Page 30 of The White Stag
“They don’t just make candles. Many of them are healers, and we got our healing tonics from them.”
“They also have the best drink recipes,” Tucker said, coming into the room with a tray. “One of my boyfriends is a Hag, and I made his best hits.”
That was also totally valid. Also, totally awesome. Finnan was a talented mixologist, but I wasn’t going to say no to drinks made by someone dating a Hag.
“Get that sweet ass over here with those drinks,” I said.
“You aren’t allowed to check out someone’s ass in front of fire signs, bro.”
“Your boyfriends aren’t here,” I pointed out.
“I wasn’t talking about them,” Tucker said, looking directly at Reagan.
Was he worried Reagan would get jealous about us platonically complimenting Tucker? That was just how things were in the Unseelie realm. Yeah, we had our mean girls and fakers, but if someone looked good or had a nice ass, you just told them.
And why would Reagan get jealous unless she told Tucker what we were all thinking but refusing to talk about? None of us were bringing feelings into this until she was safely home and met better men than Alastair and the human men she’d been around.
On second thought, maybenoneof us should drink Hag drinks tonight.
I didn’t even get a chance to say a damned thing about it because Reagan grabbed something sparkly and pink off the tray and just chugged it like a Centaur in a pub on two-dollar mead night. I would have had mad respect for that if alcohol had actually passed through that beautiful mouth before, and she had a tolerance for it. Instead, we were all just sitting there with our dicks in our hands, staring in awe as she drained the glass.
Reagan slammed the glass on the coffee table and wiped her mouth. If she wasn’t seeing noises yet, it would happen very soon.
“That was delicious. What flavor is the purple one?”
What the actual fuck? All of us were bigger than her with a much higher tolerance, but if we drank that fast, we’d be totally shit-faced. We didn’t have Superman and the superheroes she was used to in the human world, but we did have them. Any one of them would be drunk now.
“How do you feel?” Tucker asked, passing her the purple cocktail like it was candy. “Drink up, bitches.”
“I feel great. And I agree. Drink up, bitches.”
We all grabbed a drink off the table, and Cyrus cracked open a bottle of mead. Why did I get the feeling this baby Fae was going to drink us all under the table?
Reagan
This whole drinking thing was totally different from what I thought it would be. I wasn’t angry and miserable and hadn’t trashed the house. They kept telling me to listen to my body and stop when I started getting woozy, but that never happened. Instead, I felt good and relaxed. Most of the tension in my muscles was gone.
I couldn’t say the same for the guys. They were matching me and trying to navigate me through the world of buzzed and shit-faced. I was pretty sure we all had the same amount to drink, but they were all shit-faced, and I was just buzzed.
“This is so wrong,” Finnan moaned. “I justdo notget drunk under the table by young Fae who have never had booze before.”
“Please.I’ma young Fae and could totally outdrink you. But this is my last drink. I’m going to be a hot mess if I have any more. But something tells me our princess could keep going, and none of you would have to keep your promise of holding her hair back,” Tucker said.
“Is that weird?” I asked.
I just really didn’t want to be weird. I was already going to be different from everyone in the Unseelie Realm, and they expected me to eventually be queen. I didn’t grow up there. I loved everything they told me about their home, but it differed from what I was used to. I wasn’t even detoxing off iron like everyone else. I was enjoying this feeling, but now I realized I was different with getting drunk too.
Oisin was drunker than everyone else. He wasn’t scary. He was kind of adorable. He raised his glass in the air and ended up spilling half of it on Cyrus. Cyrus was also drunk. He hissed at Oisin and tore his wet shirt off. I didn’t have to be buzzed to enjoy the view.
“Stop that nonsense,” Oisin slurred. “You’re utterly perfect. You’re completely gorgeous, and holding your liquor is something to brag about. You’ll need it when we get you home because we party all the time in the Unseelie Court. We’re going to take you tosomany parties, and everyone will be jealous that you’re on our arms.”
“Sooo jealous,” Finnan said, spillinghisdrink on Cyrus. “And it’s not the whole princess thing, either. You are fabulous.”
“If one more person spills a Hag drink on me, I’m going to get violent. I’m—”
“Someone dump their drink in his lap!” Tucker yelled. “Reagan is clearly enjoying the view. Let’s get him to take his trousers off too.”
“Ooh,” Finnan said, swiping a drink off of the tray. “We should all take our trousers off for her.”
