Chapter 129

Andrew’s mauve suit accented his form perfectly. Even from behind, he was a sight to behold.

I had to keep my hormones in check, though. It wouldn’t do for me to climb all over the Alpha King like a horny teenager during one of his reelection campaign rallies. No matter how tempting that particular forbidden fruit was.

I distracted myself by trying to follow his speech, but after listening to him practice it fifty times over dinner, it was hard to keep my attention on his words.

“With the help of my amazing, beautiful girlfriend, I will bridge the gap between werewolves and humans,” he called out with a confidence that no other man could rightfully carry. “There will be a long road ahead of us, and there will be detractors—and, yes, even dangers. However, together, we will overcome every obstacle that they throw our way.”

Applause rose, but Andrew lowered it with a motion of his hand.

“If we make werewolf/human interactions a priority, our world will not become a utopia, but it will become a more understanding place. We will be free of human anti-integration terrorism, and interspecies couples will be able to live in peace without fear of prejudice. Together, we can build a future better not just for one species but for all.”

Applause broke out again, and this time, Andrew could not contain it. The crowd leapt to their feet and cheered, their roars of approval echoing throughout the amphitheater. The sound was deafening, reminding me just how many people were in attendance.

Hundreds…thousands…just like the pro-integration rally…

I took a deep breath and counted to ten in my head. It calmed me for a moment, but soon the raucous applause overwhelmed me again. I grabbed my index finger and twisted it hard, hoping that the pain would distract me, but it grew numb as pressure built up in my ears and head.

I had to find a way to excuse myself, to get out of the spotlight long enough to calm down. I looked around for a way to escape, but nothing opened itself for an opportunity.

Suddenly, a camera flashed in the front row. Again. And again.

My eyes filled with the image of the light from the bomb from the pro-integration rally. I froze. My chest rose and fell rapidly as my breathing quickened beyond control.

I wanted to run, but I felt as though I might faint. Darkness closed in on the edges of my sight. I searched frantically for a way out, but even if I had found one, I doubted that I would have been able to move to reach it.

Then I felt a hand engulf each of my upper arms. Someone lifted me to my feet and guided me off the stage. Before I could register what had happened, I was sitting down in the green room backstage, Jeffrey standing over me.

“It’s okay, Crystal,” I heard him saying as my senses started returning to me. “Just concentrate on your breathing. In and out, in and out.”

I did as he said, focusing on my breath as it went in and out of my body. My heart rate slowed, and my body relaxed. My vision fully returned, and my hearing cleared.

I looked up at Jeffrey, who hovered over me like a protective lion.

“Better?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

He nodded back at me, then went to the door.

“It looks like Andrew is going to be done with his speech soon. We can wait for him by the stage, or we can stay here, whichever you prefer.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

“Good call.”

Beyond checking if I was okay, Andrew and I did not speak until we got into the Aston Martin. Andrew’s top concern was getting me out of the amphitheater without incident. As soon as Andrew’s driver, Carl, got us out of the parking lot, Andrew turned to me, eyes wide with concern.

“Seriously, Crystal, what exactly happened back there?” he asked.

“I don’t remember everything,” I replied, “but as Jeffrey explained it, I think I was having a panic attack or maybe a PTSD episode.”

“And you’re all right? Really all right?”

“I’m fine, now. A bit drained, but I’ll be fine.”

Andrew grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes.

“You really scared me. When I saw Jeffrey coming on stage and then turned around to see him having to practically lift you out of your chair, I thought that you were having an aneurysm or something.”

I leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

“That’s really sweet of you, but I’m fine.”

“What if you aren’t fine next time?”

My brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“What if you don’t pull out of it so easily the next time that you have one of these episodes?”

“Well then, I guess that someone will have to take me to the hospital or call Dr. Sherman…”

Andrew shook his head emphatically.

“I don’t want to the chance.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I don’t think that you should go campaigning with me anymore.”

My grip on Andrew’s hands tightened.

“The whole point of this new campaign is for us to highlight the positive aspects of our relationship and to show a united front. If I don’t show up at campaign rallies with you, won’t that prove counterproductive to our entire message?”

“We can find a new angle to work with. Your health, your psychological health, is more important than some campaign.”

“Do you think that I can’t handle being in public? After everything that you did to get me back out—”

“No, I’m not saying that at all.” Andrew sighed. “I’m just saying that rallies seem to be a trigger for you, so it might be best for you to avoid them—”

“But if I avoid them, then I’ll never be able to face this issue head-on—”

“But I can’t have you interrupting all my rallies just because you’re too stubborn to admit that you have a real problem!”

I ripped my hands away from his. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Is that why you’re really asking me to stay away? Because you think that my problem will disrupt your rallies? Do you even care that I had suffered some sort of episode?”

Andrew’s expression softened. He reached over and stroked the side of my face, wiping away some of my tears in the process. A part of me wanted to slap his hand away, but I ignored it and let him continue.

“Sweetheart, of course I care. It’s because I care that I don’t want you to be stuck in that situation again,” he said in a gentle tone. “I don’t want you to suffer what the tabloids will say if it keeps happening and word about it gets out.”

“But I want to be by your side,” I argued. “We said that we wouldn’t let the detractors win, and if we let this trauma get to me, then we’re letting the detractors win, too.”

Andrew nodded.

“I understand.”

He sighed.

“All right, you can keep campaigning with me,” he continued, “on one condition: I can put a stop to it any time if I believe that you are in any danger, either physically or psychologically.”

“Sounds fair.” I leaned forward and kissed Andrew again. “Thank you.”

He nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, “Thank me in the bedroom.”