Chapter 196

I sat on the couch in my apartment watching some home makeover shows as I anxiously waited for the press conference to start. Jeffrey did his rounds nearby, pacing by the windows and keeping an eye out for any threats. I knew that his mind was partially on the upcoming press conference as well, so I insisted that he spend the time inside my apartment rather than securing the perimeter with the Special Guard.

I didn’t like not being there with Andrew, but I knew why I couldn’t be there this time. With my attacks getting worse, we couldn’t risk me having one in the middle of this press conference. There was too much at stake for both of us.

That didn’t mean that I had to like the feeling of being left behind or that I wasn’t supporting him as much as I could.

I tried to push those thoughts out of my mind as the scheduled time for the press conference neared. Physically there or not, Andrew would need me mentally present when the time came.

At 5 p.m. on the dot, Jeffrey turned to me and said, “It is time.”

I changed the TV to the local news station to find that the press conference was just beginning.

His head held high, Andrew stepped up to the podium in his striking navy-blue three-piece suit. He smiled warmly to the crowd and waved confidently, but the slight twinge in his jaw told me that he was barely holding himself together. He clutched the sides of the podium tightly, and I wished that I was there to hold his hand.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the press, for gathering here today,” he boomed into the microphones. “I have asked you to come here so that I might address the vicious rumors regarding my involvement with the werewolf criminal underworld, namely one Mr. Matteo Barone.”

Whispers broke out among the reporters. Andrew raised his hand, and silence immediately fell among the crowd.

“I am here to say that those rumors are just that, rumors.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“I did have to deal with an alleged crime boss—” Andrew was forced to silence another outbreak— “but it is not what the tabloids are making it out to be. I had to use this alleged crime boss to gather information on another. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The murmurs turned angry, as though they could tell that he was not being entirely truthful with them.

“There was an emergency that I could not require without this intel,” he continued. “What I did was for the safety and betterment of the werewolf community.”

I cringed at the mixture of lies and half-truths that Andrew was telling the press. I knew that he had to do this to maintain order in the werewolf community, but it still twisted my stomach to hear him do it.

“I will now take questions,” Andrew said.

He pointed to a young woman in the front row.

“Tori Sherman, San Franciso Chronicle,” she said. “Two inside sources, one for you and one for Matteo Barone, say that you made some sort of deal with Barone. Could you elaborate on that?”

“I had to deal with Mr. Barone, but no deal was made,” Andrew countered. “I cannot delve further into the exact details of what happened between Mr. Barone and me, but rest assured that thanks to that exchange, we now have once less scourge on our streets.”

His gaze returned to the crowd, who started their handwaving again. He pointed to a man in the back row.

“Oscar Nowak, Werewolf Gazette,” the man said. “Are you saying that these sources are wrong? Both are claiming to have been from deep inside their respective camps.”

Even on camera, I could tell that Andrew’s jaw was clenching.

“I do not know who these sources are as they have chosen to remain anonymous,” he began, “but I can assure you that they do not know the full truth of my dealings with Mr. Barone.”

That, I was certain was true. Even I did not know the entire truth of what went on behind those closed doors that day. A part of me did not want to know.

Andrew looked around the room, as though giving careful consideration to the next reporter he would choose. I knew better, though. He was stalling to minimize the number of questions he had to answer.

Finally, he settled on another woman in the front row.

“Emily Chang, The New York Times,” she introduced herself. “Your Highness, any amount of cooperation between the Alpha King and the criminal underworld is, to say the least, unprecedented. Is this the beginning of a new chapter in the relations between the werewolf government and its criminal counterpart?”

Andrew shook his head emphatically.

“No, absolutely not. We still have laws, and everyone is still expected to follow them. Those who won’t, can expect to be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

I smiled to myself, but the corners wavered. I hoped that statement was still true.

“I am sorry, but those are all the questions that I have time for today,” Andrew announced. “Thank you again for coming out. Any further questions may be directed to my media advisor, Dennis Andreas.”

I chuckled at the thought of Dennis having to deal with all the disgruntled reporters following this press conference.

I watched Andrew exit stage left, followed closely by his guard, as reporters cried after him to answer just one more question. I felt a mixture of pride and shame seeing him walk, his body so tense and clenched, out of view.

On the one hand, Andrew had handled himself quite well. He did not let the reporters’ questioning to shake him, and he had managed to hide the exact truth from the world for another day. I couldn’t help but to feel pride in my Alpha King for that.

On the other hand, he had lied to his constituents. He had mostly told half-truths, but he had lied as well. Was it truly in the best interest of the entire werewolf community—or was it only best for Andrew and me?

I turned off the TV and doubled over. My stomach was in knots. I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore.

Jeffrey must have taken notice of my posture because he stopped doing his rounds and stood in front of me.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I looked up at him, unsure of what I could trust the guard with.

“What do you think about what Andrew did?” I asked to test the waters.

Jeffrey took a moment to contemplate my question, staring off into space. Then he returned my gaze, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I think that he did what he thought was best for the werewolf community,” he bent over and whispered, “and for you in particular.”

So, he did know what Andrew had really done, or at least why he had done it.

“What about what he’s telling the public?” I asked.

Jeffrey did not answer for a moment.

“Andrew understands the political field better than either of us,” he finally answered. “He knows how best to handle this.”

“So, you’re not worried?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Our conversation came to an abrupt end when my phone rang. It was Andrew.

“You best get that,” Jeffrey said as he returned to his post.

As I answered my phone, Jeffrey’s final words echoed through my head.

I didn’t say that.