Page 117 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
“Amelia!” Her name cracked like a command. She ignored it, leaving the room with her fingers still clutching the serpents at her neck.
Her blood boiled with a vague, unexplainable fury. She stormed through the common area without glancing at the people lingering there. Just as she reached the door, a hand grasped her elbow.
“I gather the training didn’t go well,” Callan said, letting herpass through the door first before following.
She shielded herself from the glaring sunlight. “There’s a reason they say not to stay friends with your exes. They have a knack for infuriating you, even without doing much of anything.”
“Is that what they advise these days?” Callan rubbed his forehead in a gesture she found amusing, easing the tightness in her muscles ever so slightly. “You changed your mind about our walk last night.”
Amelia remained silent, still consumed by an inexplicable anger over what had happened. Mikhail had ordered her to remove the necklace as if he had any right to dictate anything to her.
“I understand,” Callan said, “but it’s not his fault he doesn’t remember you.”
She met his eyes, and for the first time, she truly saw him – not the mummified figure they’d stolen from the Temple of the Dead Immortals, nor the man she’d once feared because of a vision.
“You’re fitting right in with the twenty-first century.” She nodded at his outfit – a black T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a popular heavy metal band, paired with jeans and trainers.
Callan glanced down at himself. “A gift from Mor. Who would have guessed that this charming man, in his everyday life, wears a terrifying mask and scares both petty and hardened criminals alike?”
Amelia smirked. “I’m still reeling from Presiyan. I half-expected him to be hiding a Quasimodo under that mask, but he turned out to be Leonardo DiCaprio.”
“Quasi who?” Callan narrowed his eyes. “And Leo what?”
Amelia laughed, letting her gaze drift over his features. A year ago, life had thrust her into the immortal world armed with the knowledge she had from the human one. At least she’dhad some understanding, a framework for modern life. Callan, on the other hand, had emerged from a sarcophagus into an entirely new world.
“What’s it like to wake up so many years later?” she asked.
He crossed his arms, the sinewy muscles in his forearms prominent. “Refreshing,” he replied after a pause. “A chance to rectify the past.”
Amelia’s fingers toyed with the necklace resting against her neck. Warmth flowed through her fingertips as they brushed the chain. She flinched but didn’t pull her hand away; she didn’t want Callan to notice anything unusual. Whatever this was, she wasn’t ready to share it.
Why was she so afraid to trust him?
The answer made her heart clench. Because she’d trusted another man once and was still piecing herself back together. The signs had been there from the start. Mikhail had kidnapped her, locked her up, and frightened her. Yet in those rare moments when he had been less beast and more lover, everything else had faded into the background. Shehad knownfrom the beginning that life with a man like Mikhail wouldn’t be easy. The physical scars he bore were only a glimpse of the ones buried in his mind and heart. But she had been willing to embrace all of it for the chance to have him.
And still, it hadn’t been enough.
Callan… he was dangerous too, but in a different way. More contained. A threat concealed beneath charm and control. She wouldn’t risk another fracture in her heart – not even for the sake of friendship.
Later, under the dappled shade of the tree, she flexed her fingers, examining them with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Last night, she’d tried to channel her power through the bed frame, testing if she could cause the wood to decay, but nothing had happened. Yet she couldn’t shake thesensation of power flowing through her veins. The power of the necklace – a force she’d sensed from afar.
And she was willing to bet its hold over her wouldn’t end, even if she took it off.
***
Amelia
When Amelia emerged from the forest, she found Zacharia rummaging through the boot of his black Lexus. She approached him, pushing away the memories of when Mikhail’s heart had stopped in her hands on that same vehicle’s back seat.
“I’m glad you’re back with us,” she said.
He pulled out a duffel bag and shut the boot. His gaze flickered to the necklace at her throat before settling on her face. “Mikhail doesn’t remember you.”
His tone carried no warmth, but his eyes… Was that pity? Not from Zacharia, surely not.
“It was because of the ring.” She shrugged, unwilling to rehash the story yet again.
The hybrid furrowed his brow. “And you? Was it the same with you?”
