Page 34 of A Touch of Madness

“By building your reserves,” Cassandra says. “Focus on strengthening your body and mind over the next couple of weeks. Like I said, meditation, exercise, eating the right foods—these are all essential.”

“And don’t forget rest,” Ravenna adds. “Between each of your practice sessions, you’ll need to wind down. Your body needs time to recover, especially as you push yourself further.”

I glance at Nicole and Rebecca, who both nod in agreement. “We’ll help you,” Nicole says firmly.

“Whatever you need,” Rebecca adds.

Their support bolsters me, but the weight of the task ahead still feels overwhelming. I know this is only the first step, and the road ahead will be long and difficult. This is what I’ve asked for, and I’m well aware there is no turning back.

“You’ll continue practicing the incantation as you work on your strength and endurance. Don’t let a day go by without at least one attempt. We don’t want you overexerting yourself, but your body and mind need time to turn this into muscle memory. Small bits of time each day will work wonders for you,” Cassandra says with a knowing smile. “You’re welcome to come back here and use this room anytime you like.”

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the unknown and hoping I can do this without destroying Lara and myself—and these women in front of me—in the process.

The Crimson Veil feels like less bar and more powder keg waiting for a spark. Shadows stretch long across the room, where whispered deals and quiet murmurs twist together in an uneasy symphony. The air is dense, steeped in the tang of copper and faint traces of human desperation as they try to convince their partners to take them to the feeding club. The Crimson Veil is the step before Midnight Delight. It’s where most bring their partners prior to subjecting them to the feeding club—just to see if they can handle it.

The air in here is thick with tension as representatives of all three of our factions settle in—a volatile mix of allies and rivals. Viago, naturally, commands the head of the table, his posture lazy but his gaze sharp. His second-in-command, a gaunt man named Tobias who actually managed to make it to our first meeting, hovers behind him, his hands clasped like a mourner at a graveside.

Across from me, Dorian sits rigid, his jaw tight as he observes the Unbound representatives—Kristoff and Vada, both dressed in stark black, their expressions unreadable. This is a room built on frayed trust, every word a tightrope walk over treachery.

Viago wastes no time establishing himself. “Good evening, gentlemen, lady,” he begins, his voice smooth as silk. “Before we address tonight’s agenda, allow me to share some good news. The shipment of blood packs from the northern territories has arrived. Another temporary fix, yes, but one that should keep your people from tearing each other apart—at least for the next few weeks while you continue to build up your reserves.”

“You act as though you’ve done this out of charity,” Dorian mutters, his voice laced with skepticism. “You’ve merely delayed the problem, so we look at you as a savior.”

“Is that what you think?” Viago replies with a smirk, leaning forward. “I would remind you, Dorian, that without my intervention, your ‘neutral’ little corner of the world would be running dry. Midnight Alliance would be just as feral as the Unbound—no offense, you two,” he says as he motions toward Vada and Kristoff. “Or maybe slight offense.” He glances back to Dorian. “Perhaps a little gratitude is in order.”

“I think we should move on,” I cut in, weary of their sparring. “If this is about the Solstice Society, then get to the point.”

Viago asked we all meet tonight, the representatives from each faction, in order to speak on how to move forward with getting rid of the Solstice Society for good. It isn’t like we’ve never attempted to organize something before, but their dark magic is strong, and the factions have always been on the same page until now—why disrupt what isn’t killing us? Yet, that is. Though it seems we’re running out of time.

Viago’s smirk deepens, as though my impatience amuses him. “Ah, yes. Solstice. The thorn in all our sides. They’ve grown bolder, more dangerous. We can’t afford another year of sitting idly by while they tighten their hold and get closer to ending the curse that began it all—thus, my friends, ending us all.”

“Bolder because they’ve had the luxury of time,” says Vada, the female Unbound representative. Her voice is as sharp as her dark eyes. “Every year we hesitate, their fucked-up magic grows stronger. We should have destroyed them a decade ago.”

“And yet, here we are,” Kristoff interjects, his tone cold. “Do you have a better plan than waiting until they suffocate us entirely?”

Viago raises a hand, a thin smile tugging at his lips. “Patience, Kristoff. I do have the makings of a potential plan. A bold one, but it requires precision—and perhaps a little… creativity.”

“Creativity,” I echo, leaning back in my chair. “You mean desperation.”

Viago ignores me because I’m right. “An ambush,” he says, letting the word hang in the air. “A coordinated strike at their stronghold.”

Vada scoffs. “An ambush? As if they haven’t fortified their territory with every spell in their arsenal? We wouldn’t make it past the front gate.”

“She’s right,” I say, folding my arms and remembering all Henry Quill has told me. “The Society isn’t an ordinary enemy. Their defenses aren’t just physical. They’ve layered their stronghold with enchantments. Spells designed to repel, confuse, and incapacitate. Even if we managed to breach the perimeter, the cost would be catastrophic.”

“That’s why we need someone who cancountertheir magic,” Viago says, his gaze sliding to me like a blade. “Someone with...dare I say,uniqueabilities.”

My jaw tightens, knowing where this is going.

“Someone like Sylvie,” he continues, his tone almost casual.

“Absolutely not,” I snap, my voice cutting through the room like a whip. The others turn to me, but I don’t care. “Sylvie is not a weapon to be wielded.”

“She’s more than that, isn’t she?” Viago presses, leaning forward with the precision of a predator. “You’ve seen it. Her potential. Her power. If anyone could pierce their defenses, it’s her. You think I haven’t researched the girl?”

“She doesn’t fully know how to control it,” I argue. “She’s still incredibly new to all of this. And even if she were an expert, I wouldn’t allow her to be dragged into this.”

Vada’s gaze sharpens. “Allow? Is she a child in need of protection, or are you simply afraid she’ll realize she’s stronger than you?”

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