Reign Check

“What?”

He pointed up. “That.”

I looked up to see the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling where I’d hung it three hours before.

“Okay, but what does that—?”

Rhys kissed me. It took me so much by surprise that I didn’t realize what had happened until it was almost over. When he pulled away, he held my shoulders and leaned back from me, his brows knitting together, his expression filled with dismay.

“I really, really didn’t want to like that,” he said.

“Rhys—” But before I could say anything else, he kissed me again and pulled me closer. The fact that I wasn’t pushing him away was a little disturbing. In fact, after another moment I realized I was kissing him back.

If I’d known mistletoe was this dangerous, I never would have helped Melinda put any up.

“The last time I saw her, she was over here,” someone said. Then I heard a gasp.

That was when I finally shoved Rhys back from me and peered over his shoulder. Melinda stood in the kitchen staring at us with wide eyes.

Next to her was Michael.

14

“Nikki,” Melinda said after a long moment of silence passed among the four of us, despite the loud music reverberating through the house. “Your friend Michael stopped by. He said he needed to talk to you.”

“Uh, thanks,” I managed.

She cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”

She sounded pleasant and polite, at least on the surface. However, the glare on her face said another thing altogether. It was a mixture of disappointment and major betrayal. If eyeballs were capable of slaying demon princesses, I would already be dead.

Larissa would be happy to know the position of Melinda’s best friend might be up for grabs, after all. My stomach sank. I’d promised her a thousand times I wasn’t interested in Rhys, and here I was kissing him at her party.

That probably didn’t look good, did it? I could only blame the mistletoe for so much.

I couldn’t bear to look at Michael yet. What was he doing here?

“Melinda—,” I began.

She gave me a frozen smile. “I have to get back to my guests. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Without another word, she turned and left.

That was not a conversation I was looking forward to. She was going to kill me.

I really hoped it wouldn’t be literal.

“Princess.” Michael’s voice was strained. “I’m very sorry to come here unannounced, but it’s urgent. Your father sent me.”

“What’s wrong?” I finally forced myself to look at him. His attention was focused on something down by my feet.

“Queen Sephina and the rest of the council have requested a meeting with you.”

“Why?”

“She wishes to learn more about you and wants this to happen face-to-face. Prince Kieran’s report didn’t satisfy her curiosity about you or the prophecy.”

I’d felt as if this was coming. Kieran did mention the potential of my meet and greet with the demon council. However, I’d tried to put it out of my mind, hoping it wouldn’t happen any time soon.

“When?” I asked.

“Immediately.”

My eyebrows went up. “Now?”

“That is generally what immediately means.” Michael’s eyes flicked to Rhys. “Why? Am I interrupting something you feel is more important?”

“I don’t think I appreciate your tone, Shadow,” Rhys said.

“His name is Michael,” I corrected.

“Right. Michael.” Rhys still managed to make it sound like a bland label rather than a name.

Michael glanced up at the evil mistletoe hanging above us before his gaze returned to Rhys. “I apologize if my tone is anything less than respectful, King Rhys.”

Rhys smiled thinly. “Apology accepted.”

Again, there was more unsaid than said in the room at the moment. I could feel it as sharply as if it were raining needles.

“Is the demon council waiting for me in the Shadowlands like Prince Kieran was?” I asked.

“No. They request that you travel to the Underworld castle, where they’ve convened to discuss the prophecy in detail.”

I looked at Rhys, who’d flinched at the mention of the place his mother and father had been murdered.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Rhys said. “As princess of the Shadowlands, you’re entitled to veto any request that doesn’t come from your own kingdom.”

I thought that over. It sounded a bit too simple an answer, actually.

“What happens if I say no?” I asked Michael.

“Is that what you’re saying?”

I shook my head. “I … I just want to keep my options open.”

“Your father agrees with King Rhys,” Michael said. “That you shouldn’t go.”

“Really?” I didn’t know why that surprised me.

“Then there’s no problem,” Rhys said. “Nikki will stay here.”

Michael’s expression darkened. He nodded. “Then I should leave.”

“Wait,” I said as he turned away from us. “No, Michael, don’t go.”

He stopped and looked at me.

“You told me my father doesn’t want me to go, but you didn’t answer my question. What will the council do if I don’t meet with them? Will they be upset?”

Seemed to me that denying a council of demons a request, even though it might be within my right to do so, could come with a price tag. I just wanted to know how expensive it would be.

Michael pressed his lips together as if unsure whether or not to answer me. “Your father despises the council. He doesn’t say this out loud, of course, but it’s obvious to me he does. They’re the ones who create all the laws that govern the dark worlds, after all.”

Yes, the laws that said if he ever tried to contact my mother again, she’d be in danger just because of their romantic history. And I was fairly certain that was only the tip of the demonic iceberg when it came to my father’s issues with the council.

“I’m not too fond of them, either,” I said.

“No, but … I think this hatred has clouded King Desmond’s better judgment. He wishes to deny them this request, but it’s at his own peril … and yours, too. The queen is simply curious about you right now, that’s all. But if she’s refused this meeting …”

“What?” I prompted.

“I’m afraid of how she might react. Queen Sephina, and the Underworld as a whole, has a great deal of power … much more than the Shadowlands ruler. Your father maintains his hold on the barrier and the castle all by himself. He has no support. But the queen, well, she has the support of the entire Underworld and Hell.”

“You think she could nullify Desmond’s reign over the Shadowlands if she wanted to?” Rhys asked, sounding troubled about this possibility.

Michael nodded. “If she was provoked.”

A chill spread through me. “Does my father know this?”

“I’m sure he does. But he refuses to acknowledge it. His hatred blinds him to the real threat here.”

“So we have to do what the queen wants or else?” I said lightly, trying to ignore the dread that had suddenly