Page 56 of Faking with the Fae King

Autumn asks, “Okay, spill the goods. How was it?”

“I’ll say this much.” My lips curl. “There sure as hell wasn’t anything fake about the orgasms he gave me.”

Skye gasps, “Orgasms, as in plural?”

Autumn shoots me a questioning look and holds up two fingers.

I shake my head and hold up three.

They both shriek with laughter, and I join them, already feeling tons better. Chatting with my besties is exactly what I needed.

Whatever this is with Severin, I’ll figure it out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Severin

Whatever this is with Hannah, I need answers to figure it out.

And Lukendevener certainly isn’t helping. The dragon stares at me for several prolonged moments, his face completely impassive but for one lifted eyebrow. Finally, he says, “Can you repeat the question?”

Goddess, why did I give up being feared? If I were feared, I could simply torture the answer out of him instead of being the one tortured. And make no mistake, talking to him about Hannah is the very worst sort of torture.

I grind my teeth together in frustration, then force myself to bite out the words.Again. “If two people combine the essence of their magic, does it cause any type of reaction?”

“Hmm.” He begins to pace back and forth across thecentral area of his library, his wings brushing the hanging clusters of wisteria flowers and setting them swaying.

Since I couldn’t sleep, I stayed up most of the night researching everything I could find on Hannah’s magical power. Fatigue means I have even less patience than usual, and his dithering is getting on my last nerve.

“When you say ‘reaction,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“A physical reaction.”

“That’s hardly edifying.” The dragon halts, his tail swishing back and forth. “I can’t answer your question if I don’t have enough details.”

“A sexual reaction.” I slam my hands onto the table and push to standing. “There. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not particularly, but it is much more specific.” He stalks off, heading for one of the labyrinthine hallways.

“Where are you going?”

“To search for Cassius’s studies from 1649.”

“You don’t know where they are? This isyourlibrary. How can you not know where they are?”

Instead of answering, he disappears around a corner. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Who knows when I’ll see him again. Ten minutes? A day? A year?

“I can’t stay here,” I mutter, stalking from the room.

Armed with answers or not, it’s time to find Hannah.

The rich smells of baked goods and berries tease my noseright as loud cries of “Pizza” assault my ears. Slice of Life is full of a mix of humans and shadow fae, with more of my people lined up outside the door.

And who can blame them? The poorly staffed kitchen at the palace continues to subject us to porridge that is somehow both watery and lumpy. If this had happened back when I was leading battles, I’d assume the chef is a rebel with a dastardly plot to overthrow me via inadequate breakfasts.

Rune gives me an “all-clear” nod from where he stands against the back wall of the restaurant, his eyes cool and assessing as they constantly scan the crowd.

“King Severin.” Blue flies toward me, her little face glowing, literally, with both magic and happiness. “See how the pixies thrive! Everyone agrees we have all the best pizzas.”

---