Page 183 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
He was calling to the wolf in his heart, to the part of him that was both his greatest weakness and greatest strength. He’d spent years trying to suppress it, yet since driving it awayaltogether, he had felt incomplete – crippled.
The jaws snapped above his head, the lycanthrope toying with his helplessness.
Come on!
The wolf couldn’t have abandoned him! Mrita Hara had to be a fabricated fear… The animal spirit was an integral part of him – it couldn’t be dead while Viktor still lived. It was there, buried deep in his heart, waiting to awaken.
The lycanthrope lunged, sinking its jaws into Viktor’s throat. The pain was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, a searing agony that pierced his very soul, accompanied by a gurgling sound of torment.
When the jaws withdrew, they took a piece of his flesh with them, and fresh blood spilt onto his face.
His vision blurred. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.
A woman’s cry rose above the surrounding chaos, loud and piercing, as if the mountain itself were crying out in anguish.
Then everything fell silent.
Viktor kept his eyes open until the very end. In the final moment before his life ebbed away, something plunged into his heart – sharp and unavoidable – burrowing deep inside, hiding.
He became one.
65
Amelia
It felt like hours, but in reality, it had all happened within seconds.
Viktor appeared to be winning. As he rained punch after punch onto the masked man’s face, Amelia’s concern for him deepened. Such relentless aggression couldn’t fail to push him towardsVaka Hara. She expected he’d transform into the wolf – a creature she’d only heard of from Mikhail. A bloodthirsty beast, fuelled by years of repressed rage.
Then Mikhail, Presiyan, and the others burst through the central gate, and for a heartbeat, Amelia dared to hope that the grim fate she’d been expecting might be averted. She began struggling more furiously against the ropes binding her wrists.
From the rear of the twenty-storey Hospital, hundreds of black wings erupted, obscuring the moon. Their piercing cries were deafening; the sound of their beating wings had Amelia’s stomach churning. This time, there was no necrosis to defeat them. They descended into the courtyard and launched themselves at Mikhail and the others.
Amelia’s gaze snapped back to Viktor. It was harder to see him through the maelstrom of wings and bodies whirling around her and the Queen. A brief lull in the chaos allowed her a glimpse, and her blood ran cold at the sight of his enormous attacker – in full wolf form now – looming over Viktor.
Viktor will be fine.He has to be.
The wolf’s jaws clamped down on his throat.
Amelia screamed, “Viktor!”
The vile creature spat out red tissuetornfrom Viktor’s neck.
“NO!”
The curtain of wings shifted again, blocking her view. Tears streamed down her face in heavy rivulets. She tried to get to her feet, but the ropes binding her ankles wouldn’t allow it. So, she began crawling on her knees.
A rough hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her off her feet. Amelia stumbled forward.
“Enough theatrics!” the Queen snapped, forcing her back onto her knees.
Sevar’s clawed fingers pinned her into place once more, while the ayradjakli approached, arms crossed. He tapped his foot as if tearing out her heart and unleashing war on Earth was just another tedious task on his list.
“I’ll destroy you!” Amelia shouted.
The Queen pursed her lips. “In another life, dear.”
Amelia screamed again. The weight in her chest grew into something black, spreading through her veins, her muscles, her very cells. Viktor was dead. Viktor, the kindest soul in the world. Viktor, who had always been so much more than appearances suggested.
