Fairy Dust

~Chapter 7~

Chapter 7

>>Multimedia picture is of Siobhan>>>>>>>

“How is that possible?”

“How is what possible?”

“You know… this!” He said pointing at his collar.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Mr. Beta,” I knew I was being obnoxious but their expressions were priceless to say the least.

“Do not play dumb with me fairy girl.”

I gave him a doe eyed look, “who said I was playing?”

“Where the hell did you get that?” barked out the alpha garnering the other teenaged fairies’ attention. And as much as I’d like to say it, I cannot deny the fact that I was thoroughly aware of Easton’s intense stare that fluttered my heart a little bit too much.

“Ohh,” I dragged out, “you mean that.” I said pointing to his dust covered shirt. Wanting to faze them once again, I removed the small cork covered bottle from my leg and raised it to them. Inside there was about two to three pinched left of the magical dust.

Again their eyes became mesmerized and it was the beta who spoke first; “yeah, that.” Looking back up at me he tilted his head and asked, “Where’d you get it?”

I felt the other fairies’ eyes on me awaiting my answer.

Like hell I was going to tell him the truth.

“Oh you know,” I said dismissively and hid it away again, “here and there.”

A growl erupted from the beta’s chest, which was caused by my taunting and I felt proud of my antics. “Like fu—“

“Brett,” the alpha barked with his eyes ablaze. “How about you go show those other wingers around the house,” he said crisply, pointing to the other fairies behind him. It was then when I realized that my brother wasn’t among them, weird.

“But,” the beta started but was cut off by a fierce growl emerging from deep within the alpha which violently shook me. Brett breathed out heavily, “fine. Okay you wingers follow me.” He turned around and led Siobhan, Art, Branna, and all the other fae into the white house. I watched them intently, jealous of the fact that they were not under the alphas intense gaze like myself.

Me staring at them was the equivalent to me trying to ignore the inevitable conversation that was about to ensue.

“Name?” Easton asked, removing me from my hopes and dreams which involved him not talking to me.