Page 81 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Mikhail

Mikhail inhaled her distinctive scent, tinged with the rare fragrance of mirabelle.

Never before had a woman’s aroma captivated him like this.

His fingers weaved through her hair, and his other hand held her waist. If she was bold enough to challenge him, then he’d see it through to the end. This time, he would claim her.

“I can’t imagine a better way to spend the night either,” he whispered in her ear, tilting her head back with his fingers. “Regardless of the consequences.”

He slid his lips down her neck, tracing its curve, enjoying the quick rise and fall of her chest beneath his body.

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” she asked in a low, unsteady voice.

“Because I hate what flows from your fingertips. I hate the magic.”

He spun her around and pressed her against the door. Her blue eyes, clouded with white snowflakes, once again struck him with their beauty.

“And yet, lately, it’s hard to think of anything else except the burning desire to make you mine. Your magic. You.”

Amelia wanted to speak, but he didn’t allow her. He brushed his lips against hers and traced the upper edge, savouring their fullness. He’d often thought about her lips after that night at the restaurant. Or perhaps ever since the first time he’d seen her.

When he penetrated her mouth, the touch of her warm tongue sent a wave of pleasure through his entire body.

His hands found the hem of her blouse, slipping beneath the fabric before pulling it over her head.

One piece after another, he stripped away the layers between them until her underwear joined the rest in a soft heap on the floor.

Mikhail led her to the bed and pulled her into his lap, allowing his hand to wander across the smooth skin of her waist and stomach.

He granted himself a few lingering seconds – to feel her, to remember her.

The necklace hung around her neck, and for the first time, Mikhail didn’t see it as a magical object, but as an ornament that made the sight of her bare breasts even more breathtaking.

“Mikhail… You don’t plan on just staring at me all night, do you?”

He growled and leaned in, capturing the pink bud of her nipple between his lips. Amelia arched beneath him, her fingers tangling in his hair. The moan that slipped from her lips sent a sharp throb through his groin.

His hand slid lower, finding the sensitive bundle between her thighs.

His tongue met hers again, their kiss deep and unhurried – matching the steady rhythm of his fingers. She was hot and wet for him, and it took all his effort to remain seated. He longed to position her on her knees and elbows and claim her like an animal.

When she moaned into his mouth, he lost the little control he had left. His fingers dug into her smooth thighs as a final warning before he threw her onto the bed.

He stood and shed his clothes, never once looking away from her. With each passing moment, desire surged stronger. Whatever Amelia saw in him – she wanted it. That much was clear in her mesmerising eyes.

He knelt at the edge of the bed, all restraint gone, and pulled her legs towards him. Then he lowered his mouth between her thighs, his tongue tracing the full length of her wet heat with aching slowness. The moan that spilt from her lips made his cock throb with anticipation.

After that, he lost control. He licked, bit, kissed, and tormented her. He squeezed her delicate flesh and sucked on her white skin. Amelia responded to his passion with equal desire. He was an animal, and she didn’t mind it.

Her eyes were silver when he plunged into her.

Her wet heat enveloped him, and it took just one thrust before he was fully inside.

Once he started moving within her, the need to leave a mark on her, to claim her as his, became unbearable.

It was wrong – he had nothing to offer her beyond sex – but as he held her naked and wanting in his arms, he made a decision.

However fleeting their time together might be, he would have her for himself.

***

Mikhail

At some point during the night, Mikhail had dozed off, and when the dawn light crept through the window and roused him, Amelia was gone. He frowned at the rumpled sheets on the empty side of the bed.

And then…

He remembered everything.

Amelia, tied to a chair after Zacharia had taken her.

Amelia, screaming in horror as Mikhail transformed before her.

Amelia, interrupting the Council as the new Oracle.

Seeking her out at the Sofia cemetery and begging her to return to him.

Their night together – him worshipping her body with his lips and fingers, just like the night before.

Her later reveal that she’d made a deal with the Queen.

Bestowing his father’s ring upon her to protect her…

Mikhail stepped onto the floor. Damn it. He remembered. Everything!

The longing to dominate her, to protect her. The pulsing desire, the passion, the need.

He remembered, but he didn’t understand himself. He had long since lost the ability to form romantic attachments. He couldn’t love properly. What had made him believe he could change for Amelia? In the end, he’d put their lives in jeopardy.

His eyes widened in surprise as he passed the mirror.

He hadn’t noticed during the night, but Amelia had also left her mark on him.

He had bites and scratches all over his neck.

In all their past memories, he couldn’t recall her being so aggressive.

The young woman the Oracle had sent him to help had been insecure, somewhat na?ve because of her youth, and broken by life.

He looked at himself in the mirror once more. Do you truly not understand why you got involved with her?

Maybe he did. Maybe it had always been obvious. But he couldn’t go back to what they once had – because something within him had changed in Antambazi. His dormant beast had awakened.

And now, it paced behind his ribs, restless, feeding off everything Antambazi had stirred back to life. Chained in darkness, breath shallow between deaths, his thoughts of Amelia – of love – had faded into thoughts of revenge. Of torture. Of blood.

The time spent with Amelia had been real. And beautiful.

But it had also been a lie – a story crafted to mask the hunger coiled within him. Buried beneath duty and discipline, the beast had never perished. It had only slumbered.

Yes, Amelia stirred his heart. Wrath and revenge were what kept him going.

And yet… Was he really going to step onto the battlefield today and pretend she was just a woman he’d slept with? As if that was all she’d ever been to him?

***

Mikhail

He went to the restaurant, where the others had already assembled.

Amelia’s only reaction to him was a slight nod. Then he noticed the turtleneck she had dug up from somewhere to hide the marks from their shared night.

Anger boiled inside him. And when Callan spoke to her, and she responded with a smile, he barely stopped himself from slamming the firstborn against the wall.

But then the door swung open, and someone they hadn’t expected walked in.