Page 132 of The Devil's Trials

There’s a small stretch of silence. “You’re surethat’ssafe for her?”

“I wouldn’t allow it if doing so would put her in danger. The party is for the inner circle, the people who support my reign and want to celebrate it. It’ll mostly be friends and of course my council. At least, most of it.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m still waiting for—”

“I know,” she cuts in.

“Are you considering it?” I’m taking it as a positive sign that she hasn’t outright refused the position on my council yet.

“Considering…overthinking. Yep. Sure am.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

She laughs, but it doesn’t hold an ounce of humor. “Not with you.”

“Ouch. I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

I think I hear a smile in her voice when she murmurs, “You should go. You have a busy day ahead.”

“Right. Well, I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Okay—”

“Xander?”

“Harper,” I level.

Silence fills the line again. Finally, she says, “Congratulations.”

My chest swells with something I can’t immediately decipher, and the call disconnects.

When it’s time to leave for the summit, Blake walks out to the car at my side. As much as I wish it was Camille next to me—firstly, Harper was right about it not being safe for her to be there, and secondly, I can picture the look that would fill Camille’s face if I’d tried to make her—I’m glad Blake is here. I may not feel as anxious as I once was, but the immense weight of the responsibility I’ve signed on for is staring me right in the face.

We drive for a little more than an hour. Blake must sense that I’m not in the mood or headspace to keep a conversation, because he doesn’t attempt it. Instead, we listen to music, and Blake sings along to most of the songs as he keeps his focus on the road.

As we pull into a long, winding driveway, I take a slow, deep breath, and take in the scenery out my window. Pine trees stand tall and broad in the clear, dusk sky, the air refreshingly cool. This building we drive up to appears to be an old resort property, though based on the sparsely filled parking lot, it’s safe to say it no longer operates for the public.

The royal guard has control of where the summit is held but not the coronation ball, as Blake gleefully informed me when sharing his plans for the event tonight. They must own this property as they do with others scattered around North America so they have a designated place to be during their eternally ill-timed visits.

My council meets us inside the front doors, their expressions serious but hopeful. I soak it in, using their support to feed my power, and hold my head higher as I straighten my posture.

“Are you ready?” Jude asks, keeping her gaze on me as Francesca, Greer, and Roman draw closer. We stand in a modern but empty lobby area, and the buzz of too many voices to count comes from the other side of a set of double doors across the lobby.

It kicks my alertness into high gear, and I answer, “Yes,” without a second of hesitation.

Blake claps me on the back, standing at my side and grinning. “Of course he’s ready.”

Blake moves forward and opens the door as Jude steps aside for me to walk ahead.

I lift my chin and square my shoulders as I step through the doorway. A deafening hush falls over the massive room as I move toward the front, where a raised platform with a throne-like chair awaits.

Letting my eyes roam the faces all locked on me, I make a point to meet the gazes of as many demons as I can on my way up. Men and women of differing ages fill the room; there must be at least two hundred demons here. Some appear pleased or excited, while others are more reserved and even openly suspicious

My council flanks me, and when I step onto the platform, they stand on either side of my throne. My gaze sweeps across the room, landing on mostly unfamiliar faces—until I reach the front row and my eyes connect with one of my mother’sfriends.

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