a good friend. And you should definitely name one of your kids after me."

I release a watery laugh, "okay," I tell him. "Only if you never tell my kids the story about seeing my boobs."

"No promises," he teases, "It was a momentous moment; comparable to the invention of electricity." 

I laugh some more, and for the rest of the time, we watch the sunset in silence.

           "So, tonight?" One of the pack members asks in confirmation. 

"Yes," I motion for him to follow the others who begin to tread their way to Liam. "Liam will go over everything once again."

"Alright, thank you Alpha Mars," I give him a stiff nod and he makes to join the rest, the other Alpha's rally their own packs and everyone's mood is sullen as we gather for tonight's battle. We have a time. We have a place; the field where it took place last time. And we have an army. 

I still can't digest how I'll feel seeing Beckett face to face again, or even seeing the field where I held my dying father in my arms, but now is not the time to break. Now I am supposed to be sturdy, for the sake of my pack more than myself. 

I prayed last night, to a God I'm not entirely sure I believe in, for the sake of Adam and my fellow packmates lives. I know we will lose people today -- it is the inevitable that settles in the pit of my stomach. I use to think I was hellbent on revenge, but the daunting reality of lost lives on my part still makes my fingers shake with the mere thought. 

Stella makes her way over to me, her ponytail swishes behind her as she walks. She stops in front of me, releasing a sigh and folding her arms over her chest as she scans the perimeter. "You ready?" She asks, without meeting my gaze.

No. "I suppose," I thought I was, "no other choice, right?" I ask as if I'm truly searching for one.

"No," she responds. "And Beckett has to die for what he's done."

"And he will," I'll be damned if it's the last thing I do. 

Rosalyn passes by quickly, placing a hand on my arm while Belle offers me a grim smile. Alfie's arm is slung over her shoulder as he cradles her to his side. No doubt, she's afraid and showing it more than anyone else. Her sister nor any of the other girls are being led into battle, instead they will stay at the base to be safe. They've had enough of war.

"They're going to positions now," Stella informs me and true to her word, I watch as they pass by me, some shifting as they go into wolf form. I forlornly watch them go.

"I'll be in the second line," She says it as if I'm not aware, as if I hadn't analyze that aspect of the plan for hours on end. But Stella insisted. Likely for the sake of spotting Adam. I know she's hellbent on getting to him, willing to risk even herself. 

"I'm aware," I reply. "Please be careful."

"I will," she gives a stiff nod, "I have to go." She pauses before turning, pulling me into an abrupt tight hug. I return, squeezing her to me. "See you soon." I notice her careful choice of words, and I give her a tight smile. With that, she turns and makes her way to her designated group, waving them over as they begin to file forward. I will likely be the last one to leave the spot, seeing as I await for Liam to come to my side. 

I am the forefront. I will be the first one to stare Beckett in the eye, seeing as I am the rightful Alpha of the pack and after my signal, the rest will follow me into battle. My fingers weave themselves into my braid without my own voluntary permission, ripping away the band and discarding it to the side so that it hangs around my shoulders. 

I check the time one final time as Liam jogs his way other to me and silently nudges his head in the direction to follow. "Don't stray from me," he whispers to me, his fingers clasping around my wrist and settling on my pulse. "Please." He pleads silently. I promise to do my best to keep in sight at all times, though I highly doubt it will be one I am able to keep. 

A long with the rest, Liam shifts and the other's follow as I begin my march forward to the field. It's a twenty minute journey now, opposed to when I lived closer and it gives me plenty of time for my mind to conjure predicaments that I have no desire to entertain. So I keep forward, listening to the thud of feet behind me and likely the only thing that keeps me grounded. 

It is no surprise that I spot Beckett from a mile away, standing tall and firm with a pack of his owl wolves behind him, some I recognize, and some I do not.  

We are about a football field's length apart, but the mere appearance of him makes my skin itch in a similar way it always did when he enjoyed tormenting me. Like the day he appeared in my kitchen and told me what my future would be. 

My pack stops behind me, as I go farther ahead. Immediately, I can see Adam by his father's side, two other men have a firm grip on him and I can make out the black bruises covering his body as I near to the middle of the field. A loud snarl is released from behind me. 

Despite his appearance, his face is passive and calm while he watches me near with a firm gaze on my being. Beckett motions the men forward with him as he comes to meet me in the middle of the field -- standard before it begins. 

We stop a good distance away from one another, my fists clenched at my sides as I meet his leveled gaze. 

"Ronnie Mars," Beckett deadpans. My eyes stray to Adam by his side. 

"Beckett," I return merely. 

"There does not need to be a war, Ronnie," he begins casually, as if we're discussing the fucking weather. "Surrender your pack and I'll call a truce. I'll let you walk away, guaranteed you may never return. I will even let you take your mate."

"I have no notion of surrendering, Beckett," I say, "just as you have no notion of morality. I would offer you the chance to surrender as well, but I fear I would not let you walk away with your head in tact." I examine the crow feet that appears at the corner of his eyes and the clear signs of aging that weren't nearly as prominent as beforehand. He is only thinner than before, and that only assures me it has not been as easy for him either. "With your death, I'll take the rest of your pack and declare the Beckett pack extinct. It will cease to exist just as you."

"You've grown snarky," he says, as if in faux admiration. "I miss the quivering girl you were."

I know he says it to merely anger me, but It doesn't have the desired effect he wishes it to have. "I'm afraid now is the time for retribution, Beckett," my eyes fall on Adam, "Adam is now apart of my pack and has disbanded from yours. What you've done by taking him is highly illegal in terms of pack matters; hand him over now."

"It's already a fight to the death," Beckett waves me off, "it doesn't matter what is illegal or not. One of us is going to pay for it with our life."

"I suppose that's right, and you have no care in the world for your wife as well?" I question curiously, though I am already aware of the answer. 

"Why is she of any concern?" 

"You should know I've had her taken in the short hour she's chosen to cower," with a swift motion of my hand over my shoulder, the pack behind me parts and leads the sniveling woman forward as she cries Beckett's name. "Your wife for your son." I quickly add is advisement, "if you decline, I'll still slit her neck open and let you watch her bleed out. And, you are smart enough to know what will occur if I do such a thing."

Adam watches the woman he brought him into this world cry, and his face remains impassive as ever. He has no concern for her. Not after what she allowed him to do to her. "Give me her," Beckett's upper lips curling is the only sign of disgruntlement and I motion to Adam. Without a word, the men release him and push him forward into my grasp. I secure him in my arms and place a hand over the back of his neck,

"Go to the pack." I demand, wordlessly, he pulls away to gaze at me before obliging. 

"Now my wife," Beckett says. 

"Of course," I reply smoothly. I pivot as they hand her over to me, her hands woven together my rope. Her face is blotchy and red from her tears, and the bags under her eyes are prominent as they settle on her husband. 

"Now!" He shouts. 

I unsheathe the knife from my boot, making a show of releasing her bound hands. Immediately, she rubs at her swollen wrists as she sobs. Before she can turn to him, my hand seizes her arm tightly in my grasp as I stare Beckett down. "Do you remember when you slit my father's throat in front of me?" I don't wait for his reply as he sneers and makes to step forward, the knife in my hand quickly coming to rest at his wife's throat. "I'm afraid killing your own packmate is also quite the offense and this is time a for retribution, Beckett."

Without giving him the chance to reply, I slide the knife across his wife's throat and watch her and listen to her gurgle for life as I push her down in front of his feet. He watches, wide-eyed as she chokes on her own blood in front of him. They're not true mates, I am not sure there had ever been a person designed for such a horrible man, or else I would have had the pleasure of watching him crumble in front of me as well. 

"I suppose now we are even, in terms of debt," I wipe the excessive of it on my shirt and slide it back into my boot, watching his wife's final tremors of movement before her gaze stills on the sky and her arms fall limp at her side where they previously cradled her gaping wound. 

I'm not sure if he ever had a care in the world for the woman, or seeing her beyond just a possession, but either way his face twists in anger as he declares, "I'll kill you and your pack, Ronnie. I'll save your mate for last."

"It's Alpha Mars," I correct, before swiftly turning on my heel and returning to my previous starting point. "Your pack should become well acquainted with that name, seeing as they will answer to me soon."

I can hear the stomp of his feet behind me, the clear anger as he does just as what Liam predicted as he gives a hoarse command of, "Charge!"

And so the end begins.

----

Just Ronnie being a badass bitch. Pt. 2 shall be uploaded (hopefully) tonight or tomorrow. 

Thanks for all the loyal readers sticking around!

- CeCe.