Page 175 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
The realisation almost made him stumble. His steps wavered, and his pace slowed. Cold sweat drenched him.
Amelia wouldn’t survive the activation of the Sacreds. She’d lied.
The signs had been there – the subtle avoidance of his gaze when she claimed the necklace would protect her, the slight twitch of her lips, and the unwavering determination etched into her face.
Now that he had his memories of her, he could interpret her micro-expressions and the stories they revealed.
Amelia was planning to sacrifice herself.
With the taste of her still on his lips and her voice echoing in his mind, another truth struck him. It had been easy to push her away when she was just inches from him – when he could still reach out and pretend it wasn’t final.
Now, with a different reality threatening to take hold… No matter what he’d told her in the car, he didn’t want a world she wasn’t part of. A surge of fury rekindled his strength. He forced his manticore form to push harder, hurtling through the forest. Behind him, the traitors of the Tribunal chased. They had taken their regeneration serum and fuelled themselves on the enthusiasm of fresh recruits, but this was his domain. No one – absolutely no one – could defeat him here.
He moved like a shadow across the terrain, navigating every stone, root, and tangled thicket with instinctive precision. He knew the forest’s secrets – where the trunks grew too close for even the largest transformed bodies to pass, and where gnarled roots coiled above ground. Perfect traps for the careless.
He realised he was close when he leapt over the crumpled body of a soldier in camouflage. Shadows flickered around him as Presiyan’s subordinates emerged, silent and precise. Unlike the cocky, newly transformed immortals, these agents were equipped with silenced rifles and sharp swords designed for swift decapitation.
Mikhail didn’t wait for the gunfire to begin. He spun and fastened his jaws around the neck of a lycanthrope, the bones cracking beneath his bite.
The plan was straightforward: lure the agents into weaker, less well-defended lowland areas where they could be neutralised.
Rage had sharpened his instincts, and the terror that clawed at his chest drove him harder. He wasn’t fighting for revenge any longer. He was fighting against time – racing to reach the Hospital before it was too late.
***
Amelia
The Queen was a vision from another world – a humanid beauty in a black dress with a lace bodice and a mermaid-style skirt, as if she were heading to a ball rather than to unleash Pandora’s box. The Hospital loomed behind her, a powerless and silent witness, while the harpies clung to its walls like vultures biding their time.
Beside her, her loyal dog, Sevar, radiated smug confidence. Dressed in an elegant suit, he watched Amelia’s approach withthe sly grin of a python about to strike.
The closer Amelia drew, the more the details sharpened. Belphegor’s Gloves adorned the Queen’s hands. The Shifting Net rested under her left shoulder. Hecate’s Mirror shimmered, held in her right hand. Although Amelia couldn’t yet see the Manticore’s Ring or the Smoky Quartz, their presence called to her – they were hidden, but not absent. The ring was probably concealed under the glove, and the stone… somewhere beneath the flowing fabric of the Queen’s dress.
Preni. Prenatheia.
Reptilians circled the courtyard, ready to strike. However, in the centre, there was no one else except the three of them.
The necklace seared Amelia’s neck, its heat a constant, stinging reminder of the power it carried. She resisted the urge to clutch it, to reassure herself that she still had control. The pocket watch in her fist remained silent, its stillness almost mocking, yet it reminded her she held more than one trump card.
Prenatheia, she whispered in her mind.
Prenatheia,echoed the wind through her hair.
Prenatheia,gleamed the moon above.
‘Be careful. A name is a weapon.’
“The Oracle of the Sacreds!” the Queen’s voice rang out, her tone dripping with disdain. “To this day, I can’t understand why the gods chose such an unremarkable creature like you for such a crucial task.”
Amelia stopped in front of her and Sevar.
“Well?” the Queen continued with an acidic smirk. “Have you finally realised how futile all your pathetic attempts to outmanoeuvre me have been?”
Amelia studied the Queen’s beautiful yet alien features – features she had never truly examined before. The pointed chin that tapered too sharply, cheekbones that sliced into knife-likeedges, and ears that were reminiscent of a human’s. “At least I don’t pretend to be someone else. I am what I am.”
“And what does that matter? In the end, you’re still here – all alone and ready to bow to me.”
Amelia lifted her chin. “I’m here because of your threat. Not to bow to you. I’ll hand over the Sacreds, and in exchange, you’ll release the Hospital and every creature inside it.”
