Chapter 127

The night before the pro-integration rally, I couldn’t sleep. I was spending the night at the mansion, and I should have felt safe, wrapped up in Andrew’s arms. Instead, I kept twisting and turning until I finally couldn’t take the constriction anymore.

I wiggled out of his arms and headed for the en suite bathroom. Inside, I left the door open and immediately went for the sink. I ran some ice-cold water and threw it on my face, hoping that the cold sensation would shock the grim thoughts out of my head.

I stared at myself in the mirror, watching the droplets of water drip down my skin. Images of “DIE MUTT” etched into my car flashed through my mind. “Or else” echoed in my ears.

“Crystal, are you all right?” Andrew asked, breaking my trance.

I jumped slightly and turned to face him. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His pajamas clung tightly to his muscular form, inviting me to come back to bed and ravish him.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just…”

I trailed off as he arched a brow at me. Of course, he could tell that I wasn’t fine. I couldn’t—shouldn’t—lie to him.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m not fine. I can’t sleep. I’m worried about this pro-integration rally tomorrow.”

“Why? We’ve had such an outpouring of support and love from voters since your interview.”

“We’ve also had an outpouring of death threats, too.” I ran my hands over my face and through my hair. “They clawed my car, Andrew.”

Andrew walked up to me and put his hands on my upper arms, rubbing them up and down soothingly.

“They’re only words, Crystal,” he said. “Words from cowards who will do nothing about it.”

“What about the shooting?” I asked. “If your supporters who thought that I was getting in the way of your reelection were willing to do that, who’s to say that your opponents won’t do something more?”

Andrew leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. I sighed. I was tired of him acting as though that simple act could force all my dark thoughts away.

“I promise that nothing like the shooting will ever happen again,” he assured me. “We have more guards than ever, and there will be plenty of police at this event as well. Don’t you trust me?”

I stepped forward and closed the space between us, allowing Andrew to wrap his arms around me. I placed my head on his shoulder, and he started to stroke my hair. I closed my eyes and let his motions calm me.

“Yes,” I said, “I trust you.”

The next day at noon, I stood by Andrew’s side behind a podium atop a mobile metal stage. I cringed as the stage creaked beneath me each time I shifted, but I assured myself that it was sturdy enough to hold everyone and everything that stood on top of it. After all, that’s why they built these things.

Andrew and I faced an enormous crowd of thousands, far larger than any that I had faced at Andrew’s press conferences thus far. I clung tightly to Andrew’s arm, and he smiled reassuringly down me.

We must have appeared to be the picture-perfect couple, the poster children for the bridge between werewolves and humanity. Good. That was exactly the image that we needed.

I turned back to the cheering crowd and smiled when I saw Mike and Suzanne at the front of the gathered werewolves, humans, and hybrids. I needed to remember to introduce them to Andrew after our speech. I waved, and they waved back, grinning broadly.

Andrew cleared his throat and leaned down towards the microphones, still holding onto my arm.

“Ladies, gentlemen, fellow pro-integrationists,” he called out, “thank you for joining us here today. Crystal and I could not be more excited to see so many supportive faces from both the werewolf and human communities gathered in one place. It means so much to us that you could come out and celebrate the progress being made in werewolf and human interactions.”

My turn in the speech had come, but a slight ticking sound from beneath us had distracted me. I glanced at Andrew to see if he had caught on to it, but if he had, he was not letting me know.

“As one half of a werewolf-werewolf hybrid couple and, more importantly, as a werewolf/human hybrid, I know how hard it can be to battle against the stigma of werewolf/human interactions,” I began, trying my best to ignore the ticking. “Hybrids are envied and coveted, maligned and held to a higher standard. We are seen as monstrous mutations and as heavenly angels that no one else can compare to—”

“Crystal, look out!” Andrew cried as the ticking ceased. He trapped me in his arms and yanked me back.

Then, all hell broke loose.

The podium we had been standing behind exploded, sending wood and silver shrapnel in all directions. Screaming erupted. The crowd dispersed.

Andrew and I were thrown back by the force of the bomb, falling into the metal folding chairs and their occupants behind us. Shock ran through me as my side hit the metal of the stage. Pain and burning pierced my ribs, my leg, and my arm as the parts of my body that Andrew had not covered were stabbed by flying pieces of debris.

The silver stung and coursed through my veins. I could barely register Andrew’s bodyweight on top of mine, my body was so focused on the pain being brought by this malicious metal. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I prayed to the Moon Goddess for it to stop.

“Hang in there, Your Highness, Crystal,” I heard a man’s muted voice say. “Help is on the way. Just hang in there.”

My vision began to blur as I saw the outline of who I assumed was Jeffrey hovering over us. The blurriness turned to darkness. Soon, the darkness consumed me.

I awoke hours later. The bright lights hurt my eyes as I tried to get my bearings, but I was soon able to tell that I was in a hospital room. In the bed next to mine lay Andrew, as bandaged and connected to machines as I was. At least he appeared to be breathing and awake.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, a small smile appearing on his face. “How are you?”

“I…don’t know.” I smacked my lips. “Thirsty, I guess.”

“Michael! Help Crystal with her water.”

I watched in surprise as Andrew’s new top advisor came forward and assisted me with my glass of water and straw.

“Not too much,” Michael said as he pulled the water away from me and set it back on my bedside table. “It might make you sick.”

“Thank you,” I said. I turned back to Andrew. “What happened?”

Andrew looked across the room.

“Head Wolf Antoine?” he said.

I turned to where Andrew was facing and watched as Antoine stepped forward, his back straight and his chin lifted so that he looked down on me.

“As I was just explaining to His Highness,” Antoine said, “a human anti-integrator infiltrated the set-up crew for the pro-integration rally and planted a silver bomb in the podium. He has been captured and detained, but we are still questioning him to see if he had any co-conspirators.”

“Was anyone else hurt?” Andrew asked.

“Yes, unfortunately, about one hundred people—werewolf, human, and hybrid—were caught in the blast,” Antoine replied. “No one was killed, fortunately, but several are still in surgery to get the shrapnel removed.”

“Like you, however, they should all heal,” Michael added with an optimistic tone.

“How long will that take?” Andrew said.

“The silver will slow down the healing process for both of you,” Michael replied, “but it should only take a few days. You should be out of the hospital and be able to continue the healing process at home tomorrow or the day after.”

“You hear that, Crystal?” Andrew directed at me. “We’ll get to go home tomorrow, and no one was killed. Isn’t that great news?”

I stared at my lap but did not respond.

“Crystal, did you hear me?”

I had heard him. I had also heard Antoine.

One hundred people, injured, many vulnerable to silver, just like us. Others human and unable to heal quickly like us. Several still in surgery.

All over our relationship and werewolf/human integration.

“Crystal,” Andrew said, his voice more panicked now, “are you all right?”

My voice was quiet as I replied, “This is our fault.”