Page 118 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species

The tattoo of the Council, like a delicate jewel running down either side of her spine, added a new layer of meaning to this intimacy. The magic connecting the members of the Council had been forged by a powerful witcher centuries ago. Mikhail didn’t understand the details of the spell, but it marked the members only after they’d sworn their devotion before him. Amelia never had, and yet she’d been branded. Which was worth more than a thousand words.

She wasn’t just a woman to satisfy his needs. She was an ally to stand beside him.

He didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve such an extraordinary woman, but he had no doubt she was meant for him – otherwise, the previous Oracle wouldn’t have sent him to her.

There are no coincidences.

He just needed to convince her that she belonged to him. It would be a challenge after he’d shown her his dark side at the end of the previous year, but at least Amelia was letting him get close now. Her body obeyed him, and once he broke down her invisible barriers, he would have her heart as well.

For the second time in his life, Mikhail desired to possesssomeone’s heart. The first time had ended with the death of all his loved ones. What would happen to him now?

He cursed himself for allowing such thoughts to enter his mind. Amelia and the woman he’d been engaged to so many years ago had nothing in common. Valeria would never have closed her eyes while he tasted the most intimate corners of her body with his lips; she would never have entrusted him with her body entirely.

Amelia shuddered in his arms, a sob escaping her lips.

“Amelia,” he whispered.

Her body trembled again, and she moaned with her eyes still closed. “Mikhail…”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“No, Mikhail…”

He gently laid her on her back. When the moonlight illuminated her face, Amelia’s eyes opened – white.

“Amelia?”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. Mikhail pulled her close, holding her tight, and he began whispering soothing words in her ear. He didn’t know if his voice could reach her, but he couldn’t just sit by and watch her suffer – even if this vision was important. Amelia was clearly in pain, trapped in someone else’s torment.

“Mikhail?” This time, her voice was clear in his ear. When their eyes met, hers had returned to their usual colour, but they were filled with an unmistakable emotion – fear.

Mikhail stroked her hair. “What were you dreaming of—”

She moved, rolling him to his back and kissing him with primal ferocity. Her wet cheeks pressed against his, leaving trails of her tears. Her hair fell over his face like a curtain, shutting out everything around them. At that moment, nothing else mattered but her.

Her naked body rested against his with such natural ease, as ifthey were made for each other. He wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling every curve, every twitch of her muscles.

Then, he was inside her. Amelia set the pace with the movements of her hips, fully in control of him – if she wanted to be. He surrendered to her with pleasure.

The thought didn’t scare him – in fact, he liked it.

When they both reached their climax, Amelia collapsed onto his chest. For a few heartbeats, her ragged breaths were the only sound breaking the silence of the night. It was a moment of complete tranquillity, where the weight of her body over his was natural, a necessity.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, still damp with tears. “I won’t let anyone, or anything hurt you, little beast.”

She stopped breathing for a moment. Slowly, she sat up, turning to face him. Her blue eyes pierced through him – the beast within him stirred in discontent. After the last few hours, her expression should have radiated contentment, yet despair filled it.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me, Amelia.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she got up and headed to the bathroom. The door closed behind her.

Mikhail remained still in the bed where he’d slept alone for the past centuries. With Amelia’s warmth gone, he realised he hated his solitude. He missed the feel of her skin under his fingers and being able to run his hands over her hips whenever he pleased.

He slipped on his trousers and stepped into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar. If Amelia returned to the room while he was away, he wanted her to know his absence would be brief.

The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet. Maybe it was time to replace it, he thought, passing the cold walls. Or perhaps he should furnish all these empty rooms, whose closed doors stared back at him. These rooms had long been devoid of life, but now, with Amelia’s presence, she could bring the liveliness that hadalways been missing from this floor.

He stopped under the archway at the beginning of the corridor. Raising his right hand, he traced the wooden frame curving around the arch’s shape. He first felt the tiny gap between its upper edge and the wall. When the cold metal touched his fingers, he grasped and pulled out the ring he’d hidden there.