Page 58 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts

Constantine yanked at the cuffs again. “But it dawned on you while we were kissing?”

“No. More like while we were running through the forest. The kiss gave me the opportunity to cuff you.” She shrugged. “Shame I let Amelia get away – the deal would’ve been better with her. But I suppose the Queen would pay handsomely for you alone.”

Damn her!

“You’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life. Come here and release me!”

Diana glanced at the cuffs. “I’m afraid I can’t. There’s no point in struggling. These are from the Istanbul market, enhanced with magic.”

Constantine growled, eyes locked on her. “In the last few seconds, I went from fully aroused to furious. Unlock these right now, or I’ll break them myself. And for your sake, the bed had better be reinforced with magic as well.”

Her brow furrowed, as if she were contemplating letting him go. Then she squared her shoulders. “I’ll take the risk.”

“Damn it, Diana!”

She moved to the window and peered outside. “I’ll wait forthe commotion from the escape to die down, then contact the Queen.”

“Have you lost your mind? You just shot two of her Chosen and kidnapped me. Not to mention, thanks to your actions, Amelia and—” Constantine stopped himself from mentioning Mikhail. Diana hadn’t seen the manticore in the car, and it was probably for the best. “You really believe the Queen will trade you Hecate’s Mirror for me?”

“That depends on how much she wants you. You said it yourself – ‘a lot’.”

23

Mikhail

Mikhail Korovin – heir to a prominent manticore lineage, son of one of the Tribunal’s founders, creator of the Hospital for Immortal Creatures, and chairman of the Council of Twenty – awoke to excruciating pain coursing through his body. The last time he’d felt so shattered was in the eighteenth century, when he’d regained consciousness in a stranger’s house after Valeria had attempted to murder him.

He clenched his teeth. After all these years, the nymph’s betrayal still burned like a slow, unrelenting fire. The swift death he’d granted her had been a mercy.

Darkness blurred his sight, quickening his pulse with a dread of more poison to come. His lungs grew heavy… Another memory. This time, from Antambazi.

He was aware he was no longer a prisoner in the reptilian realm, but that still didn’t answer the pressing question of where, in the name of Hell, he was now.

Sitting up in bed, he tried to piece together how he’d ended up in this room. He took in his surroundings. The plaster on the walls was crumbling, scattering debris onto a wooden floor worn by time. Pale light seeped through the panes of a peeling window frame, casting a faint glow on the layers of dust coating the sparse furniture: a wooden chest and a chair with a frayed cushion. A grimy, cracked mirror clung to the opposite wall. In the corner above the bed, a massive spider loomed, poised to descend on his head.

Mikhail threw back the blanket, unsurprised by hisnakedness. Before shackling him, the Queen had stripped him of his clothes. Yet he had no memory of how he’d freed himself from the chains, nor how he’d ended up in this room.

Once again, darkness pressed in. Fear. His heart raced at the recollection of the poison coursing through the tubes in his neck, spreading through his veins, killing him in slow agony.

No. Regaining his composure, he stood and walked to the window. A towering mountain stretched before him, bathed in the rays of the midday sun. It wasn’t the Vitosha Mountain. From what he’d glimpsed during his captivity, it wasn’t Antambazi either.

He approached the mirror to examine his reflection. Tangled, light-brown locks framed his bearded jawline. Judging by the length of his hair, he hadn’t been unconscious for long. He traced his gaunt cheeks and hollow cheekbones before focusing on the vile marks on his body. The four scars, immortalising the greatest loss of his life, were still there. A fresh wave of anger surged through him.

He made his way to the wooden chest against the wall. Inside, he found folded clothes, presumably for his use. Scowling at the topmost item – a woman’s coat – he dug deeper until he pulled out a T-shirt and jeans that would fit him. He put them on and, finding no shoes, strode barefoot to the door.

First, he would figure out where he was. Then, he would reclaim the Hospital.

And after that, he intended to visit Antambazi.

***

Viktor

Viktor stormed down the hall towards Mikhail’s room, frustration stiffening his muscles. He was still struggling to accept that he’d ended up in a cabin in the middle of theStrandzha Mountains thanks to Alex and her newfriend. After she’d drugged him, no less. It was a miracle Viktor hadn’t exploded.Later, he promised himself. Right now, his priority was ensuring Mikhail’s well-being. Last time he’d checked, there had been no signs of improvement.

As he climbed the stairs to the second floor, Mikhail was stepping out of his room, looking strong enough to have dressed himself.

“My friend, I’m so glad you’ve regained consciousness!” Viktor enveloped him in a firm embrace. The worry he’d endured over Mikhail’s health had been sheer torment. For a fleeting moment, he’d allowed the dreadful possibility that the manticore might never wake.