Page 38 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Amelia

The cabin held the stillness of a storm preparing to break. Mikhail remained absent, as did Gea’s letter. No news of the reptilians, either. Viktor had gone to the nearest town for clothing and provisions. Alex had secluded herself in her room, and Callan had not reappeared since their encounter.

Amelia stood by the window, waiting for Viktor to return, though her heart yearned for a glimpse of Mikhail instead.

It was foolish, but deep down she clung to the hope that, after reading Gea’s letter, he would realise she bore no blame for what had happened and together they would decide how to handle Callan.

A creature was lying in the clearing. Blinking several times, Amelia focused on the massive grey wolf sprawled on the grass, basking in the sunlight that lent his silvery fur an iridescent glow.

For a moment, the animal’s beauty held her still. Then his lupine eyes opened, and he rose to sit upright. Amber irises locked onto her face, and Amelia fought the instinct to recoil.

The wolf transformed. His muzzle receded into a human skull, and his fur melted away, revealing a muscular male figure. Callan. His clothing must have been made of natural fibres, because by the time the transformation finished, he was dressed – at least from the waist down.

Amelia hesitated, then stepped back from the window and went downstairs. She wore one of Viktor’s borrowed T-shirts and a pair of shorts, both hanging loosely on her frame, as if they might slip off with every step.

In the yard, Callan was splitting logs. Why chop wood in late spring? Did he intend for them to stay there until winter?

He gestured towards the pile. “I can’t abide idleness after spending so long in a coffin.”

Amelia crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on the sun-kissed muscles of his forearms. “How is it possible for you to be both dead and alive?”

“How can an entire city exist on Earth, unseen by anyone?” Callan set the axe down. “Let’s make a deal. You ask a question, I answer. Then it’s my turn.”

She considered his proposal. Perhaps she was venturing into dangerous territory, where she might reveal more than she learned. Even so, she agreed to play by his rules. “Do all manticores and lycanthropes descend from you?”

Callan’s smile sent an inexplicable shiver down her skin. “So the legends say. It wasn’t until many years after I was born that I met others like me. I suppose I’m the first.”

“You have two immortal forms?”

He clicked his tongue. “My turn. What does the tattoo on your back mean?”

“That’s…” Amelia hesitated. The magical mark of the Council was visible only to its members and their allies. “How can you see it?”

“Ah, someone is having trouble following rules.”

“Excuse me?”

Callan’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “We have an agreement. One question for one answer.”

“Fine. It incorporates symbols of the six immortal species represented on the Council of the Hospital for Immortal Creatures. All members bear it – and it’s only visible to them.”

She chose not to waste her next question on the tattoo. As a firstborn, Callan likely perceived more than others. Instead, she asked, “Are you really the ‘Horned God’?”

He moved around her in a slow circle, forcing her to twist her neck to follow him. “Yes, and no.”

She faced him fully.

“Yes, because they worshipped my mummy as the ‘Horned God,’” Callan explained. “And no, because the ‘Horned God’ does not exist. It’s a fabrication perpetuated by those deranged vampires in the Temple. My turn. Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you were a human who became an Oracle, but when I saw you, I realised you also carried witch blood. How is that possible?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“So you were raised by humans?” Callan studied her features, as if searching for proof of her human origins. “Interesting. Something must have concealed the blood.”

“I wasn’t just raised by humans – I was conceived by humans.”

“That doesn’t mean the bloodline didn’t reappear fifty or a hundred generations ago. Anyway, you have witch blood in you. I tasted it.”

Every trace of Amelia letting down her guard disappeared at the reminder. “And what made you decide to drink my blood?”

He smiled. “I’ve craved your blood ever since I first caught your scent in the Temple of the Dead Immortals.”

Her gaze drifted down the firstborn’s body, recalling the mummy he’d been mere weeks ago. It was unnerving to think that a lifeless creature could sense her. “Why drink it? What did my blood do for you?”

“Oracle blood is always stronger.”

She frowned. “Stronger, how?”

“Because of the connection each Oracle has to the Higher Powers,” he said, voice low and measured.

“Your blood is denser, richer . It carries a healing energy most wouldn’t believe, let alone recognise.

But those who’ve existed long enough…we learn how to listen for what others miss.

” His honey-coloured eyes pierced hers. “The blood I received at the Hospital helped me restore my human form, but yours brought back my immortal one as well. It’s my turn to ask a question.

What is the connection between you and Mikhail Korovin? ”

“We…” Her breath caught in her throat. “We were together before the siege on the Hospital. He was in love with me. Now he doesn’t remember me. He believes that whatever we had was because I bewitched him.”

We were. He was. We had .

No past tense had ever stung this much.

“You’re connected to the Sacreds, and he possessed one of them,” Callan said. “It’s no wonder there was an attraction between the two of you.”

His casual tone was like a vise tightening around her heart. “Are you saying that since he no longer has the ring, everything we had has simply…vanished?”

“Yes.”

If his previous words had threatened to break her, his blunt response forced her to defend her love for Mikhail. “Does that mean there will now be an attraction between you and me, since the pocket watch is in your possession?”

His lips curled into a self-satisfied smile.

“The attraction would exist even if the watch weren’t mine.

” Before Amelia could respond, his expression sobered.

“True love doesn’t depend on insignificant external factors.

If Mikhail Korovin truly loved you, the absence of one item could never change his feelings. ”

True. But dying over and over again – being dragged back each time – such trauma could change anyone. The pain struck her anew.

Silence fell between them, interrupted only by the distant singing of mountain birds.

“So, you ’ve heard of the Sacreds, after all,” Callan observed after a moment. She glared at him, and the tones in his eyes darkened. “I do not pursue the artefacts. All I seek is vengeance. I want to destroy the woman you know as the Queen.”

The hatred in his voice sent a shiver down Amelia’s spine.

“No one knows her as well as I do. I’m aware of her strengths and weaknesses.

She has two advantages. The first is the Sacreds, which is why I’ll assist you in taking them from her.

The second is the disrupted regeneration, and I’ll provide a way for you to overcome it.

All I ask in return”—his features sharpened, and his gaze never wavered from hers—”is to see her dead. ”

“Why?”

“She killed Galia. The witch I loved.”

A heavy silence fell between them. The weight of his statement pressed into Amelia’s chest. She searched his face for some sign of hesitation, some flicker of remorse – but found none. Just raw, unyielding grief twisted into vengeance.

The barely contained fury in his voice caused her stomach to tighten. Fear made her even less willing to trust him. Recklessly, she declared, “Mikhail and I could retrieve the Sacreds ourselves and then kill the Queen.”

“You could,” he conceded. “But how will you address the regeneration problem?”

“We’ve identified the exact genetic cause, and there are many beings at the Hospital with extensive medical expertise. It might take time, but we’ll figure out how to solve it.”

Something in her words amused Callan. “Interesting how your medical expertise will suffice against the Queen’s methods ,” he emphasised the last word.

Amelia’s jaw tightened. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean, the Queen is far more than the leader of an insignificant race.”

“How much more?”

“She’s a humanid. A being of extraterrestrial origin, sentenced to live on Earth with earthly powers.”

Amelia regarded him with suspicion. “Can you prove it?”

He waved a hand through the air. “Is the proof not all around you?”

Her nostrils flared as she struggled to process his revelations. The Queen was more than a mere being, but ‘an alien’ was far too much. Humanid . That was the term Callan had used. Gea had also written that the Sacreds were gifted to the earthly species by… humanids.

“Fine,” Amelia said, drawing a steadying breath. “Fine. What exactly does she do to cause these changes?”

Callan shook his head. “I don’t yet understand how she triggers them, but I’ll help you find out.”

“You don’t sound very convincing.”

“There’s no way I can prove that she’s what I claim, but I can show you my intentions towards you are sincere.

” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the watch.

Callan’s Pocket Watch . “I told you I would assist you in gathering the Sacreds. I’ll begin by giving you the first.” He extended his hand, offering her the golden object as a gift.

Her blood surged with anticipation. Her eyes absorbed the power that now seemed to belong to her. Belong . She had no idea when she’d started getting attached to the Sacreds.

Yet, she didn’t reach for the watch. She was too afraid of her own reaction to it.