Page 100 of Faking with the Fae King

Next comes the cake. It’s so beautiful, iced white and decorated with intricate sugar flowers tinted in the palest blushes of pastels. It’s also a feat of engineering, with each tier on its own platform raised above the ones below using little columns.

“It seems a shame to cut it,” I whisper as Severin picks upthe knife.

“It would be more of a shamenotto eat it,” he murmurs, looking vaguely horrified at the thought of no cake.

He wraps my fingers around the hilt and curls his over mine as we cut and plate the first slice. Turning to face the crowd, he feeds me a small bite. The airy cake melts over my tongue in a burst of vanilla, followed by the sweet tang of raspberries as I get a bit of the filling.

“Oh, that’s good!”

He smirks. “Told you.”

I shove cake into that smirk, and he opens wide, his lips wrapping around my fingers and making me shiver.

He insists on hand feeding me a bite from every layer, each flavor more delicious than the last. I return the favor. By the time we finish, the crowd has grown restless, and my butterflies careen around on a sugar bender, excited by all the finger licking.

We step away from the cake, and Pepperpot springs forward, sending magic rippling through the air. In a flash, multiple pieces of cake from each layer are plated and spread across the table for people to choose from.

Mom walks up, looking a little dazed. “Your help is amazingly efficient. I’ve never seen anyone move so quickly.”

“Yep.” I grin, wondering what the protective spell showed her.

Pepperpot hands Severin a special cupcake with a little orange fox face on top, and we go over to feed the treat to Finn.

“For me?” His ears perk up. “I thought I couldn’t have cake.”

“This is fox cake.” Severin peels off the paper and sets the cupcake on the ground. “It’s made from nut flours.”

“It’s just for you, bud.” I lean over to scratch his ears. “A treat for the best ring and ribbon bearer ever.”

“Of course I am.” Then his nose is buried in his cupcake as he makes little snuffling noises.

The harpist finishes and takes a bow, and with his photographer duties mostly done, Jared takes over as DJ, starting us off with the father-daughter dance.

Dad walks me over to the grassy area set aside as the dance floor, and we do a basic waltz. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. You’ve really turned this place around.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I smile up at him. “Coming from you, that means a lot.” Out of everyone here, Dad probably has a better idea than anyone of the huge amount of change it took to get Ferndale Falls to where it is today.

“You know, we could use a young mover and shaker like you in the capital.”

His words thrill me. I’ve always looked up to him and longed for his approval. At the same time, I never really wanted his life: the one so busy he barely has time for family. Yet that’s almost what I became, these past couple of years: the person with no life but my job. Until Finn and his easy affection. Until the Witch Bitches and their support and friendship. Until all of Severin’s love and the quiet joy of relaxed mornings lazing in bed with him and cinnamon rolls.

I glance over the green, taking in all these people and the town, seeing everything I love the most in this world or any other. Then I look back at him. “Nope, sorry. Ferndale Fallsis home. I can’t imagine living anywhere but here.”

He gives me a wry smile and whirls me into one last spin before letting me go.

As soon as we finish, Naomi and May come over, hugging me in congratulations. Skye and Autumn join us, and we lose ourselves to the beat of some of our favorite songs from high school.

Several of the fae stand beside the dance floor, watching us. When I try to wave them over, Shadow leaps right into the middle of the group, shaking his groove thing and tossing his silver-tipped hair this way and that.

Rune and Luke both scowl and shake their heads, but they don’t leave. They just keep standing there like matching, grumpy mountains, staring at the dancers.

“What’s up with them?” I yell to Skye and Naomi, hooking a thumb toward the two men.

“No idea!” Skye shrugs, her eyes flicking toward the moody dragon.

Autumn adds, “Dance or go home, I say.” But even though she’s trying to sound blasé, she turns her back on them and does an extra butt shimmy.

The werewolf scowls even harder.

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