Chapter 178

Aria

Darren and I stepped out of the car and faced the sprawling estate that was the human president’s home. My chest still ached faintly from my wound, the stitches long gone but the pain lingering. Beside me, Darren subtly favored his left side when he moved, still healing from the hole in his chest.

We were well enough now—our accelerated healing had seen to that, and only a couple of days in the hospital were necessary before they released us—but I couldn’t shake the flutter of unease in my gut as we approached the heavy oak doors of the house

A pair of suited guards nodded us through, and my eyes flicked to the guns holstered at their hips. Just the sight made my stomach lurch. Darren, sensing it, took my hand and laced his fingers through mine.

Inside, the president’s home was just as grand as I’d expected. A butler, flanked by two more guards, gestured for us to follow him. He led us down a long hallway lined with portraits of stern-faced men. He didn’t speak, just gestured toward a set of double doors at the end.

Taking a deep breath, Darren and I pushed through the doors and stepped into a large office, the walls lined with mahogany bookshelves. An enormous desk sat at the center of the room, a fireplace sitting dark and empty against the far wall. There was no need for a fire—it was nearly summer time now in the human city, and it was warm and sunny outside—although I couldn’t help but shiver slightly.

The president stood from behind his desk as we entered, a tall man with graying hair and deep lines furrowing his brow. He wore a suit that hung a little loose on his frame, as if he’d lost weight recently, and his handshake was firm when he offered it to Darren, then me.

“Mr. and Mrs. Avarise,” he said, gesturing to the chairs across from his desk. “Please, sit. I’ve been expecting you.”

I settled into the leather seat, Darren beside me, our knees brushing as we faced the man who’d once signed the order to deport us all.

“I’ll get straight to it,” the president began, folding his hands on the desk. “Police Chief Martinez and Senator Rivera have been taken into custody. They’ll face trial for their actions. The evidence regarding the hiker’s death has been analyzed, along with those soldiers’ confessions, and it’s clear that they orchestrated a lie. Claiming she killed a human, using chemical weapons to paint werewolves as dangerous—it was all fabricated to justify the deportations.”

I sucked in a breath. “Not just deportations,” I bit out. “They intended to kill every man, woman, and child in the pack lands. Whether werewolf or human.”

The president’s face darkened, but he didn’t argue.

“So you know the truth now,” Darren said, clearing his throat. “About everything?”

The president nodded, his jaw tightening. “I do. And I owe you—your people—a formal apology. When I signed that deportation order, I believed it was about containment, about safety. I didn’t know the full scope of their plans. The strike teams sent to your village…” He shook his head, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “That was Martinez and Rivera, acting without my knowledge. I never authorized genocide.”

“An apology is a start,” Darren said. “But it doesn’t undo what has been done. Families torn apart, homes burned, lives lost—all because of those lies.”

The president leaned back, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I know. Which is why I’m offering more than words. I want to make this right. You’re welcome to return to the human world as citizens—full rights, no restrictions. All of you. The pack lands would revert to our control, of course, but you’d be free to live among us again.”

I glanced at Darren, catching the way his mismatched eyes narrowed, the faint twitch of his jaw.

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

The word hung in the air for a long moment. The president blinked, clearly startled. “With all due respect, Mr. President,” Darren went on, leaning forward in his chair, “we’re not coming back. Not like that. After being deported, hunted, abused by your government—my people deserve more than citizenship under someone else’s rule. We’re not just humans with sharper teeth—I realize that now. We’re werewolves. A separate people, with our own customs, our own traditions.”

My heart thudded against my ribs as I glanced at Darren. He was right, of course. We’d discussed the possibilities at length as we laid in the hospital bed. We’d considered the future, the chances of coexistence. Even now, after everything, those chances were still slim. There were many humans who still despised us, and many werewolves who felt the same about them.

“What are you proposing?” the president asked then, his brow furrowing.

Darren straightened, his gaze unwavering. “Freedom. Liberty. The pack lands recognized as one independent nation. We’ll govern ourselves, protect our own. But we’re not looking for war. We’ll be allies—peaceful ones—with your people, moving forward together. I want a treaty, signed and sealed, to ensure it.”

The president stared at us, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. A tense silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping he would accept our proposal.

Finally, the president rubbed a hand over his face, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re asking for true and complete sovereignty. A unified nation within our borders—or rather, beside them. No longer multiple tribal states.”

“Exactly,” Darren said flatly, holding the president’s gaze.

There was another pause, longer this time. The president’s eyes flicked between us, searching, considering.

After what felt like an eternity, to my surprise, the president nodded. “Alright. I’ll agree to it. An independent werewolf nation, allied with us. A peace treaty to seal the deal. More negotiations will be necessary, of course, but it’s a start.”

Relief hit me hard like a spark catching dry tinder in my chest, but I didn’t let it show on my face—not yet, anyway. Rather, I willed my expression into calm composure, the perfect image of a Luna Queen who couldn’t be swayed when it came to my people.

Over the next several hours, we perfected the treaty—discussed amendments, negotiated borders.

Finally, the treaty was complete. The pack lands, all of them, would be recognized as a single sovereign nation with an Alpha King and Luna Queen at the lead. We would be allied with the humans, a promise of peace for the foreseeable future, but under our own rule. Trade between the pack lands and the human world would be negotiated in due time, and werewolves and humans alike would be permitted to apply for citizenship in either country.

Two countries, living on one land—wound around each other like vines in the forest. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

The president signed his name first at the bottom. Then, he passed the pen to Darren, who met my gaze for a fleeting second. His eyes held a question in them, as if asking my permission before the treaty was finalized.

I nodded, a small, shaky smile tugging at my lips.

With that, Darren pressed the pen to the paper, signing his name—Darren Avarise, Alpha King. He stared at the signature for a moment, inhaling deeply as he studied it. Finally, he slowly handed the pen to me, our fingers brushing as I took it from him.

I took a breath, my hand trembling just slightly as I leaned over the treaty. The room seemed to shrink to that single sheet, to the weight of the pen between my fingers. Finally, I signed my name beside his.

Aria Avarise. Luna Queen.