Christian remained where he stood for just a few more moments, stepping inside the small room to take a seat next to Dimitri. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he found himself doing the exact same as Dimitri—watching Rose’s face carefully. He could hear her pulse, and though it was weak, it sounded better than it had when Rose was shot. He pressed his hands together, fingers interlocking as his arms rested in his lap.
He expected Tasha was already dead by now. She had been sentenced to death by lethal injection, the last he heard. She even had the nerve to use her last words to apologize to him. Apologize for what? Tearing Lissa’s life apart with the use of Rose’s death? Tasha forgot that killing Rose wouldn’t just destroy Dimitri. Her death would bring about a sort of domino effect. It’d hurt Janine and Abe the worst; Rose was their daughter. Then, it would be Lissa, Dimitri, and Christian. After, it’d circulate to Eddie, Angeline, Jill, Sydney, and everyone else who considered Rose their friend. Christian peered over at Dimitri. “I’m sorry about everything that happened with my aunt, Dimitri. I’m just glad that Rose is alive. Knowing her, she’ll bounce back at full speed.”
Footsteps drew closer, and Christian peered over his shoulder to find Lissa standing behind him. Moving out of his chair, he allowed Lissa to sit in his place and knelt down next to her. “Glad you could join us,” he murmured. “Rose is sounding better, Lissa. I think she’ll be just fine, though I think Belikov could honestly use a hug from you. And yes, I’m being serious.”
It was insane what this world had come to; an innocent
nephew apologizing for his aunt’s murderous actions,
which had led to a whole revolution in the moroi and
dhampir society. It went unsaid that Dimitri did not
accept the apology – not because he didn’t think it was
heartfelt, despite the rumours, Christian was a boy with
his heart in the right place, but because the apology
was not supposed to come from him. It was supposed
to be whispered through pink lips, flanked by a strigoi-
bitten cheek. Where was the fighter for j u s t i c e he
knew was hidden inside Tasha ? He wished to God she
was still in there somewhere, choking in shame & regret.
Christian was right about ( 1 ) thing, though; Rose would
recover. Every day, blue lips took on a stronger shade of
red – in fact, the cerulean had been defeated only a day
ago, now buried beneath fragile rosebuds. And though he
was supposed to keep his hands to himself, he had found
his fingertips brushing her forehead, her cheek, her chin.
Against his skin, she was cold as ice – but the frost was
thawing. Perhaps that was why flowers bloomed upon her
lips; her whole body was returning to spring after a deadly
winter.
He had let himself become hypnotized by the rise and fall
of her chest, but the spell was broken when Christian spoke
to address another; Vasilisa. Although she was his savior
and the dearest friend of the woman he loved, respect for
her newfound position forced him to his feet, and pulled
him into a sweeping bow, upon which he returned to his
seat. Christian’s comment, however, brought out an atmos-
phere of familiarity. It brought out a grimace as well. “I am
doing fine without a hug,” he protested quietly, his voice
automatically lowered in order not to disturb Rose, “although
I appreciate your company. Both of you.”