Nixon

••• Fifty-One •••

"Their troops are about two hundred yards across, camped out in the woods," my Beta informs, drawing me away from the silence of my tent as I take in a deep breath. Looking over to Fiona, I try and think of the next steps. I've never given orders in a battle, I've never directed warriors on what to do, how to attack, formations to take, and everything which can make or break a battle. I've watched shows with battles, seeing how those put in charge lead their men, but even then, their tactics are not for us. Our cavalry is not built of horses with men atop, but of werewolves. We have no true archer unit, yet the witches can take on long distance. 

"You give the orders," Fiona comments, relaxing in her chair as I look to the banner of Crimson Lock hung from the side of the tent, the deep red flag hanging down as it comes to a point, the head of a wolf overlaying a circle made of thorns. Nixon knew how to lead his men, his father taught him battle tactics and his Gamma and Beta were there to provide support, not to try and direct the entire battle. 

Turning around, I look to the small map laid out across the table, Fiona placing down a block to resemble the opposing side. "Who fights against us?" I ask, needing to know what packs have joined together. 

"Alpha Penelope gathered men from four different packs for what we can see," my Gamma informs, "it seems that Nightfall Pack, Silverridge Pride, Bloodmoon Walkers, and the Crescent Moon Banes have joined her." 

Writing down the names of the packs, I look up to my Beta and Gamma as I hand them the note. "These will be the first packs to fall when we have taken the palace. Alpha Penelope will be the first one we go after." Turning to Fiona, I motion for her to follow me as we exit the tent and look out upon our camp of warriors, all awaiting the fight ahead as the sun has just started to rise. "How man battles have you fought in?" 

"Seven, this will be my eighth." I lead Fiona down a little way to the edge of the camp, looking out upon the field before us. The palace lays to the right and straight ahead is the camp of Alpha Penelope. "Most of my coven has fought the same amount. Others have been lucky to fight less." 

Rolling back my shoulders, I try and relax my tense muscles, trying to find a little bit of peace within myself before this battle. "My Beta and Gamma want to charge the enemy head on, for them to see us coming and be ready to shift into their wolves. My men cannot just sneak up on the other packs because a werewolf can sniff out another werewolf easily." 

"Let my coven send a few over, to sneak up and drive them out of their camp with some casualties." Looking to Fiona, I ask her to continue with what her coven would do. "We can set their camp on fire, startling them, scaring them, and trapping some warriors in the flames while those who get out soon enough will have no choice but to come out of the woods." I like her idea, it allows for the other side to be caught off guard and become flustered because of that. 

"When could you do this?" I ask, watching the sun rise over the treetops as the leaves are bright colors of gold and green in the sun. 

"Just give me the word." 

Nodding, I send Fiona off to collect a few of her coven to start the attack. As I am about to head back into the tent, I take a moment in the sunlight to enjoy the peace. My skin warms up as the sunlight shins onto me. I can still remember his eyes, deep and filled with passion. Nixon was always there for me, coming to my aid when I was attacked, enraged when he found me covered in my own blood after Zion had attacked. Nixon held me through the entire night, holding me close as he swore to me that Zion would pay. I never expected Nixon to go after Zion in the way he did, ending up killing Sybil who now lives again, but I think that deep down, I knew my husband was one of violence. 

I have never been blind to the fact that Nixon was violent, handling those who opposed him with the terror of finding him in their house one day to kill them. I know much of the violence he took out was too far, for he killed Gavin, but I learned to forgive him, and Nixon learned to change.