Page 18 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Kathrine

“What do you do when you witness wrongdoing?”

“Close my eyes. Stay quiet. Move on as if nothing happened.”

“And then you fall asleep?”

“Then you wake up.”

“I meant, does your conscience let you sleep?”

“I meant, the next morning, I’m alive to wake up.”

Years had passed since that conversation.

Kathrine stared at her fiancé’s back, replaying his words in her mind while trailing after him and the rest of the dinner party.

The murky palace corridors matched the sombre tones of his tailored black suit and dark hair.

In Antambazi, at the Queen’s palace, within her sphere of influence, Sevar was a master at surviving.

If not for him, Kathrine wouldn’t have lived to this day.

“Don’t mourn the fate of others. Mind your own.”

She should have been dead. Ever since the last Oracle fled, her life should have ended. Why did the Queen keep her so close? Was it possible she’d overlooked Kathrine’s role in helping the Oracle escape? Or that she’d slipped fragments of C.’s notes to the enemy?

Her gaze shifted from Sevar to the figures moving ahead of him. The Queen led Petrov and his son through the palace corridors, but the usually chatty general was subdued after the incident at dinner.

No, not an incident, Kathrine. A murder.

As if reading her thoughts, Sevar glanced back at her, his expression a silent warning: ‘Do you want to wake up tomorrow morning?’

At that moment, Kathrine hated him.

Yet, as they climbed into the car and navigated Antambazi’s steep roads, she reminded herself why the Queen’s actions were justified. They all worked towards the liberation of their kind.

“Is it really necessary to weaken the other species?”

“We lack their regeneration. If we don’t, we’ll remain inferior to them.”

“They won’t be very welcoming after that…”

“We don’t need them welcoming. We need them desperate.”

For the first time in her life, Kathrine was about to enter the laboratory.

Access was reserved for the Queen and those dedicated to scientific work.

A mixture of apprehension and anticipation churned inside her when she followed the others into the tunnel.

The laboratory was as she’d imagined – a large aluminium door with a control panel, sterile surroundings, equipment, and figures in white lab coats.

She recognised some of the lab workers – men and women she hadn’t seen in years. No one truly understood how the Queen decided the training paths of her Chosen. That choice determined whether they worked in the lab, became a counsellor, joined the guards, or transported earthly goods.

“It doesn’t seem right.”

“Is it right for the reptilians to vanish? Antambazi’s resources are limited.”

Kathrine couldn’t help a twinge of excitement at the prospect of finally understanding the Queen’s plans.

Until now, all she knew was that the Queen was working on something to aid their race’s adaptation to earthly conditions.

Perhaps a means of enhancing their regeneration?

So they wouldn’t need to cripple the abilities of other species, but instead could match their resilience?

Petrov and his son edged forward with pale faces. Gone were the General’s swagger, as well as Vesel’s smug expression. Only an hour ago, he’d believed his father’s wealth and influence could tame even the devil. The devil, perhaps. But not the Queen.

Despite the pain Kathrine felt over the Chosen’s murder, she had to admit the Queen had played the situation with mastery.

“One day, you’ll see that it was all worth it, my love.”

But what would she stumble upon in the laboratory? Kathrine clung to the hope that it would bring salvation for the reptilians – and her. Confirmation that better days lay ahead, with less violence.

The Queen stopped before a heavy metal door and turned to Petrov. “You doubt the ability of reptilians to subjugate the other species?”

Petrov’s face was grave. “It’s hard not to doubt when your race is physically weaker and has shorter lives, even under the new conditions for other species.”

“I see…” The Queen tapped the door’s control panel.

Kathrine couldn’t spot the unlocking mechanism, but the door slid open, revealing a vast room. The Queen walked in first, followed by the humans. Something brushed Kathrine’s arm, and she realised with surprise it was Sevar’s fingers.

“One day, you’ll see that it was all worth it, my love.”

She nodded, as if to let him know she understood. And she did – because she’d heard him say the same words years before.

Together, they entered a hall filled with an unnatural, oppressive silence, interrupted only by the amplified sound of a heartbeat on a medical monitor.

A chill crept down Kathrine’s spine. Her gaze locked onto the single bed in the room. On it lay…

By the heavens!

“What the hell is that?!” the General exclaimed.

The Queen pivoted, holding up a finger to her lips. “Shhh… You don’t want to wake her.”

Silence fell as everyone stared at the figure on the bed. It appeared female, judging by the prominent curves beneath the hospital gown. Kathrine sought Sevar’s confirmation, but he was just as stunned. The younger Petrov, however, studied the strange being with open enthusiasm.

“I present to you the new immortal species – a harpy! Stronger, faster, and more ruthless than any other species.” The Queen approached the bed, stroking the creature’s forehead. “But there’s a slight problem. She regenerates like a human.”

***

Amelia

Back in her room, Amelia couldn’t shake the image of the sketches in the Queen’s notebook. Just thinking about them made her skin crawl. They felt vile – unclean, corrupt, steeped in something she didn’t want to touch.

The warning in Gea’s letter echoed in her mind: ‘ Dark energy. I cannot see its outlines, but I feel its essence. There is something wrong with it, even perverse.’

A chill gripped her, as if she’d stepped into an icy, invisible current. Something vast was unfolding. She could feel it in her bones.

She sat on the bed and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths. Her heart pounded, fuelled by the fear that somehow, those sketches might be connected to Mikhail.

As she pictured the drawings once more, a buzzing filled her ears – a mechanical hum. The edges of the room dissolved into hazy black lines, merging into an impenetrable darkness.

Amelia rose, though she couldn’t see anything around her. This wasn’t a vision – not the kind she was used to, which was always accompanied by a white mist. Before her now, shadows danced. And that strange hum…

Her breath escaped in a sharp rush, her chest aflame. Something tight constricted her ribs, her skin burning beneath it. She tried to claw at her chest, desperate to free herself. But her hands were bound behind her back, immobilised.

“No!” she whimpered.

She’d been mistaken – this was a vision, but seen through the eyes of someone whose sight had been blocked. Before she could escape the pull of the foreign perception, she found herself thrust into another scene.

Her knees sank into the mattress. Groping for purchase on the covers, she struggled to maintain balance in the vulnerable position he’d forced her into.

Her dress was still intact, giving her the illusion of safety, but it wouldn’t last. Soon, he would grab the hem and lift it.

She hoped he wouldn’t tear it away – and leave her with nothing to wear.

Who is this woman? Amelia wondered.

She shared the frantic thudding of the other’s heart as if it were her own. Her breath heaved, as though the oppressive presence of the man in the room stole her air.

She flinched when he grabbed the fabric of her dress near her shoulder. There was a brief tug, the feeling of cloth digging into her skin, followed by the sound of tearing.

Her only garment lay ruined beneath her.

Amelia caught the woman’s thoughts: Why had she thought he would be gentle?

From the moment she’d met his eyes, she’d known his animalistic instincts ruled him.

She didn’t fear him in the conventional sense – she would tolerate his touch – but couldn’t lie to herself that it would bring her any pleasure.

She was prepared to endure everything, to withstand the touches that made her heart shrink and her body ache.

But when a low growl came from behind her, her resolve wavered.

Gritting her teeth, she focused on the intricate carvings on the bed frame – a tree of life, its branches stretching outward, curling into a semicircle at the top.

She decided to count the leaves on the branches to distract herself from the dreadful scenarios her mind painted of what was to come.

A faint touch brushed down her spine, chilling her to the bone. She had deceived herself into believing she wasn’t afraid.

Fear’s icy grip clawed at every fibre of her being, pinning her there. It seemed her submissive posture wasn’t enough for the beast behind her.

She couldn’t let her legs buckle if she wanted to achieve her goal. Yet her knees slid forward on instinct, and her body curled in on itself, denying him access to her most vulnerable parts.

He growled again, and his hand slammed against the frame, causing the bed to shake. God, it wasn’t a hand . It was a huge, clawed paw, with sharp, exposed black nails.

He didn’t care if he hurt her. A few tears spilt, sliding down her cheeks. Amelia felt their path across her own cheeks.

His shadow loomed over half the wall above the bed. It was only a silhouette, but enough to show how massive he was, compared to her. Compared to any man she had ever known.

Not a man. An animal.

The woman’s panic sent Amelia’s pulse racing. Suddenly, something brushed against her neck, pressing against her spine. He sniffed her, then reached out to position her the way he wanted.

Will I faint from the pain? the woman wondered. Will I bleed?

Amelia recoiled in disgust. This was wrong. She was compelled to scream at the woman to fight back, to resist the beast, to not let him claim her body. No goal was worth this kind of sacrifice.

But here, Amelia had no power to change anything. She could only stand by, bracing herself to share the other’s pain, even across the divide of time and space, through the barrier between vision and reality.

Something heavy landed on her neck, pressing her forward and burying her face in the pillow. She turned her head with effort, just enough to draw a breath as he pushed down on her. He’d apparently found her previous position unsatisfactory.

The woman had kept her eyes shut for a long time, but now, for a fleeting second, her lids parted. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Amelia froze in the vision, staring at the image of the woman whose memories she was sharing.

Blonde hair spread across the pillow and shoulders. Between the strands, the black claws of a beastly paw pinned her down. The pale face, though streaked with terror, displayed a resolute expression. The dark blue irises… Amelia knew those better than anything else in the world.

Her own eyes. Her own face. Her own body.

Heart leaping out of rhythm, she tried to move, but nothing happened. This wasn’t someone else’s torment. It was hers. She was the one being restrained. She was the one desperately breathing through pain, through fear. And suddenly –

Could that be Mikhail behind her? Was she interpreting the vision wrong?

For a while, she struggled to glimpse his reflection in the mirror, but her eyes wouldn’t obey.

Thoughts that weren’t hers intruded: She would watch as he tore her apart. Until she passed out from the pain. Because her purpose was greater than all of this.

Her gaze followed the furry form towering above her.

A manticore.

Her attacker was a manticore, just like Mikhail.

Was it Mikhail?

The memory of him sparked a new thought in her mind – an idea her other self in the vision had desperately tried to suppress but could no longer avoid. It explained why she was in this situation. Her prince, with golden eyes and a heart carved from contradictions, no longer existed.

The realisation broke her. She sobbed – loudly, unrestrained. Amelia, trapped beneath the beast, wept. And Amelia, the one inside the Queen’s palace, wept too.

It had all come to this because of the cursed ring. The ring the creature behind her desired above all else. And because Amelia couldn’t give it to him, he was determined to punish her in every imaginable method.

But why did she keep allowing it to happen? That final thought belonged to Amelia, watching through the Oracle’s eyes.

Then, she turned her head the other way and saw his face. Black hair, a light brown gaze, a familiar countenance…

It wasn’t Mikhail.

It was the man from the portrait.