Page 105 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts

His gaze shifted to a slope nearby. “When Balian vanished in that cloud of crows, I noticed a faint trail of smoke coming from the forest at the foot of that hill. I’d wager that’s where he went – and where the prize is being kept. I want to see if I can retrieve it before the games begin.”

She looked towards the forest. If Balian was there, it was worth a try.

“If I’m not back by sunset, join the games,” Mikhail said over his shoulder as he began walking away.

“No.”

He halted. “What?”

“I’m coming with you.”

He faced her, his jaw tightening. “You wait here.”

“We’re not together anymore, Mikhail. We’re not lovers, we’re not friends, and I don’t even live in your Hospital these days, so you don’t get to order me around.”

His eyes locked on hers with an inscrutable emotion. Or was there simply no emotion at all? “I’m not ordering you around, Amelia. I’m trying to get us out of here as quickly as possible without putting you at risk.”

“You know,” she said with a bitter smile, “you were much more pleasant when you wereenchanted.”

His expression remained frosty. “Because it was easier foryou to manipulate me?”

She had sworn not to let the past interfere with their mission, but she couldn’t stop herself now. “Is that what you think? That everything between us was a manipulation?”

Mikhail raised an eyebrow. “And what else could it have been? I don’t remember what we had, but that doesn’t mean I’m clueless about these kinds of dynamics.”

Her jaw clenched. “And what dynamics would that be, exactly?”

“The kind where one person is deluded…” He paused, as though reconsidering his words. “Tell you what – let’s not have this conversation. Now’s not the time for it.”

Amelia wasn’t about to be deterred. She stepped into his path. “Perhaps for you, our relationship was built on delusion. But for me, it was about our shared passion for medicine, my admiration for everything you’ve accomplished and overcome, the thrilling conversations we could have for hours – and, most importantly, the undeniable attraction between us.”

His eyes darkened.

She pivoted and started walking towards the forest. It wasn’t long before Mikhail caught up with her. Neither of them spoke another word.

But then again, everything had already been said.

***

Mikhail

Mikhail sensed her anger. Understood her resentment. Felt her power – a power she either didn’t know existed or deliberately ignored.

Amelia believed her witch blood was dormant, but the scent of magic lingered in the surrounding air, prickling his senses with unease whenever she was near. He wasn’t certain it was ascent in the traditional sense, but if he had to describe it, her magic smelt of incense and blood – of danger.

Even now, as they stood just metres from the forest where he’d spotted the strange smoke when Balian disappeared, her magic was tangible. It was woven with subtle hints of citrus and something else.Somethinghe almost recognised but couldn’t quite place.

As they entered the forest, a silence hung over the frozen trees, broken only by muffled conversations drifting from the lake behind them. The persistent hum of magic continued to prick his senses. He wasn’t sure if it came from the heavy witch presence in the area or Amelia herself. If she were truly connected to the necklace, her magic might come alive in its vicinity. That could either be a blessing, increasing their chances of escape, or a curse, bringing trouble in its wake.

Amelia unsettled him enough as it was, their shared past casting a long shadow. Combined with her burgeoning magic? Even his animal spirit bristled cautiously.

They moved deeper between the trunks, the magic crackling faintly around them like static. Soon, the forest thinned, revealing the mouth of a cave, hidden from view at the lake’s level.

Mikhail signalled for Amelia to follow him. When they were a few metres from the entrance, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “If we run into anyone, we’ll say we were out for a walk.”

Inside the cave, a wide tunnel stretched ahead, its floor illuminated by a row of candles that cast flickering shadows across the inscriptions on the walls. Mikhail tried to decipher the markings but recognised none of the symbols. Witches loved scrawling in ancient scripts almost as much as they loved their stones.

Amelia examined the intricate carvings; her interest wasunsurprising given the bloodline she carried. Mikhail’s gaze lingered on her profile. She had a classic, icy beauty that might have drawn him in different circumstances, in a different time.