To Steal an Immortal Heart

Here's an Exclusive cut scene

By: H.L. Hines

Here's an exclusive cut scene — get a taste of the sizzling tension between Nadia and Malrik! If you like high-stakes romance with sharp wit and dark secrets, To Steal an Immortal Heart is your next obsession.

"Nadia. Do you remember my rules?"

"Yes," I muttered through clenched teeth.

My hands slid down my thighs, tucking the hem of my dress under my legs without thinking. Malrik's eyes tracked the motion, and I cursed myself. I hated how easily he picked up on my tells.

"Then say them."

"I lie, and I get spanked."

The previous slaps still rang in my ears, and I definitely still felt them on my thighs. Two shivers raced down my spine: one from the memory, the other from right now.

I should've been angry. After the last "lesson," Malrik had stalked out, and I'd slipped a hand between my legs to finish what he'd left undone, only for him to come right back and start all over again.

God. I could get used to his kind of attention.

Even left aching, Malrik's touch did more for me than any of the forgettable men I'd toyed with lately. One look from him, and my heartbeat shot straight to my core, my brain fogged, and a needy kind of recklessness kicked in. From the first moment I saw him, I knew he was dangerous.

I just didn't realize how addictive his touch would be.

Or how completely one-sided it was.

I'd seen stone statues melt faster than him. A lesser man's willpower would've crumbled hours ago. But not Malrik.

Flirting with him was like trying to seduce a wall.

A very hot, aggravatingly disciplined wall.

But I had bigger problems than Malrik's infuriating ability to resist my charms.

The dagger. He wanted to see it. I couldn't exactly tell him the truth—that I'd already handed it over to the man who'd sent me to steal from him in the first place.

That… wasn't a conversation I was ready to have.

Just thinking about giving it up made my chest tighten. I shouldn't feel regret—but I did. Real. Raw. And it had nothing to do with the lie I was about to tell.

From the sharp inhale he took, I could already tell his patience was running thin.

So I did what any strong, self-preserving, deceptively clever woman would do.

I cried.

Not full sobbing. Not yet. Just enough to catch his attention.

Tears welled, but I kept them balanced behind my lashes. I sat up and sniffled. It was both soft and strategic.

When my tears were ready to fall, I looked up at him. At his glare, I let the sobs break through, lifting my shaking hands in that perfect blend of shield and spotlight.

"What else was in the safe, Nadia? Your tears won't work on me."

Too late. They already were.

His tone softened. His shoulders dropped. Malrik's body gave him away.

Any man who melted at a woman's tears was begging to be manipulated. That was my motto. One of them, anyway.

Did I feel bad for trying to steal from him? For lying? For doing everything in my power to wrap him around my finger?

No…well, maybe. A little.

But not enough to stop.

You miss every shot you don't take, right?

So I let myself slide down the wall, curling in on myself like my legs couldn't hold me. A single, delicate sob 'slipped' free. When Malrik knelt in front of me, I flinched—just barely. Just enough.

Guess drama class was worth something after all.

He sighed. I had him hooked, like a sucker fish.

Now came the hard part.

I looked up and sniffed. "I know what you're talking about," I whispered. "There was this guy. He had information on me. The kind that gets you locked up for a long time."

And that's when a single tear slid down my cheek. There was an art to crying, to holding the swell in and controlling the flow like a faucet.

"I couldn't go to prison. Not with my sticky fingers—I'd get shanked. I'm not a fighter. There's nothing beautiful in prison. I'd go insane. I can't be someone's wifey and—"

"Nadia."

"I gave him the dagger to keep him quiet. It was either that or…"

I let my voice trail off, dropped my gaze, and let the tears spill.

The story was true. Not the part about the dagger, of course. But even pulling from one of my darker memories made it all feel tangible—mildew, broken tile, slick hands I couldn't scrub off.

No. Don't go there.

One breath. That's all I gave myself to regain my composure.

"I'm sure he's already pried the jewels off and sold them. Piece by piece."

Malrik didn't explode. Instead, he reached out and helped me to my feet. His hands on my face were too gentle. Even that was too much.

I turned away before I could flinch, moving to the kitchen. That beat of hesitation where the big guy's fingers held on just a second too long, stabbed something sharp and unfamiliar into my chest.

I hated being touched. Hugged. Held, especially held. Every time a man tried, I felt trapped. Nothing could make me angrier, aside from letting a treasure slip through my fingers.

But his hands?

They didn't trap me. They made me feel still. And I hated that even more.

Stillness wasn't safety. Stillness was surrender. Stillness and silence forced you to reflect—and looking back, with a past like mine, was dangerous.

I poured a glass of water, drank it, and then poured another. I angled my body just enough to keep Malrik in view without giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.

"This man," he asked quietly, "he tried to force himself on you?"

I froze.

Greasy hands. That smirk. The sludge on my skin that took days to scrub off. Cold dread swept over me.

I barely made it out. I had to sneak past his friends. The longer I stayed in my memory, the harder my heart pounded.

Another sip. Stay present. Don't borrow trouble from the past.

Malrik was dangerous enough on his own.

[Read the full story here — grab your copy of To Steal an Immortal Heart today!]

About the Author

H.L. Hines is an Ohio native who weaves complex tales of strength and survival into all her novels. Her writing immerses readers in an intricate blend of dark, female-led fantasy, romance, and political intrigue, merging the forces of magic and science with high-stakes power plays in richly crafted fantasy worlds.

With a focus on deep character development and dominant themes of rebellion, loyalty, and redemption, Hines explores the delicate balance between personal and political stakes in realms where magic and passion collide.

She enjoys learning anything and has a penchant for the dark and unexplored. When she's not crafting fantastical realms in her novels or creating adventures for her D&D group, Hines finds solace in nature, drawing inspiration from the wild to fuel her storytelling.