Page 45 of Outcast Fae
This would also make us weak if any crazy beasts attacked or those werewolves made a reappearance. What were they thinking getting drunk when we had no idea what might come at us? My unease grew as the empty coconuts piled up.
After five or more coconuts, Wally was on his feet, arms up in the air as he swayed his hips.
Patricia grabbed two fallen sticks and handed them to her quiet campmate. “Give us a beat, Chan. He’s in a band,” Patricia said, getting to her feet to dance, appearing quite loose and relaxed. The mood had certainly changed as inhibitions fell off.
“That’s some great beatboxing, Chan,” Daniella said, giving him a shy smile.
He smiled back, just as shyly.
Maybe a little relaxation wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Maybe we all needed this, and I was worrying too much, but I was still wary. The island had been nothing but trouble.
Elon kicked back while the young witch and warlock began to dance, too, weaving their hands and adding a magical bit of music of their own.
Sinasre smiled at me from across the pit and jerked his head to one side, inviting me to dance. I didn’t want to dance, but I was on my feet in an instant, knowing this was my chance to speak to him without the others listening in. I had so many questions to ask him, and this provided the perfect opportunity.
He grabbed my hand and twirled me around. He laughed as he engulfed me in his strong arms. His breath smelled of coconut and alcohol. He was a little loose himself.
For the first time, I noticed Vaughn watching us. His jaw was set, and his green eyes seemed to smolder with anger as if he didn’t like seeing us together at all. For a second, I imagined he was jealous, but that was just foolishness. He had been angry and suspicious when we first met by the stream. He didn’t trust my kind, and he was probably imagining we were plotting against him.
Let him think whatever he wants. There was too much I needed to know, and he wasn’t going to keep me from talking to my cousin. When Sinasre started drifting away from the group, I went willingly. He laughed as we swayed at the rhythm of Chan’sbeatboxing, an interesting musical sound coming from his mouth, unlike anything I’d ever heard.
“How did you end up here?” Sinasre asked, a drunken smile plastered on his face, though his voice sounded quite sober. It seemed he was pretending to be drunk. Clearly, he had noticed Vaughn’s hostility and thought it best to play the fool rather than cause conflict.
“I was accused of beating up a High Council member,” I said in a quick breath. “But I didn’t do it. They took me at night, by force.”
“It sounds like what happened to me. We were framed as the humans say.”
I nodded.
He twirled me again. My feet traced circular patterns in the sand.
“Tally, I think someone is targeting the royal family,” he said. “After seeing you here, I’m convinced.”
“But who? Why?” As soon as I asked, I knew the answer. There was one sworn enemy to the Seelie crown. He’d been against us long before getting stranded in this realm.
Seeing the understanding in my expression, Sinasre nodded. “King Oberon.”
King Oberon was the Unseelie King, a trickster, and chaos-maker who had wanted Alanthyl for himself. Only the strength of my aunt, Queen Kiana, kept him from taking control. When we’d all ended up in the human realm, I thought the feud would die out. We fae had nothing anyone would want, but Oberon still seemed determined to make our lives worse than they already were.
“But what do our past quarrels matter here?” I asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine. He sided with The Bane before. Oberon is capable of anything and will do whatever it takes to improve his situation. He must be planning something.”
For a fae to side with the one who had destroyed everything was the utmost disgrace. It just showed the lengths Oberon was willing to go. Framing us for his own gain would be nothing compared to that. I shook my head, feeling dizzy with all the thoughts swirling inside it. I couldn’t begin to imagine what wicked plots the King of the Unseelie Court could be devising against us.
I was about to ask about the Queen and King—Sinasre’s parents—when Vaughn appeared at our side, his face a perfect mask of anger.
“What are you two plotting?” he demanded.
Sinasre let me go and took two stumbling steps backward, plastering a silly smile on his face. “Nothing, wolfie.”
I winced. That was not the right choice of words.
Fast as a gust of wind, Vaughn was on Sinasre, tackling him to the ground. They rolled over the sand, wrestling, trying to immobilize each other and failing. They scrambled and kicked, looking more like squabbling children than warrior males.
I burst out laughing.
They stopped rolling on the sand and glanced in my direction. Their puzzled expressions made me laugh even harder.
