Page 12 of A Touch of Madness

He rises from his seat, his movements languid and deliberate. The other Unbound follow, their laughter echoing through the chamber like the taunt of a predator walking away from its prey. I already know their destination: the outskirts of our domain, where the chaos will be unleashed in their wake.

The room feels eerily empty in the wake of the Unbound's departure, but their mocking laughter lingers in the air like a foul stain. For a moment, no one speaks, the weight of their words hanging over us like an ominous storm cloud, a threat too near to ignore.

The silence rings loud, a thick veil woven of tension and unsaid truths, until it is broken by Tobias’s steely voice. His words are calm, measured, yet the subtle tremor beneath his pale features betrays a slight crack in his composure. “It doesn’t matter what they do. The Unbound are parasites. They’ll latch onto chaos, feed on it, and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces. It was pointless to even include them tonight. Or ever.”

“Which is precisely why we need to act,” Dorian says, his tone sharp and full of vigor. He turns to the Ascendancy group, his frustration barely concealed. “You can’t ignore this anymore. The Solstice Society isn’t going to stop. They’ve already proven they can cripple us. What happens when they escalate? When it’s not just blood packs, but direct attacks on our kind—or worse, on the humans who sustain us? We’ve already been experiencing firsthand issues with their group over the last few weeks. They are getting closer to ending the curse, thus ending us, or bending it to their will, by the day.” Dorian’s voice reverberates through the chamber, ringing of authority, his dark eyes burning with conviction.

Tobias folds his arms and leans back in his chair with a quiet arrogance. “You assume we haven’t considered that, Dorian. The Ascendancy has contingency plans for every scenario, including human casualties. This crisis will pass, as all others have. We simply need to retreat, consolidate resources, and wait them out. They haven’t broken or bent the curse in the past, it’s not happening anytime soon.”

“You’re not providing a solution,” I interject, my voice cutting through the ever-thickening tension. “Retreating only emboldens them. Every step we take back is a step they take forward. They’ll keep pressing until there’s no one left to resist them.”

He regards me with a cold, assessing gaze. “And you propose we strike at them? At the Solstice Society? Do you even know where to begin? Who to target? Their network is vast, their leaders elusive. We might not want to think they’re powerful, but they are. With dark magic on their side, they have endless capabilities.”

“Exactly! But they are not invincible,” I counter. “No one is. If we can identify their leadership and cut off the head of the serpent, the rest will wither. We already have contact with one of the administration leaders. The Society thrives on fear and division. If we deny them that, their power crumbles.”

His lips thin, and he glances at the other Ascendancy members, their faces unreadable behind their decades upon decades of practiced neutrality. Finally, he speaks, his tone measured. “Let’s say we agree. Do you have a plan? Or is this more of your idealistic drivel?”

“I’m working on one,” I admit. “But it starts with intelligence. We need to know who their leaders are, where they operate, because they don’t solely rely on their headquarters for their own planning, and how they are planning to strike next. That means cooperation—between the Ascendancy, the Midnight Alliance, and anyone else willing to stand against them.”

Dorian nods solemnly, the weight of his agreement hanging heavily in the air. “He’s right. The Unbound may have washed their hands of this, but we can’t afford to. If the Society succeeds, none of us will survive their purge. They’ve already proven they can manipulate us, even infiltrate us. The time for sitting idle is over.”

A murmur ripples through the Ascendancy members, their perfect façades cracking as they exchange uneasy glances.

“What about human involvement?” one of them asks. “If we start taking out the human leaders of Solstice, won’t it draw attention? Governments, authorities, the public—they’ll all come down on us. These people have families who will tie things back to us.”

“It’s a risk,” Dorian says. “But the alternative is extinction. And if we act carefully, strategically, we can eliminate their leaders without drawing unnecessary attention. We can also beat them at their own game, find their dark magic power source, and eliminate it. No killing involved. We just need a plan, and we need to move forward.”

Tobias’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’ll dismiss us outright. But then he exhales slowly, his gaze hardening. “Very well. The Ascendancy will agree to work with the Midnight Alliance—temporarily. But if this alliance jeopardizes our survival, we will withdraw immediately. I’ll be informing our head that he needs to seek out a meeting with you to catch up on all things relating to our current alliance.”

“Understood,” I say, though my voice lacks warmth, cold as the steel within me. Cooperation is progress, but trust will take far longer to build.

He rises, signaling the end of the discussion. “You have our support—for now. But remember, Lucian, the Ascendancy’s patience is not infinite. Fail, and you’ll face more than just the Solstice Society.”

With that, the Ascendancy members file out, their departure as cold and precise as their presence.

The room is quieter in their wake, the weight of his parting words heavy in the air.

Dorian turns to me, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “We’re not just fighting Solstice anymore. We’re fighting decades upon decades of mistrust and division. This alliance is hanging by a thread.”

“It’s enough,” I say, though the tremor of doubt creeps into my voice. “We have a chance now—a fragile one, but a chance. We need to safely and quietly utilize Sylvie’s connection to Solstice. She’s the key to this.”

“She’s also a target,” Dorian reminds me. “If Solstice realizes what she’s fully capable of… Her abilities are growing by the day.”

“They won’t get the chance,” I interrupt, my fists clenching at the thought. “Not while I’m still breathing.”

Dorian studies me for a moment before nodding. “Then we’d better move quickly. If we’re going to strike, we need to do so soon.”

As we step out of the chamber and into the night, the downtown district sprawls before us—a labyrinth of lights and shadows, its secrets hidden in every corner. Somewhere out there, the Solstice Society is watching, waiting for us to falter.

And I can’t allow that to happen.

The kitchen is vast, its high ceilings supported by dark wooden beams that seem to stretch endlessly. A wrought-iron chandelier hangs above, its intricate design casting dancing shadows across the stone-tiled floor. The walls are lined with deep mahogany cabinets, their polished surfaces reflecting the dim glow of flickering candles perched in silver sconces.

An island dominates the center of the room, its black marble countertop smooth and cool beneath my hands. The faint aroma of spices lingers in the air, though the shelves stocked with aged copper pots and jars of preserved herbs suggest the kitchen is more for display than use.

The staff is eerily quiet, their movements precise and efficient. A housekeeper—Margaret, if I remember correctly—nods politely as she passes, her expression unreadable. Another worker moves through the room with a tray of polished silverware, barely making a sound. The atmosphere feels heavy, as though the air itself holds its breath.

Despite the imposing surroundings, there’s an intimacy to the space, a strange contrast to the cold grandeur of the rest of Lucian’s estate. It’s here, surrounded by muted light and silent staff, that I begin to prepare a simple task—slicing fruit for my tea.

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