King Cake Topper Novels & Stories

I soaked in every syllable, every emotion. Then, the lights dimmed once more, and at the end of the corridor, Dwayne emerged. He pushed a food cart slowly forward, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips as he sang a soft, slow rendition of "Happy Birthday." My heart stuttered. On the cart sat the most stunning cake I had ever seen—a multi-tiered masterpiece covered in delicate, hand-painted sugar flowers that cascaded down the sides like a garden in full bloom. The base was adorned with intricate gold filigree, and at the very top sat a miniature sugar sculpture of a chef’s hat resting beside a tiny, edible whisk. The rich aroma of vanilla, caramelized sugar, and fresh berries filled the

And then there was the cake. It dominated the center of the main table like a jewel on display. Three tiers high, frosted in shades of pale green and ivory, accented with delicate sugar lilies and golden filigree. At the very top, a single number 7 candle stood proudly, glittering faintly. The cake was strawberry flavored, Evalie’s absolute favorite, and I could already smell the faint sweetness wafting through the room. It was… majestic. Fit for a princess. Fit for my princess. Guests had already begun arriving in droves. The room buzzed with the chatter and laughter of children, most of them Evalie’s classmates, their parents trailing behind them.

The stage was adorned with floral arrangements, creating a picturesque backdrop for the birthday celebration. Amidst the cheers and claps, the towering birthday cake caught everyone's attention. It stood tall, adorned with intricate designs of delicate flowers and cascading fondant ribbons. The cake was a masterpiece, symbolizing the grandeur of the occasion and the joyous celebration of Ivy's life. After the introduction, it was time for the cake cutting ceremony. The crowd gathered around as Ivy, with a beaming smile, stood beside the towering cake. Gerard, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't help but marvel at Ivy's radiance.

“Come on, birthday boy deserves cake.” Rhett’s mock outrage melted into suspicion. “What did you do?” “You’ll see,” I sang, dragging Killian inside. The living room had been transformed while we were outside. Someone had dimmed the lights and strung extra fairy lights across the ceiling so the whole room glowed gold. The pack had formed a loose circle, drinks in hand, grinning like idiots. In the center sat the cake. Three tiers of deep chocolate with black fondant and a tiny sugar wolf howling on top. Thirty-two candles flickered around the edges.