That afternoon, Desi found herself sitting in her dad's study, surrounded by those big, leather-bound law books and political tomes that had shaped the Whitmore family's way of thinking for three generations. The air smelled like a mix of old paper, polished wood, and a faint trace of bourbon: the kind her dad sometimes sipped when burning the midnight oil.
"Tell me about the Riverside Accords," David said, settling behind his hefty oak desk, that familiar look of quiet command on his face: the kind that made even the toughest Alpha wolves sit up and take notice.
Desi straightened, shifting gears from daughter to student. "1987. There was this nasty territorial feud between the Montague and Capulet packs that threatened to throw the whole Pacific Northwest into chaos."
"Casualties?"
"Fourteen dead, including innocents. The violence kept ramping up until outside forces stepped in."
"How did they fix it?"
"The Southern Alliance put people in a room on neutral ground. They used economic carrots and political sticks to cool things off." Desi hesitated, catching the edge in her dad's question. "But the real hate underneath? That never got touched. The families still despise each other."
"Right on the money." David leaned back, eyes distant. "The Accords stopped the bloodshed, sure. But they were a patch, not a cure. They managed the crisis instead of healing the wound."
"So... success or failure?"
"Both, really. That's diplomacy in a nutshell." He slid a thick folder across the desk. "Read this."
Inside were detailed files on pack conflicts all over North America: territory battles, resource squabbles, who'd inherit what. Each one laid bare with casualty stats, economic impacts, and how they'd tried to solve things.
"What am I supposed to find?"
"Patterns. What works, what falls flat."
For the next hour, Desi dove into the reports, her brain ticking over, sorting and connecting dots. Slowly, themes took shape.
"The wins all included cultural swaps," she said finally. "Education programs. Economic ties that made the groups dependent on one another."
"And the losses?"
"They just stopped the fighting without tackling the deep-rooted grudges." Looking up, realization hit. "You can't negotiate hate away. You gotta change how people think."
"Exactly. Now? Stick that in your back pocket for what happened at the Summer Gathering."
Desi cringed at the reminder. "I put a stop to the bullying, but I didn't fix the deep prejudice Omegas face."
"Tactical win, strategic miss," David agreed. "Plenty of folks who care get tangled like that: good intentions mixed with emotional reactions instead of systematic fixes."
"But Tommy needed help then and there. I couldn't just stand by while getting the politics just right."
"Could you have?" David's tone softened but held a challenge. "What if your quick action pushed the problem underground? What if those Alpha families got smarter about hiding their discrimination?"
That idea hit Desi like a punch to the gut. She'd been so focused on Tommy that she hadn't thought about the bigger fallout.
"Maybe I made things worse."
"Maybe," David said, "or maybe you sent a warning that gave others pause. The point is, you won't know if you act only from the heart instead of with a plan."
Staring down at the scattered files, Desi felt the heavy weight of unintended consequences. "So... what should I have done?"
"Well, document it. Build trust with witnesses. Dig into harassment laws. Put together a plan for the pack council about systemic discrimination." His voice was calm, patient. "Make change that sticks, not just quick fixes."
"That'd take months."
"Real change usually does."
"And Tommy would've kept suffering meanwhile."
"Tommy was suffering anyway, unless you wanted to shadow him forever." David's eyes locked on hers. "Your drive to protect the vulnerable is what this world needs. But your approach needs sharpening."
"Knowledge is power, baby girl. Use it wisely," Patricia's voice floated in from the doorway as she entered with tea and settled beside Desi. "And wisdom means knowing when and how to wield that power."
"I just... when I see injustice, I can't stand by."
"You're not supposed to," Patricia said firmly. "But you've got to fight smarter, not just faster. Think about lasting change, not just band-aids."
"The Alphas are still mad about the Summer Gathering," David said. "They think you embarrassed them. That makes them less likely to back anything you push next."
"So I should have let them save face while they keep discriminating?"
"You've got to give them a way to solve the problem without handing them public shame." Patricia's tone was that of someone who's brokered peace between sworn enemies. "Politics is a dance of giving a little so you can get a lot."
Desi nodded slowly, sinking into the complexity of it all: the egos, the strategic give-and-take. "I made it personal instead of procedural."
"Bingo. Personal fights get messier than policy battles."
"That's what Moonrise Academy will teach me," David said. "How to build alliances, juggle competing interests, and craft solutions that fix the root causes, not just treat symptoms."
"But I don't want to lose my fire for justice."
"The best diplomats never lose that fire," Patricia assured her. "They just learn to channel it into the long game."
As the Georgia dusk settled outside, Desi sat surrounded by decades of diplomatic wisdom and hard lessons. The Summer Gathering taught her good intentions aren't enough: real change demands system smarts and relationship building beyond knee-jerk reactions.
Moonrise would teach her that. To be the leader who changes the game, not just the players.
But first, she'd have to learn how to balance heart and strategy in the wild world of supernatural politics.