Chapter 152

Aria

To say that Darren was not happy with the chief’s absurd request would have been an understatement. In fact, he was downright furious.

“No. Absolutely not,” he said, turning to face me. “It’s way too dangerous to let you speak to that fucker alone. Either I go with you, or you don’t go at all.”

By now, Wendy had appeared by my side. When I explained the situation, her brow furrowed. “Why does he only want to speak with Aria?”

The Shadowclan warrior who had brought us the news shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure, ma’am. He just said that he wants to speak with the Luna.”

Darren glared at me, noticing my neutral expression. “You’re not seriously considering this, Aria.”

I sighed, pulling my sweater a little tighter around my shoulders. “I’m inclined to speak with him. Maybe he’s willing to negotiate.” It didn’t explain why he only wanted to speak with me and not Darren, though. Maybe he was afraid of Darren? Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that, up until recently, I was essentially a human for all intents and purposes?

Or perhaps it was something else entirely.

Finally, Darren huffed. “You’re going to be the death of me, Aria White.”

I just shrugged.

The negotiations came with strict conditions. I would meet at the border of pack lands, in a carefully selected neutral location. A full posse of pack warriors would be positioned strategically—close enough to intervene at a moment’s notice, but far enough to give the appearance of a diplomatic meeting.

“I won’t be far, either,” Darren said firmly. “You can speak with him privately, but I want you in my line of sight.”

I couldn’t agree more with those conditions. Although I didn’t want to show it, my heart was in my throat. The idea of meeting with the chief of police, who had essentially shown his true colors lately as a warmonger, didn’t exactly fill me with joy.

But as so many had said before, I was the Luna of this pack. And if negotiations were a possibility, then I would put aside my fears and do exactly what a Luna was meant to do.

Lead.

Wendy helped me prepare before the meeting. She insisted on braiding my hair and putting me in traditional Moonglow garb, consisting of a patterned coat with a light fur collar that was perfect for the spring weather, practical wool trousers, tanned leather boots, and dangling silver earrings.

“Remember,” she murmured, her fingers working quickly to braid my hair in a crown around my head, “You are the Luna. Every word, every gesture matters.”

I caught her eye in the mirror. “That doesn’t exactly help ease my anxiety.”

She just smiled. “It wasn’t meant to.”

When I arrived at the meeting point, I was struck by how carefully orchestrated everything was. The location was situated at the once-frozen waterfall that we’d passed many times on our treks in and out of the territory, its white rapids flowing down into a deep pool below.

Spring wildflowers sprouted from the rocky crevasses along the cliffside, and a pink-blossomed cherry tree swayed in the breeze at the very top of it. It was beautiful.

But the location wasn’t chosen for its beauty.

Here, there were no hidden corners, and therefore no potential for ambush. The warriors blended seamlessly into the landscape, just visible enough so that the humans knew they were there but also invisible enough so that the humans could never tell exactly where they were at any given time.

It was a silent warning to not try pulling any stunts.

Bella’s father was already waiting beneath the cherry tree, looking out of place amongst the pink and white blossoms. His dark uniform stood in sharp contrast to the wild landscape around us.

“Miss White,” he began, then corrected himself. “Luna Aria.”

I raised an eyebrow. The change in title was deliberate.

“Major Johnathan,” I said coldly, my hands tucked into the pockets of my jacket. I gestured to the view. “Lovely location, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond to that.

“I’ve been watching what you’ve been doing,” he said simply. “The documentary. The tincture; that was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” I replied coolly.

He nodded. “It seems you’ve become quite the icon in recent weeks. Luna Aria, the human-turned-werewolf. From my research, you actually rescued your own boyfriend as a child, didn’t you? Saved his life.”

I bristled. “Mate, not boyfriend,” I corrected him, withdrawing my left hand to reveal the moonstone ring sitting on my finger. It caught the light, almost appearing to glow from within. “And fiancee.”

The chief’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Congratulations.”

I didn’t bother to point out that I highly doubted he felt very congratulatory about the news.

“Well, I must say, your methods are quite innovative,” he continued, “and surprisingly compassionate.”

“Surprisingly?” I echoed with a wry chuckle.

The chief didn’t react to that. “You know, we could use someone like you on our side,” he said carefully. “Someone who understands both worlds.”

The implication hung in the air. I knew exactly what was coming.

“Alfira,” he finally said. “The murderer.”

My stomach twisted. “She’s not a murderer,” I replied coldly. “She’s a survivor.”

He shrugged. “Pity that the human man she killed didn’t survive as well so we could hear his side of the story,” he scoffed. “Turn her in, Aria. Cooperate with human authorities. Do this, and we’ll grant you full citizenship. You can return to the human world. Live a normal life.”

I frowned. “What about Darren? What about our people?” I asked. “Why aren’t they being offered the same opportunity?”

The chief’s expression shifted. Something ugly flickered in his eyes. “You’re different from the others. I can tell,” he said. “I believe it’s because you were raised by humans, and therefore more... civilized.”

I almost laughed out loud at that. If only he knew my adoptive family and the disgusting things they did. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, and besides, since it seemed he’d done extensive research into my past, he likely already knew.

“I won’t betray one of my own,” I finally replied.

His smile turned predatory. “Then my men will come. They’ll take her. It will make the situation much worse for your ‘people’, I assure you.”

I laughed, but it wasn’t just a chuckle this time. Taking a page out of Wendy’s book, I threw my head back, my silver earrings catching the morning sun, and laughed loudly. Abrasively, even. I laughed until the chief’s face was satisfyingly red when I looked back at him.

“The human government declared pack lands as sovereign nations,” I reminded him. “Your authorities have no jurisdiction here. Unless you intend to start a war?”

Johnathan’s eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you that your little nations—plural—are not whole? They’re separate. Divided. Tribes, not nations. How many packs are there, anyway? Ten? Twenty? Each with their own leader, and many in hiding after the way you revealed your existence without a care for their wishes?”

I pursed my lips, but the chief went on, “No, Aria, it would not be a war. It would be an eradication. Your little pack, with your quaint ‘traditions’ and pretty jewelry, would be swept off the map within a night. The other packs won’t come for you in time, if they come for you at all.”

My heart lurched, but I refused to show it on my face. I knew that his words were meant to scare me, and although I hated to admit it, it was working. He was right, after all. We were divided, and there were a whole hell of a lot more of them than there were of us in just Moonglow.

Maybe that was why I said my next words.

“You’re mistaken,” I said, taking a step closer to him. “The werewolves will unite. In fact, Darren is on track to become Alpha King of all the werewolves.”

The chief’s lip curled. “Alpha King, eh? Is that so?”

“Yes. And I will be his Luna Queen.”

My pulse throbbed. What the hell was I doing? What was I saying?

“You think you can manipulate me because I have a kind heart,” I somehow managed to go on, my voice growing cold despite the terror coursing through my veins. “But a kind heart isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength. And if you don’t grant equal rights to every single person—werewolf and human alike—if you continue to fan the flames of these riots, these protests... I won’t negotiate at all.”

The chief glared at me, his eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his hat. I couldn’t tell if he was buying my act or seeing right through it, but somehow, I found the strength—or maybe the idiocy—to keep going.

“You’re a coward, by the way,” I said. “Inviting only me, thinking you could manipulate the soft-hearted woman. You should be begging both Darren and myself for forgiveness. But I suppose you’ll be doing that anyway once we unite the werewolves and take you down.”

Before he could respond, I turned and walked away.

I hoped he couldn’t tell just how red and hot my face had become.

What the hell had I done?!