Chapter 126

I took a deep, shuttering breath as I opened the link to the digital copy of the premiere human/werewolf integration magazine Loup-Humain. My picture adorned the cover. Inside, there was an interview with me about my life as a human/werewolf hybrid in the limelight.

“Hey, that’s a great picture of you,” Terri said, looking over my shoulder. “You’re a hybrid? I didn’t know that.”

I shrugged, uncertain how to respond.

“Yeah, it doesn’t really come up a lot in conversation.”

“I mean, you smell different, but I haven’t come across many hybrids, so I didn’t know—”

“Yeah, I know, it’s okay.”

I blushed. This was part of the reason that I hadn’t wanted to reveal my hybrid status in the first place. So many people didn’t seem to know how to react once they learned.

“How could you not know that she’s a mutt?” Miranda spat. “Just look at her. She looks unnatural.”

I tried to take that as a compliment. Human/werewolf hybrids were popular due to their beauty.

Terri rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so jealous, Miranda,” she said. “Green really isn’t your color.”

I suppressed a smirk as Miranda huffed and charged back to the storage area. I returned to my phone and scrolled down to the comments and likes.

My eyes widened. Over 10,000 likes and counting.

“Are you reading these comments, Crystal?” Terri asked, reaching over my shoulder to point at the screen.

I assumed that she meant the hundreds of positive remarks that were pouring in from both the werewolf and human communities:

What an inspiration! She really is the best of what both species have to offer.

Crystal Blanchard is the perfect bridge between humanity and werewolves. I hope we get to see more of her.

She and Andrew definitely have my vote for Alpha King. They really know what it will take to heal the gap between our species.

All I could focus on, however, were the detractors:

No wonder she’s a hardened criminal. She’s a filthy mutt. She had no choice.

This is just further proof that werewolves and humans need to stick to their own kind. We don’t need any more abominations like her.

Crystal Blanchard is a disgusting mutt who should never have been born. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stop talking about her filthy mixed family and integration, or else…

The last comment stuck with me.

Or else.

It was not the only death threat mixed in with the remarks of support and love, as buried as they might have been, and that was what struck me the hardest. People were calling for my death simply because I was talking about my lineage and suggesting that werewolf/human integration was not a bad thing. It made me sick to my stomach.

“Hey, are you okay?” Terri asked.

“Yeah, I guess…I’m still getting used to all this attention,” I lied. There was no point in dragging her into my drama.

“Are you sure? I saw some pretty nasty comments in there.”

I sighed.

“I don’t get how people can be so horrible…”

Terri pulled out the binders that she had to work on for the day.

“Humans or werewolves, people are naturally horrible, bigoted beings,” she said. “They’ll look for a kink in your armor and then hammer away at it until they can make a hole—or at least a significant dent.”

I put my phone away and took out my binders as well.

“I suppose that you’re right. I just wished that they weren’t like that.”

“Well, on good days, you might be lucky enough to not be the victim of their ire,” Terri said, walking toward the table. “In fact, you might even be the benefactor of their kindness.”

Before I could respond, the door to the shop opened. A young man and woman stood in the doorway, seeming uncertain of themselves. They each held a magazine in their hands.

Assuming that they were potential clients, I set my binders on the counter and walked towards them, a smile plastered on my face.

“Hello, welcome to Ever After Weddings. How may I make your dreams come true today?”

Internally, I cringed at the greeting, but new couples always seemed to love it, and this one needed to be put at ease.

“Yes, are you Crystal Blanchard?” the woman asked.

“Yes, I am. How may I help you?”

“I’m Mike, a werewolf, and this is my girlfriend, Suzanne, a human,” the man said with a broad grin. “We’re pro-integration activists. We read your interview in Loup-Humain, and we just had to meet you.”

I took another look at the magazines in their hands and realized that they were physical copies of my edition of Loup-Humain.

“As an interspecies couple, we have so many questions for you,” Suzanne said. “Would you mind if we picked your brain for a little bit?”

I glanced at Terri, who motioned for me to roll with the situation.

“Uh, sure, but you guys should realize that I am at work, so if a phone call comes up or a client comes in, they’ll have to take precedent over your questions,” I replied.

“Of course, of course,” Mike said. “We’re just happy to get the perspective of such a famous hybrid.”

I blushed.

“I wouldn’t call myself ‘famous.’”

“Of course, you are!” Suzanne said. “You and Andrew are the face of werewolf/human integration. You’re going to change the world!”

Talking to Mike and Suzanne left me in oddly higher spirits. They had a lot of great ideas for making the process of integration smoother, and I was really rooting for them as a couple. They were going to be attending a pro-integration rally that Andrew and I would be speaking at in a couple days, and I promised to see them and introduce them to him at it.

I hadn’t completely forgotten about the death threats online. However, they suddenly seemed less significant to me. After all, who could take faceless threats seriously when people came to praise me to my face?

I left Ever After Weddings that evening with a much lighter heart than I had had that morning. I was looking forward to seeing Andrew and making him dinner at my apartment. We had been spending so much time at the mansion that I hardly got to see my own place anymore.

Of course, with the quality of apartment that I had at the moment, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Still, it would be nice to make Andrew some food for a change, rather than having a servant feed us. It was the little things that I missed—especially how close we would get while I was cooking in the kitchen.

I was shaken from these thoughts when I came upon my car in the parking lot. I froze where I stood and stared, aghast, at the destruction that I found.

All along the side of my Honda Civic were deep, fresh claw marks. Although most of the marks appeared random, on both doors a word had been etched in all caps. On the front door was the word “DIE”, and on the back was the “MUTT”.

I suppressed my repulsion as I approached the car. Carefully, I ran my fingers along the jagged lines, trying to get a sense of what had happened. I could still smell the perpetrators’ scents; purebred werewolves had done this, at least three of them.

I pulled away from the car and swallowed against the knot in my throat. I took out my phone and began to dial. There was only one person I could think to call, and it wasn’t the police.

“Andrew,” I said after he answered, “we have a problem.”