Page 76

They close in on her, and a moment later, I hear her peeling laughter as they begin to twirl her between them.

I swivel to Des, and we have an entire conversation with our eyes.

That was fucking weird, my gaze says.

I know. It’s only going to get worse.

Des steps in close. “Would you like to—?”

Before he can finish his question, a fae noble cuts in, the man’s dark brown hair plaited into an intricate series of braids that spill down his back. “Desmond, Desmond, Desmond, you’re a hard man to get ahold of…” He pats my mate on the shoulder, angling him toward a waiting group of similarly dressed people.

Des resists, reaching a hand for me.

His companion pauses, noticing me for the first time. Or maybe the fairy was aware of me but didn’t want to acknowledge my presence. Despite their interest in me, I feel the subtle rebuffs coming my way. No fairy seems terribly eager to elevate a mere human to a status of importance, a king’s mate or not.

“You go on,” I say to Des. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

He frowns. “Later,” he reluctantly promises, looking unhappy about my decision to slip away.

I get that he wants me by his side, but it’s clear his audience wants him and him alone. And I’m not all that eager to stand next to him and play docile little mate while the rest of the fairies ignore me.

I back up, sensing that the crowd gathered here is still watching me. And that’s the irony of the situation. Pull me into a group, and I’ll probably be ignored for the conversation, but let me roam free, and every eye will be fixed on me.

Ignoring the looks, I back away, moving into the crowd until I find the woman I’m looking for.

“Finally, I get you to myself,” Temper says. “I was thinking I’d have to hex someone to get three freaking minutes with you.”

“I wish you had,” I mutter. At least then I’d stop feeling like the most unfortunate person at the party.

Temper arches a brow, beginning to smile. “Good to know…”

“I need something to drink.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my eyes dart to the fairy wine.

“I have you covered.” Temper takes my hand and tugs me toward the table of wine. “I thought you were taking a break from drinking?” she says over her shoulder.

Errr, I never actually admitted my sobriety was more Des’s idea than my own. “Break’s over.”

“Praise Jesus and all the baby angels,” she says. “Things are much more fun with a little bit of rum,” she sings, reciting a stupid song we came up with once upon a time in Vegas.

We get to the table and ladle ourselves each a glass of wine, carrying our bounty off once we each have a full cup. The two of us stick to the edges of the clearing, not fully in the party but not fully out of it either. We’re still those two misfits who met back at Peel Academy.

“Ahhh,” Temper sighs after she takes her first swallow. “Now this is good wine.”

I take a sip myself and—yum. Fairies make excellent wine. The two of us sip our drinks in silence, people watching.

“I hate this place,” Temper finally says. “I never thought I’d say that about the Otherworld,” she admits a bit quieter. “I built this realm up in my mind so much as a teen, and it looks even more beautiful than I could imagine it. Yet…” She exhales. “It’s like eating stale cereal. It seems fine on the outside, but once you bite into it, you have all the regrets.”

That’s…an apt way of putting it.

After a moment, Temper nods to the fairies mingling about the field. “Look at the way they stare at us. It’s worse than high school.”

In the darkness, I see the firelight flickering in their unnatural eyes. Their gazes indeed keep coming back to us.

“They’ve been staring at you too?” I ask, my brows rising.

“Since we rode in,” she says. “You’d think they’d never seen a human before.”

To be fair, I doubt they’ve ever seen a sorceress—or a winged siren.