Page 32 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
When her silence lingered, Constantine understood she didn’t feel the need to respond, but that didn’t sit well with him. “Moreover, you were willing to risk your life to access your secondary form – something you know is incredibly dangerous for that first transformation. That, combined with the aforementioned, makes me think you’re preparing for a war. Is there something you’re not telling me,dove?”
She frowned at the nickname, which made him smile. Diana stuffed her towel in her backpack and rose to her full height. When she walked up to him, her unique scent attacked his nostrils and sent a pleasant wave down his spine. At first, Constantine had seen her as an ally against the reptilians, but if she kept having that effect on him, she might turn into a complication. A complication he would fuck, if she offered it.
However, her body language revealed no signs of such desires on her side. Especially now, while she stood before him, chin raised and eyes burning with confidence. “You’ll find out soon enough that I’m nodove,” she said.
“And how am I finding that out?”
Diana crossed her arms. “All right. If you want to know, I’ll tell you. It’s not like you could hinder my participation at this point. I’m taking part in the centennial edition of the Al-Hatibtournament. Got accepted over many other candidates.Would a dovehave made it this far?”
She might as well have splashed cold water on his face. Constantine had heard about the tournament. It was a ruthless fight among various immortals. This year’s edition was particularly enticing, offering the Mirror of Hecate as a prize – a rare artefact that had not surfaced in fifty years. It was rumoured that it could reflect any magic or curse aimed at its holder and break any spells, making it a coveted item among competitors.
“Diana, that fight is to the death. It’s tantamount to suicide.”
“It is, without a secondary form. Now that I have one, I have an equal chance of victory with the rest of the players.”
Constantine’s jaw tensed. He’d let her drink thatthingand unlock her secondary form – he had even argued with his friends about it. And for what? So she could kill herself? “Most participants in these tournaments are degenerates and monsters. Beings whose lives are truly worthless, so they fear nothing about losing them. They are usually mercenaries for other people – those in pristine clothes who never leave the comfort of the spectator stands.”
“I’m well aware, okay?” Diana turned her back on him and slung a small sports bag over her shoulder.
He mulled over her story. Something about it didn’t quite add up. “You’re sacrificing yourself, all for a mirror. Why?”
That made her face him once again. “I’m going to win, not lose, Constantine.”
“Overconfidence has crushed many brave hearts, Diana.”
“I’m not overconfident, justconfidentin my abilities.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And you think I care whether you believe me?”
A faint smile curled his lips. How he craved to teach Diana proper manners. “I don’t believe you’re ready to die for a mirror.So I wonder – what are you willing to die for, Diana? Or for whom?”
Perhaps she had a loved one for whom she wanted the mirror?
A darkness passed through Diana’s eyes. “There are no secrets. It’s called ‘personal space.’” She brushed past him to leave through the door.
Constantine refrained from following her. Though he possessed methods to compel her submission, he hesitated. In Mada’s underground chamber, he had briefly glimpsed Diana’s soul. That fleeting insight had revealed a soul as pure as her heart’s bravery. Such purity convinced him that her participation in the immortal tournament wasn’t for the mere acquisition of a priceless artefact. She was fighting for someone else’s sake.
Too bad her fate seemed sealed. In a contest overrun by fiends, courage and honour were the most useless weapons.
11
“In the coarse realms of my consciousness, she is the gold from which I cast my vicious longings, breathe life into, and then burn and melt, until I drown her in voluptuous torment.
In the refined realms of my consciousness, she is a rare blossom I water with gentle caresses and love until she fully blooms and reveals to me her most intimate secrets.
In my arms she is a dextrous lover, in my eyes – a beautiful sight, in my heart – the very pulse of my blood flow. And in reality – she is but a memory.”
Amelia closed C.’s journal, once again overwhelmed by the sensations the text stirred within her. His words were like magic, coming alive like a film before her eyes. C. adeptly pulled the strings of her imagination, and the emotions described in his memoirs transferred into her soul, hurling her through a spectrum of experiences she could barely distinguish from her own.
Viktor had brought her the journal, hoping that her holding it would provoke a vision about the reptilians. But for now, all she had succeeded was to become a bit obsessed with the text. Still, not enough to keep her thoughts away from Mikhail.
She surveyed her room, uncertain whether she would return after meeting him. A narrow bed with a firm mattress stood against one wall, flanked by a wardrobe filled with clothes selected by the housekeeper, Stella. Across from the bed was a wooden desk and chair, and a small window overlooking the mountain. An internal door led to a cosy bathroom. This roombore no resemblance to the luxurious chamber where Mikhail had previously confined her, nor did it echo the sombre Gothic atmosphere of the top floor where they had briefly resided together – before she’d become his captive once again.
The memory furrowed her brow.
Yet here she was, in her new room on the fourteenth floor, unable to deceive herself any longer – Mikhail’s survival eased her breaths. But that relief came with a certain amount of trepidation. Stella, the head housekeeper, had mentioned he was awake and recuperating. Thus, Amelia had expected him to ask for her, but five days had passed without a single message from him.
