Page 2 of Faking with the Fae King

“Sorry.” I give him a sheepish smile. “I didn’t get my grandmother’s baking gene.”

He frowns harder. Here it comes, the question he asks at every meeting. Autumn rolls her eyes behind his back, and Skye fights down a giggle.

“When are you going to get more tourists for the town, young lady?” Reginald grumbles. “In my day, Ferndale Falls was busy and popular.”

My smile slips. I’ve worked overtime for years, trying everything I can. “I—”

“Hannah!” Jared yells, then catches himself and adds my title. “Mayor Wylde! You have to come quick!” He races up the central aisle and vaults a wooden chair Mrs. Greely left in the way, the thick muscles of his thighs straining his blacklycra cycling shorts. That’s not exactly shocking—anytime he isn’t glued to his racing bicycle, he moves quickly, as if he’s so addicted to speed he can’t stand to walk like a normal person—but the panicked look on his perpetually sunburnt face is new.

“What is it, Jared?”

“A palace!” He shoves his fancy wrap-around sunglasses up onto his head, leaving him with a reverse raccoon of pale skin around his eyes. Jared jabs a finger toward the north, in the direction of the waterfall that gives the town its name. “It appeared out of nowhere! It’s massive!”

What the hell? Forget worrying about big butterflies and feelings of electricity in the air. There’s no way I can hide a whole freaking palace!

Shock spins me around so quickly a lock of hair gets stuck to my lips. I push the strands away as I dart forward. In no time at all, I’m back outside.

Before I make it more than a few feet, Jared stampedes past me, only to come to a dead stop. I crash into his spandex-covered back and bounce off. I’m tall at almost six feet, but Jared’s thighs alone have more muscle mass than I have on my entire body.

“Oww, Jared.” I rub my smarting nose. “That hurt.”

Instead of offering any kind of apology, he points into the sky.

I squint upward into the bright blue of a clear summer day.

The rest of the townspeople from the meeting fill in behind me. Someone gasps, “What’s that?”

After blinking a few more times, I finally make out a darkdot that grows larger the longer I stare at it. Black wings furl wide on each side of the body, but…

“What the hell is that?” I ask, forgetting to say heckity heck, the kid-friendly phrase I normally use in public. “That’s no bird.”

I expect tsks and titters for the strong language, but none of the town elders say athing, which says a lot about how shocked everyone is.

A man descends from the heavens like a dark and sinful god, smoke wings cupping the air to either side.

His cheekbones are so sharp they can cut glass, and the wind lifts his long black hair until it flows around him with a life of its own. Damn, he’s got great hair. I always thought I had pretty good hair, but his is on a whole other level.

He’s dressed in skin-tight black leather pants and a white shirt that’s unbuttoned so far down the front it looks like it would fall off if it weren’t for the pinstriped blue waistcoat molded to his broad chest.

Whoa. Who knew waistcoats could be so hot?

He’s rolled the shirtsleeves to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms, which are covered in flowing tattoos, dark against his fair skin. Matching tattoos also decorate what I can see of his chest. Is he tattooed everywhere? What does a girl need to do to find out? I volunteer to lead the exploratory team—for science!

As he comes closer, more details become clear. His ears are pointed, and his wickedly sinful smirk shows off a pair of fangs.

Hands raise phones all around me, aiming them at the sky.

“He’s an angel!” Skye breathes.

“Or a demon,” Autumn says. “One of the sexy kinds.”

“No,” I say. “He’s a fae.”

A month ago, I met a few fae orcs and shifters, but it’s been quiet since then, so I hoped the fae would continue to stay away from Ferndale Falls.

But this new guy squashes that wish flat. More fae have found their way to Earth. Only, what kind is he? I’ve never seen one with shadow wings. And if the silver crown on his head is any indication, he’s a king.

King or not, I don’t care how hot he is—he’s not going to endangermytown!

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