Never thought my biggest cheerleader would be someone who thought I was evil and unnatural.

I eyed Dimitri, recalling a shadow in my periphery back in the ballroom. "You followed when I jumped in front of Lissa, didn't you? Who were you going for? Me or her?" He studied me for several long seconds. He could have lied. He could have given the easy answer by saying he'd intended to push both of us out of the way-if that was even possible, which I didn't recall. But Dimitri didn't lie. "I don't know, Roza. I don't know.

Naptime,ʺ said Christian, leading her toward the bed. ʺI still need a shower.ʺ ʺSleep first. Shower later.ʺ He pulled back the covers. ʺIʹll sleep with you.ʺ ʺSleep or sleep?ʺ she asked dryly, sliding gratefully into bed. ʺReal sleep. You need it.ʺ He crawled in beside her, spooning against her and resting his face on her shoulder. ʺOf course, afterward, if you want to conduct any official Council business...ʺ ʺI swear, if you say ‘Little Dragomirs,ʹ you can sleep in the hall.

Roza." His voice had that same wonderful lowness, the same accent . . . it was all just colder. "You forgot my first lesson: Don’t hesitate.

You should know better.ʺ ʺIʹve never known better,ʺ he countered. ʺYou should know that.

It was nice to see someone who appreciated her for her character, no matter how disgusted Christian was by the idea of ANYONE dating his aunt. And I actually kind of liked seeing Christian so obviously tormented. It was good for him.

No one had ever called me unnatural before, except for the time I put ketchup on a taco. But seriously, we'd been out of salsa, so what else was I supposed to do?