Nixon

••• Fourteen •••

Luxury, that's the first word to hit me as I step past the double doors, Nixon's hand on the small of my back as he guides me in. Before me lies a massive entrance, wooden stairs on either side ascending to another floor, the chandelier hanging tall and proud as the windows go far up.

As we pass through an archway, the living room is before us as I take in the modern yet homy feel. The wooden floors are polished, leather couches centered around a fireplace in the center, logs in and a small fire going. There, by the doors to the back, stand two men, each standing tall and built.

"Alpha Maxwell," they both greet, not even dating to meet my eyes or look by way. The one on the left is shorter than the other, a dirty blond, dark brown eyes, and a long scar running from his right ear to the bridge of his nose. The other has ginger hair, gray eyes, and his ears have small gages.

"Beta Peter and Delta William," Nixon greets, from left to right. Beta Peter is the blond and Delta William is the ginger. Oliver told me weeks ago who the Beta and Delta are. The Beta is second in command and the Delta third who also runs the training for warriors/the head warrior.

"This is Luna Lily."

Luna?

He's made it certain that I'm Luna, that I'm his.

I don't know if I should be proud or scared.

"Luna," they both greet, meeting my gaze. "Alpha, the pack is outside."

Nixon nods, dismissing the two as they walk outback, shutting the door behind them. Looking past the window, I see a crowd of people chatting among themselves as I turn to face Nixon.
"There's so many."

He nods, giving me no reply.

Instead of leading me to the door, Nixon walks before me, hands on my shoulders as my hands begin to shake. "They will adore you."

"They will adore me while you stand before them. Hell, I bet the second I'm thrown to them I'll be eaten alive," I snap, watching as his eyes turn icy blue. My throat becomes dry, fearing those eyes as he stares down upon me, my heart skipping multiple beats. "I'll try for you."

His eyes turn normal.

I'm led to the door.

Cold metal.

Twisting.

Stomach knotting.

Shivers.

His warmth.

A kiss upon my temple.

The doors open to reveal a multitude of people, various from school, many dressed in black shorts and gray shirts (the training warriors I assume) and the rest are in a bit more of a dressy state with nice shirts and jeans of kakis.

"Alpha," they say in unison as I try to not meet a single gaze that shifts to me or even stays locked on me.

"Crimson Lock," he replies.

Crimson Lock, that must be the name of his pack, the name I've been wondering about for a while now. "This is your Luna," he informs and every single pair of eyes is stuck to me, judging me from under their gaze. A human is their Luna. A human. A weakling as I've heard my kind called in comparison to their's.

They now their heads as the cold takes another swing at me, instantly regretting coming as the fear kicks in. As my hand stays locked in Nixon's, I squeeze tight, swallowing the lump on my throat as I do a small now of the head to greet those before me.

Nixon begins to speak again as I zone out upon his words, finding Oliver and Emily in the crowd, dressed for occasion, and not even dating to meet my glance. I find George next in the crowd, his jaw bruised along with his eye, an unsettling feeling beginning to form deep down as I remember his words.