Page 92 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her train of thought.

“Come in!” she called.

To her surprise, Mikhail entered the room. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, taking in the surroundings.

Amelia sat up, taken aback at his blunt question. “A little.”A lot.

His eyes rested on her. “Regarding tomorrow, none of us wants bloodshed or a scene. Especially since the village is home to humans who mustn’t discover what’s happening.”

She nodded. “I understand. My hope is I can avoid that if I make a deal with the witch.”

“I have enough experience with witches to know things rarely go smoothly with them. That’s why I wanted to ask…”His attention travelled the length of her body. “If it comes to a physical confrontation, what skills do you have?”

She paused, considering the question.

“Can you wield a knife, shoot a gun, or practise some form of martial arts…?” he prompted. “You’ve got witch blood in you, but if your magic isn’t active, I suppose that’s off the table?”

“I… don’t have any of those skills.”

“Nothing?” His brow furrowed, making her feel self-conscious.

Like any modern woman, she believed that self-defence skills were valuable, but she’d never imagined she’d find herself at the centre of a war.

“How is it possible you spent months with me at the Hospital, and I didn’t teach you how to fight?” His tone burned with indignation.

She winced. “You were more interested in sleeping with me.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

His eyes widened, and his lips moved as if to reply, but he seemed to reconsider.

Amelia stood and approached him, stopping inches from his face. “I’ll managesomehow.”

Mikhail’s expression stayed calm, though the gleam in his golden gaze intensified. “As soon as we return from the village, we’re starting training,” he said.

His authoritative tone ignited irritation within her. Yes, learning a few combat techniques would be useful, but the way he made decisions for her…

She suppressed the indignation crawling beneath her skin. “Fine. I’ll train, but I’d prefer it to be with someone else.”

His nostrils flared slightly. “So be it. I’ll speak with Mor or Jasmina.”

With that, he strode out, leaving the door ajar. Amelia craved to slam the door behind him.

37

Constantine

Breaking the bed was impossible! Somehow, the magic had strengthened the entire frame to which the handcuffs were attached.

Constantine searched his memories for any knowledge that might help him unlock the enchanted shackles. A single idea arose: another witch or witcher to break the spell. It was a risky move, since Constantine couldn’t predict how far the Queen’s influence extended and who her allies might be. Still, the alternative – waiting – was too dangerous.

“Diana!” he called out. She stepped into the other room, a small pistol in her hand. Constantine frowned at the weapon. “Are you planning to shoot me and get it over with?”

She examined the handcuffs. “Not yet.”

“Then, I need you to find someone to break the spell – another witch or witcher.”

Diana tilted her head to the side. “The only coven I know of is in Istanbul.”

“We’re in Strandzha. There must be witches nearby. They love hiding in the mountains. The trouble is, asking around might draw attention. You have to do it without arousing suspicion.”