22 #2
“The problem is, I don’t believe that.” Mikhail smirked, his confidence unshaken.
“You’ve just become immortal. The first hundred years are like a second adolescence – unstable, full of discoveries, and desires awakening for the first time.
Soon, you’ll start feeling those needs, and when you do, I’ll be the one who can satisfy them. ”
His audacity made her lift her chin. Did he really think he could decide for her? Including who would satisfy her so-called “needs”?
Fine . He may have had centuries of experience, but Amelia had been through hell these past three years and had no intention of bowing to a manticore, no matter how undeniably attractive he was.
“And here I was beginning to think I’d die of tediousness talking about the wind in the forest…” Amelia glanced nonchalantly at her hands as if this entire conversation bored her.
When she snuck a peek at him, Mikhail’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
“I’m glad to see your sense of humour is still intact.
I was starting to worry you had buried it somewhere deep beneath the concrete facade you’ve built since becoming the Oracle.
And I’m also glad you’re enjoying the change in topic because we have a lot more to discuss. ”
Amelia tilted her head. “Oh? Like what?”
“I want to prepare you for what’s coming,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “As I mentioned, the transformation is overwhelming. It awakens desires you might not expect.”
She narrowed her eyes, pretending to be confused. “What kind of desires?”
“Sexual ones,” he replied bluntly, his eyes darkening at her reaction. “But don’t worry, little beast, I’ll always be there for you.”
The solid trunk of the tree pressed into Amelia’s back, grounding her. This time, being cornered didn’t weaken her knees – it made her determined.
She shook her head. “I haven’t felt anything like that yet. Maybe it won’t happen to me.”
“Oh, it’ll happen.” Mikhail leaned in closer. “In fact, I think it’s already happening…”
She braced herself against the tree, trying to maintain a semblance of distance between them. “Actually… I lied… I do feel it.”
Mikhail’s gaze dropped to her lips, his voice a hushed murmur. “Do you?”
“Yes…”
He leaned in more, his lips almost brushing hers. Just before they made contact, Amelia parted her lips slightly, her breath warm against his. “I just don’t understand why you think you’ll be the one to satisfy my desires , when you’ve already tried once and failed.”
His eyes shifted through a spectrum of emotions before settling on an intense, fiery yellow. For the first time since she had known him, Amelia felt a thrill of satisfaction at having provoked him.
“You lie well,” he said with a hint of a smile.
Amelia knew she was treading dangerous ground, but the power at this moment was too intoxicating to resist. She smirked, considering her next move, savouring the chance to keep pushing his buttons.
Before she could say another word, Mikhail closed the distance between them.
Their lips hovered just inches apart, and the fluttering in her stomach became almost unbearable.
The first touch of his lips sent a spark through her, igniting a warmth that spread quickly through her body.
She willed herself to stay still, to remain as unyielding as the tree she leaned against, but her resolve was slipping.
The kiss was light, teasing, an invitation she didn’t reciprocate but didn’t resist, either. With every passing second, it became harder to remain passive, harder to ignore the attraction between them. Instead, she found herself thinking about where she most wanted to feel his hands.
Mikhail abruptly released her, the corners of his full lips curling into a teasing smile. “I suppose you didn’t like that kiss.”
Amelia took a deep, steadying breath, trying to ignore her quickening pulse. “It was awful.”
“Then let me try again.” This time, his lips found hers with certainty, and she melted into the kiss, her resolve crumbling as he deepened it. Heat flared through her body, pooling low in her belly, making it agonising to keep her hands at her sides instead of tangling them in his hair.
When Mikhail pulled back again, his eyes had darkened, sparking with golden flames that could have scorched her from the inside out. His gaze roamed over her flushed face, lingering on her parted lips. “Better?”
Amelia licked her lips, trying to suppress the shudder running through her. “A little better…” she managed.
Mikhail’s body pressed firmly against hers, pinning her to the tree trunk. She tilted her head up, welcoming his next kiss. One of his hands encircled her waist, dragging her closer, while the other slid down her back, sending a trail of fire along her spine.
A soft moan escaped her when his hand glided lower, brushing against her inner thigh with deliberate slowness. His fingers inched towards a place that sent a shock of desire through her. “Still not liking it, Amelia?” Mikhail’s lips grazed hers with every word.
Her skin burned with need, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. But with one last flicker of defiance, Amelia whispered, “I’ve had better.”
His fingers slipped between her legs, brushing against the heat there, and…
dear Lord. He began to stroke her with agonising slowness.
Her body betrayed her, arching into his touch.
She wanted to taunt him, to cut him off, but his tongue invaded her mouth, stealing her words, and leaving only raw, unfiltered need in its wake.
As she kissed him back with hunger, all thoughts of resistance melted away. A desperate craving for him engulfed her, exacerbated by the understanding that she should resist it. She was weak – weak for him, for the way he made her feel.
Mikhail’s fingers deftly worked on the single button of her pants, and any protest she might have voiced died on her lips. His hand slipped beneath her waistband, the cool air quickly replaced by the warmth of his touch.
“Mikhail…” she gasped, her voice barely more than a breath when his fingers found the sensitive bundle beneath her underwear. A shudder ran through her, and the heat from his hand spread through her body, making her weak in the knees.
Amelia clung to his shoulders, trying to stay upright, but she wasn’t prepared for his next move. He slid a finger inside her, and the gradual, deliberate motion sent shivers of pleasure rippling down her spine.
“For heaven’s sake, Mikhail,” she moaned.
When he withdrew his hand, only to return with two fingers, her back arched, and her eyes fluttered shut. He guided her towards the edge, his movements sure and unrelenting, and she no longer tried to stifle the sounds escaping her.
One hand held her steady against the tree, while the other explored her with a skill that left her ashamed of how easily she surrendered to him. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more, needing more.
“Show me how much you don’t like it, little beast,” Mikhail whispered in her ear, his voice dripping with dark amusement.
As if on command, her body trembled in sweet agony, and she clung to him as the pleasure washed over her, overwhelming her senses. She pulsed around his fingers long after the desperate cry of release had left her lips, echoing through the quiet forest.
When the last waves of her orgasm faded, Mikhail slowly withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips, licking them.
Amelia frowned, trying to catch her breath. “Why did you do that?”
He smirked, his gaze locked on hers. “Because you taste like citrus and geranium, and…”
“No.” Her voice wavered. “Why did you do this to me, knowing I’m in such a… vulnerable state?”
His smug smile only widened, the glint in his eyes making it clear she hadn’t regained her composure. She lowered her gaze, fumbling to button her pants, trying not to look like a woman who had just been pleasured in the woods.
“Amelia, look at me,” he commanded softly.
When she mustered the courage to meet his gaze, Mikhail’s eyes were a deep, molten gold hue.
“Now we’re going inside, and I’m going to make love to you,” he said.
Her jaw clenched. God, his confidence was infuriating.
Before she could respond, Mikhail wrapped one arm around her waist and the other under her knees, lifting her into his arms.
“Put me down!” she protested, her voice laced with frustration. Mikhail laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You think this is funny?” The stern tone she aimed for fell short.
Was he really planning to take her back inside and follow through on his promise? Her head spun and her thoughts were a chaotic mess.
It wasn’t until they neared the gate, and Mikhail set her down on the snow-covered ground, that her mind cleared a bit. The cold seeping through her boots served as a grounding force.
“I’d gladly carry you to my bed, but I doubt you’d want the entire building to witness it.” He brushed her lips with a quick kiss.
“You’re absolutely right,” she murmured.
“Mikhail!” one of the creatures from the central guard post called out, rushing towards them.
Mikhail turned to Amelia. “I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”
She continued towards the entrance, the space his absence created providing a momentary relief, a chance to gather her thoughts and emotions.
Glancing back over her shoulder, he was standing about fifty feet away, his back to her. The black shirt, damp with snow, clung to his broad shoulders, and his wet hair stuck to the nape of his neck. The other man gestured while he spoke, but his words didn’t carry across the distance.
When Mikhail caught up with her in the middle of the courtyard, his expression was tense. “There’s been a change in plans.” Despite his upright posture, the unease radiating from him was palpable. He even attempted a smile when Amelia asked what was wrong. “An old friend has come to see me.”
“An old friend?” Amelia’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that… a good thing?”
“According to rumours, he hasn’t left his home in a hundred and fifty years, and now he’s here to see me…
” Mikhail’s gaze drifted upward and scanned the upper floors of the Hospital.
His eyes swept over the two wings before settling on the central building and its looming tower.
When he faced her, his touch was gentle, brushing a finger across her cheek.
“Your eyes turn silver when you’re aroused.
Whether you like it or not, you are the Oracle. Don’t forget that for a second.”
Warmth spread through Amelia’s chest, but it did little to quell her growing sense of dread. She had been around Mikhail long enough to recognise the subtle shift in his demeanour, the tension in the air signalling trouble.
While they approached the entrance, his hand found hers. Despite their recent conversation about not being seen together, she clung to him, craving the reassurance his touch offered.
They released each other only at the threshold of the Hospital. The foyer was bustling with people dressed in black uniforms and heavy leather boots, each equipped with handcuffs hanging from their belts.
All eyes were on them, but Mikhail made his way through the crowd with calm.
At the far end of the foyer, Zacharia stood with a serious expression.
Beside him, Viktor paced, his white coat flaring out with each turn.
Off to the side, Amelia spotted Agent Kane.
His beady eyes locked onto Mikhail, and his lips twitched as if itching to speak, but he remained silent.
It was then that Amelia laid eyes on the man.
At first glance, he seemed like any other alpha male from the immortal world – tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in dark clothing like the others.
But something was different about him. He wore a long black coat, unbuttoned to his ankles, with a wide wool collar that framed a golden medallion on his chest. A gold mask obscured his face, shaped into the menacing snarl of a demon, with dark brown hair cut to military precision peeking out from beneath its edges.
“Hello, Presiyan,” Mikhail greeted him with an even tone.
“Mikhail, on behalf of the Tribunal, I ask that you come with me without resistance.” Presiyan’s voice emerged from behind the mask, deep and unsettling, each word vibrating with an ominous finality.
Mikhail had said this man was a friend. Why was he asking Mikhail to go without resistance?
“I have no intention of resisting.” Mikhail extended his hands, and before Amelia could comprehend what was happening, Presiyan produced a pair of handcuffs from beneath his coat and secured them around his wrists.
“While I’m gone”—Mikhail raised his voice, his eyes finding hers one last time—“Vladislav Nyavolski will manage the Hospital, Zacharia will handle any other issues, and Constantine will lead the Council.”
Amelia silently pleaded for an explanation, but the steel determination in his eyes warned her not to ask questions.
With measured steps, Mikhail walked towards the exit, his hands bound in front of him, Presiyan following behind. Agent Kane and the rest of the uniformed men trailed after them.
It wasn’t until the doors swung wide open and allowed the icy wind to rush into the foyer, that Amelia felt a profound emptiness stretch between her and the world, as if an invisible cord connecting her to reality had been pulled taut, threatening to snap.