Chapter 150

Aria

We all gathered in the den of the pack house a little while later, surrounding the large TV screen mounted on the wall. Alfira connected her laptop to it, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled up the documentary.

“It’s a little under an hour,” Alfira said as she set up the film for us to watch. “I hope it’s long enough to convey everything, but I didn’t have enough time to make it longer.”

With that, she pressed play and retreated to a corner of the room, nervously biting her thumbnail as the movie began to play.

The documentary opened with sweeping aerial drone shots of the pack’s territory—the dense forests, the village, the pack house. It then cut to footage of werewolves living their daily lives, interspersed with interviews.

Throughout the interviews, werewolves of various ages spoke about their experiences, their traditions, their hopes and fears. The artisans’ initial interviews, however, were now sprinkled with the newer ones from both humans and werewolves alike.

After that, the film shifted to covering the riots, using news footage from the Lunar Labs attack. Images of angry protesters holding hateful signs flashed across the screen, a jarring change from the quiet, peaceful, slow life of the village.

As the documentary drew to a close, it ended with a montage of werewolves and human refugees together—playing, working, laughing, even dancing at the last feast. Over these images, Darren’s voice played from his interview:

“We don’t want a war. We never did. All we want is the freedom to exist without fear, to raise our children in a world where they don’t have to hide who they are. Is that so much to ask?”

Finally, the screen faded to black, and for a long moment, the room was silent. Then, Darren stood and crossed the room to Alfira, clasping her hand tightly between both of his.

“Alfira, this is perfect,” he said firmly. “We’ll release it right away.”

Her face paled. “You’re sure?”

Darren agreed, and Alfira returned to her laptop, beginning the process of uploading the documentary to various platforms across the internet.

We all hovered anxiously—Darren with his arms folded, Liam’s arm around Bella’s shoulders, Wendy wringing her hands, and I paced the room—watching as she worked her magic. She set up social media posts, contacted journalists she trusted, and prepared email blasts to be sent to influential figures.

“And... it’s live,” Alfira finally announced, hitting the enter key with a flourish.

A cheer went up from the group. But before we could pull out our various devices and watch the views go up, Darren cleared his throat. Wendy emerged from behind him, holding out a large wooden bowl.

“Alright, everyone,” Darren said. “Hand them over.”

We all looked at him in confusion.

“Your phones,” he clarified, nodding to the bowl. “All of you. We’re not going to spend the entire night refreshing the view count and reading comments. Give Wendy your devices and go to bed.”

There were groans of protest, but one by one, everyone complied. When it was my turn, I reluctantly placed my phone in the bowl, pouting slightly.

“That includes you, Luna,” he said with a smirk. “We’ll see how things stand in the morning. Right now, we all need sleep.”

Later, Darren and I lay in bed, our limbs tangled together and our skin bare. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, turning the dark room silvery. I traced my finger across the hard plane of his chest, musing softly, “Do you think it will work? The documentary?”

Darren sighed. “Aria, it’s late…”

“I mean it,” I said, propping myself up on one elbow. “I hope it makes an impact. And I hope the chief of police finally comes to his senses.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up too much. Men like that rarely change.”

I watched him as he sat up and moved across the room to collect his clothes, appreciating the strong lines of his body, the subtle play of muscles beneath his skin. No matter how many times I saw him, I never tired of looking at him.

He caught me staring and grinned at me over his shoulder. “Like what you see?” he asked, brazenly flexing his back and biceps.

I threw a pillow at him, which he easily caught. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He laughed and tugged his boxer on, then joined me on the bed once more and gathered me against his chest. We lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the open window.

“I had a talk with Wendy today,” I said after a while, swallowing hard. “About… babies.”

Darren’s body tensed slightly. He knew that Bella was pregnant now—she and Liam had announced it to everyone earlier, resulting in cheers and congratulations—but my tone indicated that I wasn’t talking about her.

“And?” he asked. His voice was carefully neutral.

“And…” I took a deep breath, inspecting my moonstone ring in the moonlight. “I’m not sure if I want to have children of my own. I mean, we have Lucas, and he’s enough for me. But I wasn’t sure if you’d be disappointed, if you wanted more children, or if the pack expects it, or—”

Suddenly, Darren placed a finger against my lips, silencing my rambling. “Aria, I’ve never been one to care what others expect. All I care about is your happiness. If you don’t want children, then we won’t have children. Simple as that.”

Relief washed over me. “You’re not disappointed?”

He shook his head, his eyes soft in the dim light. “How could I be disappointed when I already have more than I ever dreamed of? You and Lucas are my family. That’s all I need. Besides, Lucas is enough of a pain in the ass as it is.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Somewhat relieved, I laid back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. But something else flitted into my mind, and I glanced at him.

“Speaking of the future... What about the Alpha King election? Wendy mentioned it might be coming up. And I know you were worried about it for a long time.”

Darren was quiet for a long moment before he answered, “I don’t even know if there will be an election with things the way they are. The werewolf community is fractured right now. Some would say it’s not the time for leadership changes. As far as I know, it’s been suspended. Perhaps permanently.”

“But if there is one?” I prompted, lifting my head to look at him.

He glanced at me. “It’s a lot of responsibility. For both of us. During a time where there’s a lot going on already.”

I shrugged. “You’re already a great Alpha to this pack. You could bring the same leadership to all werewolves. Besides, uniting the werewolves would be hugely beneficial given everything else that’s going on.”

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth then. “And what about you?” he asked, rolling on his side to face me, his head propped on his fist. “Ready to be Luna Queen?”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me. But... if it’s what you want, I’ll stand by your side. Through thick and thin, remember?”

He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “That’s the spirit,” he murmured. “But right now, let’s just focus on one calamity at a time.”

“Fair enough.”

The next morning, I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and the sound of excited voices from downstairs. Darren was already up, his side of the bed empty. Yawning, I pulled on a robe and made my way downstairs.

The kitchen was packed with people, all clustered around Darren, who was holding his phone.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my heart racing already.

Darren looked up. “The documentary reached our target audience. News stations are picking it up, social media is blowing up with it. Thousands of people have watched it already.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “Really? What are people saying?”

“It’s mixed, of course,” Liam said, scrolling through his own phone. “But there is a lot of support. More than we expected. People are starting to question the narrative they’ve been fed by the lovely chief of police.”

Bella grimaced at the mention of her father and looked away, her fingers tightening around her cup of herbal tea. I moved to stand beside Darren, looking over his shoulder at the screen. They were right—the documentary was being shared widely, with thousands of comments and reactions.

Surely it would only be a matter of time before Bella’s father was forced to say something. He had still refused to respond to our requests for a meeting, but he couldn’t ignore us forever. Not with this much attention on him now.

Just then, a familiar voice echoed from behind us.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

We all jumped, turning to see Dr. Edward standing in the doorway. He looked windswept, his hair mussed as if he’d just run here. Darren leapt to his feet. “Edward, I didn’t think—”

Edward held up a black bag. “The prototype is ready. I came as soon as I could. If you’re ready, we can even run a test now. But I’ll need a volunteer—a werewolf who’s willing to come into contact with a dog while wearing the prototype tincture.”

Before anyone else could speak, Darren stepped forward.

“If anyone is going to do this, then it should be me,” he said firmly.