Page 140 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
Her pulse rushed in her ears when she spotted Mikhail. The manticore’s wings unfurled, dwarfing those of the harpies. He knocked one to the ground and bit down on her neck, holdingher thrashing body until the last breath rattled from it.
Only then did the manticore lift his head, his muzzle slick with blood. Two harpies lunged at him – one clinging to his back, the other diving for his face with bird-like, curved claws. He clamped his jaw around the attacker’s wrist and, a moment later, spat out her severed hand, bloodied and twitching, as she shrieked in agony.
Everything inside Amelia boiled. The aggression and bloodlust of the manticore acted as a catalyst for the energy within her, pushing it to the surface. This was not like the attack on the Hospital, where she’d been forced to watch from the sidelines. This time, she had power, and she could help.
Her instincts overwhelmed her. She didn’t wait to be noticed by the enemy but instead lunged first at the nearest harpy, extending her palms. Her fingers seized a black wing. The texture was feathered, very different from the smooth, skin-like surface of the manticore’s wings. The woman screamed as she tried to break free from Amelia’s grasp, twisting her body. But the necrosis was already creeping up her wing, and the movement almost detached it from the spine. Amelia tossed the feathers onto the grass.
Her gaze met the other creature’s. The woman’s eyes were vacant, but as soon as they locked onto the necklace around Amelia’s neck, something stirred within them. A piercing shriek tore from her mouth.
Amelia didn’t hesitate – she grabbed her by the throat. Black veins spread from her fingers, creeping underneath the skin like ink in water. The flesh beneath her grip withered, turning brittle and grey. A bubbling, wet gasp escaped as the decay raced up to the jawline. Blood spilt from the woman’s lips, and her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
In a flash, a swarm of wings rushed at Amelia. Bullets ripped through the first wave, knocking bodies from the air. A few stillbroke through, closing in fast.
Mikhail had used every bit of their training to reveal her physical weakness. It was his condescension, however, that had transformed her insecurity into a fierce drive to prove him wrong. Thanks to him, she’d learned when to dodge and how to neutralise her attacker with a single blow. All it took was three seconds of contact.
Claws tore into her shoulder skin, wings whistled overhead, and her legs lost their grip. Then she was airborne. Reaching back, Amelia shoved her palms into the creature’s face. A heartbeat later, she hit the ground. The fall was only two or three metres, but the impact with the earth sent a jolt of pain down her spine.
When she sprang to her feet, the manticore’s gaze met hers. He was trying to reach her, but the swarm kept pulling him back. She turned away, despite the urge to check if he was hurt, opting instead to unleash her anger.
She struck out blindly, keeping her eyes averted from the women’s claws. She destroyed them with necrosis and didn’t allow them to lift her into the air again. Blood coated her tongue. Pain crept across her body, but the red haze clouding her vision left no room for surrender.
At some point, Mikhail caught up with her, and together they fought back, the necklace burning against her neck.
***
Kathrine
Kathrine was in her element. The harpies posed no difficulty for her. Still, her experience whispered they were a decoy. Every time the Queen was losing, she was doing so for a reason.
At last, the curtain of black wings began to thin. She and Zacharia managed to get closer to the cabin, where Amelia wasdemonstrating surprising skill. At first, Kathrine thought she was wielding a knife, but then she saw that the new Oracle was holding nothing in her hands.
Kathrine snapped the neck of another harpy. Her gaze swept the battlefield… She squinted at a man in human form, fighting the harpies with a sword as if stepping into a dance. His fluid movements and precise strikes were impressive, but that wasn’t what caused Kathrine to freeze. It was his face. Chiselled features, a blend of elegance and strength. Eyes, glowing with the intensity of molten gold.
The man from the portrait.
A powerful sidekick shoved her onto the grass, knocking the air out of her lungs. She squinted to protect her eyes from the claws, but as she did, two others pinned her arms and legs. For a brief moment, everything went black, and she became that helpless young creature, promised to become the Queen’s Chosen, if she could survive a trial: an attack from five reptilians. Yes, five regular reptilians, not Chosen, but they were mature creatures, and she was a girl on the verge of unlocking her secondary form, with a single advantage – no one would mourn her death.
Kathrine should have surrendered then, sparing herself a thousand disappointments. But she’d defeated them and earned all theluxuriesthat came with the Queen’s favour. She’d won the lottery only to realise she’d been betting everything on a game with no reward.
She struggled to push the harpies away, but her muscles had lost their strength. If she survived once more, what awaited her next? A confrontation with the Queen’s brother? A final reckoning with Sevar? Lightness spread through her body as she surrendered.
“Why the hell are you sitting like a fish out of water?!”
The world snapped her back into place. Zacharia had takencare of the harpies. Or, hadtornthem to pieces, given the dismembered bodies all around.
He offered her his hand. Kathrine took a breath and accepted the help. She’d made one of her biggest mistakes on the battlefield. She’d allowed her mind to paralyse her.
She sprang to her feet. “Thank you.”
Zacharia’s ice-blue eyes examined her face. Inside, she wanted to shrink away. What did he think of her reptilian features?
“It looked like you’d surrendered,” he said.
“Just getting some rest.”
Kathrine brushed off the dust, grimacing as the scraped skin on her arms and legs throbbed. For a moment, she regretted discarding her Chosen’s attire. The stolen clothes offered her no protection.
“A little? They were all over you like horseflies.” He pointed at the wounds on her legs.
