Ever Night by Gena Showalter

the base of her neck, where her pulse hammered wildly. “Oh, yes. But you should prepare to admit defeat, love. The things I’m going to do to you . . .”

Chapter Eight
    The battle had taken place right outside the palace, so the walk to Vasili’s wing wasn’t a long one. And yet to Rose, every step was torture, every second an eternity. People tried to stop them along the way, but Vasili kept moving, dragging her behind him, directing the intruders to Jasha and Grigori, the two he’d left in charge.
    Finally, they reached his chambers. When she was inside, he released her, faced her, and leaned into her. She tingled, expectant. Only, he didn’t touch her. He flicked the door with his wrist, sending the wood slamming closed. Then he straightened—and still he didn’t touch her. He pivoted on his heel, gaze locked on her until the last possible second, and freaking walked away.
    What the hell?
    There was a wet bar in the corner, she noticed. He poured two glasses of that amber liquid and returned to her, one hand extended. She accepted with a small smile. A fire blazed in the hearth beside her, the heat licking over her wet skin, making her crave this man so much more.
    â€œWhat is this stuff?” she asked just to break the taut silence.
    â€œMedicine.” He drained the contents, and she did the same. Then he claimed both glasses and returned them to the bar.
    Warm and sweet, the medicine slid into her stomach and quickly spread through the rest of her. The little stings and abrasions she’d acquired began to heal. “How are you so advanced in this way?” Her world had nothing that healed instantly. “Yet so antiquated in others?”
    â€œWe were once so highly advanced we managed to destroy our sun and most of the population.” A few steps, and they were facing each other again. “What you see now is centuries of rebuilding.”
    â€œOh. Neat.” Shaking with anticipation, she glanced at the four-poster bed. “Do you want to . . .”
    â€œYes, but we can’t. Not yet. We need to talk.”
    Guttural tone, ominous words. She licked her lips, nervous and achy at the same time. “Okay. What about?”
    â€œOutside, you mentioned other Walkers.” His eyes blazed.
    A stark reminder of what she needed to tell him. “Yes.” Now she gazed down at her feet, cold seeping through the heat. His safety came before her pleasure. “Why do you want to know who they are and when they come?”
    â€œThat’s not important now. We need to—”
    â€œWhy?”
    He sighed. “To protect my people.”
    â€œHow do you protect them from Walkers?”
    Silence.
    She looked up at him through the shield of her lashes. He plowed a hand through his hair. “How?” she insisted.
    â€œI kill them.”
    He’d stated the words so simply, without a hint of remorse; she could only blink at him. “Without knowing their intentions?”
    A nod. Stiff, suddenly angry.
    Clearly, she couldn’t tell him when Nick would come. Not yet. “Why?”
    â€œThey’re dangerous.”
    â€œI’m not. Others aren’t.”
    â€œYou’re different. They aren’t.” Firm, flat.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œRose!” Hard fingers twined around her upper arms and shook her. “That doesn’t matter. And I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to talk about the other Walkers. Let’s discuss the fact that you showed up unannounced. Again. And in the middle of a battle, no less.”
    Having him this close, finally touching her, yet not skin on skin, was complete torment. Her breathing quickened, and goose bumps beaded. Her chest constricted, even as her belly quivered. She loved looking at him. Especially now, as water dripped from his hair and caught in his eyelashes. As color deepened his cheeks, and mud and blood streaked his bare arms and