Chapter 152

When I returned to the mansion from the police station, Andrew had breakfast ready for me and was waiting for me with a broad smile on his face. I found it very sweet but odd, considering that it was a little late for him to still be at the mansion with the schedule that he usually maintained.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” I said as I took the seat that he pulled out for me. “Are you playing hooky for me?”

“Only a little bit,” he said, sitting down at the head of the table. He poured a cup of coffee for each of us. “Just long enough to have breakfast with you and give you some exciting news.”

I poured some milk and French Vanilla creamer into my coffee. I tilted my head curiously at Andrew as I stirred the concoction.

“Oh?” I asked. “What news could that be?”

Andrew grinned and practically bounced in his seat. I had never seen him so excited before.

“In ten days, I am going to be at the center of a ceremonial coronation for my re-election as Alpha King, and I want you to attend with me.”

My eyes flew wide open. I grabbed both of Andrew’s hands and squeezed tightly.

“Of course, I’ll go with you, Andrew!”

My mind drifted to the opulence of such an event. I wondered about what kinds of outfits would be worn, and I quickly realized that none of the outfits that I had could hold a feather to the ones that would be on display that day. My joy deflated.

“I’m so sorry, Andrew, I would love to go, but…” I blushed when I thought about how silly it sounded. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Andrew shook his head and chuckled.

“That’s the part of the news that I haven’t gotten to tell you yet,” he said. “I’ve arranged for a dress to be made for you specifically for this event. You have a fitting this afternoon.”

I couldn’t help myself; I squealed in delight and leapt onto Andrew’s lap, wrapping my arms his neck. I pulled him close to me and kissed him deeply.

He pulled himself away, laughing.

“You’re pleased, I take it?” he asked.

I nodded enthusiastically. I trailed my finger down his torso, towards pants.

“Let me show you how much,” I whispered in his ear.

I kissed him on the neck, then slowly made my way down.

“Raise your arms,” the seamstress ordered.

For what felt like the millionth time that afternoon, I lifted my arms. I was starting to feel as though this woman just liked to torture me by seeing how many ways in which she could get me to bend, lift, and suck in different parts of my body.

She pinched the scarlet silk of the dress.

“We’re going to need to take the waist in a couple inches,” she said as stuck the needle in the folded fabric. “What do you think of the length?”

I examined myself in the three mirrors that surrounded us. I had to admit, her attitude aside, this seamstress knew her work.

The red silk dress accentuated my curves, outlining the tops of my breasts with a sweetheart neckline and pinching inward at my waist. The scooping back showed off just enough skin to be tantalizing while remaining sophisticated enough for an event like Andrew’s coronation. The two-layered skirt—silk and lace—just barely swept along the floor as I moved.

“I love it,” I said.

“Nothing shorter, maybe something to show off your ankles?” the seamstress asked.

I shook my head.

“No. This is perfect.”

“Okay. Let me just check your sleeves, and then we should be done.”

I lowered my arms without any prodding. The seamstress grabbed my arm anyway and roughly twisted it so that my inner arm was exposed to her. My heart raced, but I wasn’t sure why.

The seamstress rolled the sleeve above my wrist.

“I think I like the fabric covering my wrist,” I said.

“You’ll look better with a half-sleeve,” she said curtly.

I did not dare object to that tone.

As the seamstress grabbed her needle, Susan growled inside me.

“Calm down,” I commanded my wolf. “She’s just doing her job.”

“Look at it,” Susan barked. “It’s silver!”

Before I could register what Susan had said, I felt something sharp pierce the skin of my wrist, followed by horrible burning that spread throughout my veins.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed.

My vision started to turn black, and I felt my legs give out from under me.

“Crystal!”

Jeffrey was by my side in an instant. He pulled something out of my wrist, and I felt his hand enclose the wound.

“Someone,” he called out as I lost consciousness, “call 911!”

Andrew felt as though he had been in this interrogation room far too often lately. Pacing could not even burn off the fiery energy that resided within him now, but it was all that he could try to control himself.

This attempt had been far too close. Even worse, he had not been there to protect her. If Jeffrey had not been there, Andrew did not want to think what would have happened.

He stopped pacing and turned to face the seamstress. She was middle aged, unassuming, as about under-the-radar as one could get.

The perfect assassin, he thought.

“So, tell me, Ms. Lambert, why did you try to kill Crystal Blanchard?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” the seamstress replied, her tone and expression blank.

“Then how did that silver needle get into her wrist?”

“It was an accident. I meant to stick it in the sleeve of her dress, and I missed. She must have moved.”

“Mm-hmm. She moved, and so you missed the sleeve by several inches and got directly in a vein in her wrist instead.”

Andrew cracked his neck.

“Let’s be honest with each other here, Ms. Lambert. You used a silver needle on purpose, and you stuck that silver needle in Crystal’s wrist on purpose.”

He stared directly into her eyes until she was forced to look away.

“Perhaps I did. What of it?”

“Using silver against a werewolf or hybrid is a crime akin to attempted murder, Ms. Lambert—” Andrew leaned forward on the table— “but as a pureblood werewolf yourself, I’m sure that you knew that. So tell me, why did you stick Crystal with a silver needle and hospitalize her?”

Ms. Lambert glared momentarily at Andrew before looking away again.

“Because you two do not deserve to be Alpha King and the Alpha King’s Luna. Werewolves and humans must remain pure of each other.”

Andrew’s hand curled into a fist, but he did not otherwise indicate his anger.

“First of all, Crystal is not my Luna…yet. Secondly, you are telling me that you did this over anti-integration sentiments?”

“Hybrid mutts like Crystal are abominations.”

Andrew breathed slowly in and out.

“Did you have any co-conspirators?”

“No. I acted alone.”

“No one told you to do this?”

“No.”

Andrew stared at the woman for a moment, searching her mind. She was telling the truth. Bob was not involved, this time.

“Very well. It’s up to the justice system to decide what to do with you now.”