Fever Fae - Meg Xuemei X Page 0,3
thing glared at me, hatred glowing in its murderous red eyes. Then it turned to a plume of smoke and sank into the ground.
Just like that, it was gone.
I cursed and halted in the middle of the yard, staring at the space where the nightmare had been, waiting for my brain to work again as reality and unreality blurred the line. Renewed fear washed over me, seizing my throat. How could I protect my family when no door or wall could stop the smoke monster from returning?
The uneasy feeling of being watched pulsed in me again, and the space between my shoulder blades prickled in cold air.
I snapped my attention in the direction I felt the unwelcome weight of the scrutiny. A giant man tried to blend into the shadow of an oak tree at the far end of my yard.
I narrowed my eyes in cold rage and fear. Had he sent the creature? Or did the monster turn into the man while it vanished as a puff of smoke? After that mind-bending phenomenon happened right in front of my eyes, I’d believe anything was possible.
Shadows hid the details of the stranger’s face, but surprise flitted across his expression as I stared him down, as if he never expected me to bust him.
The man peeled from the shadows and strolled toward me, his cold gray eyes never leaving mine. I sucked in a breath as the morning light revealed his gorgeous features. Silver hair flowed past his massive shoulders, complementing the high cheekbones and regal nose that could have been carved from ice. He was large, yet perfectly proportioned.
“Stop there!” I barked at the silver-haired dude. I wasn’t going to let my guard down just because he was pretty, especially after the assault of the monster.
From the corner of my eye, I caught another flash of movement.
A similar giant man with claret hair down to his tanned chin jogged toward me like a glorious sun god, his bright, predatory amber eyes snagging on me.
The tiny hairs on my arms stood to attention, yet part of me purred.
He wore a scarlet designer shirt and stretch leather pants. Very few men could pull off that kind of flamboyant style and still look classy, but this guy made the fashion statement work. He didn’t button his shirt up, but showed off the top part of his chiseled chest, a trace of golden hair leaving less to the imagination.
I tore my gaze from ogling the newcomer’s smoking-hot body and let it stay on his obscenely beautiful face.
Perfection like these two specimens should be ruled as illegal.
The golden dude winked at me. His smile was flirty, yet his eyes appeared cruel and dismissive. He must have brushed me into the same category of those women who drooled over him and wrote their numbers on his pompous ass.
How had he even gotten past the fences around my house? I hadn’t seen him a second ago.
Annoyed with how he strode across my backyard as if he owned the property, I pointed the sharp tip of my umbrella at him. “You stop there, too, mister. I haven’t invited anyone to a tea party in my yard.”
And I wasn’t the only one who was irritated.
The silver-haired hottie, his thin trench coat billowing in the morning breeze, stalked to the scarlet-shirt dude, stopping a few feet from him to block his advance.
“Baron, what are you doing here?” the silver-haired man demanded in an icy voice.
“You shall address me as Summer King,” Baron sneered. “Certain court courtesy and formality should remain, King Rowan of the Winter Court.”
These two were nuts.
Before I could shoo away the crazies with my umbrella, they talked over each other, trading insults. And I shockingly registered a new detail—they were speaking in the same tongue the monster had used.
The men sounded refined, velvety, and musical. Yet every timbre in their speech carried hostility and cruelty.
Both men and the monster showed up almost in the same time frame, and spoke the same exotic tongue. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
And how could I understand their language when I’d never heard it spoken before?
So, instead of marching to them right away and interrogating them about trespassing in my backyard, I opted to listen to their squabble while putting up a befuddled expression to indicate that I had no idea of what the fuck they were arguing about.
After a few more insults, both males glanced my way.
“Did you enthrall the pretty peasant mortal, Winter King?” Baron demanded.
Chapter 2
Peasant?
Seriously?
This farm girl would