Page 54 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

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. Something he 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 was unsurprising 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.

Irritated by his own thoughts, he muttered, “Move faster.”

Amelia tore her attention away from the markings and shot him a sharp look. She resented being bossed about, but he didn’t care. His priority was ensuring their survival.

Further along, the tunnel split into three paths.

After a brief exchange of glances, they chose the leftmost one.

The passage opened into a small, cosy chamber, candlelight flickering across the walls.

A wide leather mat and a woollen blanket lay in the corner, suggesting someone had been sleeping there.

Nearby, a stone shelf held two metal mugs and a glass bottle filled with red liquid.

Amelia pointed to the far side of the room. “There’s something over there.”

Mikhail approached the crevice in the rock. It formed a narrow alcove about the height of an average man. Inside, someone had chiselled compartments into the wall, each holding rectangular tiles.

Amelia stepped into the alcove and pulled one free, running her fingers over the engraving on its surface.

A closer inspection revealed the tile comprised two panels bound like a book.

She opened it, and a small puff of dust rose from the yellowed parchment inside.

The tiles were actually books – gemstones and intricate illustrations adorned them, though written in a language Mikhail couldn’t decipher.

She reached for another tile, but before she could examine it, voices echoed through the tunnel.

“Damn it, someone’s coming,” Mikhail hissed.

They exchanged a glance. Amelia shoved the book into its slot while Mikhail scanned the alcove. The room wouldn’t accommodate them both, considering his size, but they didn’t have much choice, since the voices were growing louder, accompanied by quick footsteps.

He pulled Amelia into the tight space, pressing his spine against the cold stone and wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close. Her back was flush against his chest, and his chin rested lightly on the top of her head.

A woman’s laughter filled the chamber. Moments later, they heard the clinking of metal as someone began filling the mugs.

“I love Mabon!” a woman exclaimed.

“Do you love Mabon, or do you love me, little witch?” a man said.

Balian.

Mikhail felt Amelia tense.

“I love Mabon because it’s the only day of the year I get to see you.” The woman’s voice softened. “And because the autumn equinox has… a particular effect on me.”

“What kind of effect, my treasure?” Balian’s tone dripped with amusement.

Another laugh. “Don’t call me that, Balian. I’m afraid one day you’ll slip up in front of Sonan.”

“Not a chance. And when that day comes, you’ll finally be free of that incompetent fool.”

“Hmm, arrogant as ever. Sonan may not have your magic, but that doesn’t make him useless.”

Balian chuckled. “I’m not here to talk about your husband, Zara. I’m here to give you memories that’ll last you for the next three hundred and sixty-four days we’re apart.”

Fuck. Mikhail tightened his hold on Amelia.

For a heartbeat, he thought she’d stopped breathing, but then she shifted slightly, her hair brushing against his chin.

Her subtle citrus scent filled his senses again.

Thank the stars witches didn’t have heightened olfactory abilities like some other species.

“I missed these two,” Balian murmured, eliciting another giggle from Zara, followed by a stifled moan – enough to conjure unwanted images in Mikhail’s mind. “And this one here…” Balian’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I’ll lick her until you’re dripping all over my mouth.”

Amelia twitched in his hands. Unconsciously, his grip on her waist had tightened, ensuring she wouldn’t slip out of the alcove. Not that those two outside would notice anything at this moment.

“Spread your thighs for me, witch…”

The woman moaned. “Balian…”

“Let me see your beautiful…”

For heaven’s sake . Why couldn’t Balian finally shut up and get on with it? If they carried on like this, they wouldn’t finish until sunset.

“In the name of Mabon!” the woman cried.

There was no response from Balian this time, offering Mikhail a shred of hope that the witcher had got between her legs and was focused on the task at hand.

What followed was a cacophony of gasps and groans – sounds that might have left him unaffected if it weren’t for the woman in his arms. With each inhale, her body nestled further into his chest, drawing his attention to every point of contact between their bodies.

Especially where his hips aligned with the curve of her lower back, his hands fitted snugly around her waist…

He got hard within seconds.

Damn it. He tried to move backwards, but the stone shelves’ jagged edges pressed against his shoulders and dug into his shoulder blades.

He focused on the Hospital, the most grotesque cases he’d seen, the reptilians – anything to scatter his thoughts and redirect his blood flow.

Never in his life had he prayed for a woman to come faster – at the hands of another man. To his immense relief, his pleas were answered and the witch’s scream reverberated through the cave.

“Hmm… taste yourself, treasure…” Balian murmured, followed by the unmistakable sounds of licking and sucking.

Then all hell broke loose as the pair transitioned to the next phase. “Take me… harder…” the witch gasped as though he weren’t already obliging.

Amelia shifted in his arms. Before Mikhail could grasp her intent, she turned her head towards him, ever so slowly. That scent hit him again.

Her breath caught as his hardness grazed her back. She froze briefly, then resumed her movement, tilting her face closer to his. Was she trying to…?

She rose onto her toes. Did she mean to kiss him?

Her lips moved, forming silent words. She was trying to tell him something.

The lovers’ groans continued unabated, but he no longer registered them. Amelia’s heartbeat, her intoxicating scent, and the intimate contact of their bodies occupied his full awareness.

He leaned forward to meet her.

“I need to look,” she whispered in his ear.

What?! He shook his head firmly.

“Hold me steady…”

She turned back towards the scene outside.

His fingers tightened on the fabric of her dress, a silent plea for her to reconsider.

But Amelia slowly lifted a hand, sweeping her hair aside to drape it over her shoulder.

The motion was unintentional, but it caused her backside to brush against him, worsening the already dire situation.

He had no time to dwell on it because she bent forward, determined to sneak a peek.

If they saw her…

If she didn’t stop arching her ass towards him like that…

The urge to press into her, to grind against her until he found relief, was almost overwhelming. He forced himself to focus on keeping her upright. The narrow alcove didn’t give her room to adjust her stance, and without his support, she’d topple forward.

He couldn’t tell if she saw anything or not, but when she retreated, she leaned back into him once more.

The next minutes stretched in agonising silence.

The gods themselves intervened, blessing the witch with an orgasm so loud, it almost burst their eardrums.

“I’ll miss this every day for the coming year…” she panted.

“I should hope so, my dear,” Balian said smoothly. “I’d repeat the performance, but I must join the family to prepare for the competition.”

“I’m sure you’re itching to make those younglings sweat. What do you have planned for them this year? Let me guess… walking through fire? No? Glass shards, perhaps? No…”

Balian chuckled. “A delightful quiz on the history of witchcraft and magic.”

“Oh, how dull! Why don’t you just hand them the questions and come back here with me?”

“With pleasure.”

Their final, passionate kiss filled the air with wet sounds and soft moans.

At last, they left. Mikhail and Amelia stepped out of the alcove. The silver threads in her irises gleamed so brightly, they nearly overwhelmed the blue underneath. For a fleeting moment, he considered apologising for his reaction, for what had transpired in the confined space.