Page 41 of A Touch of Madness

I want Solstice gone. For Lucian. For Rebecca and Nicole. For Ravenna.

For all the people I’ve come to care about.

I also need Lara to be herself again. I want that artifact so we can complete the incantation.

Viago has made it clear: this happens now or never. He’s impatient, as always apparently, and while part of me wonders if that urgency is more about him than the plan itself, I can’t afford to delay. The Mirror of Thorns holds too many answers, too much potential. Tonight, it all comes to a head.

Despite me being unable to meet with the three elders again, due to time constraints and their schedules, they have still agreed to help. Thankfully. Ravenna’s also managed to convince several trusted colleagues to come as back up. Their presence should make the ritual possible, assuming we can get the Mirror. That’s the part that gnaws at me. The act of getting it.

Or of failing while trying.

I’ve run the scenarios through my mind a hundred times. I’ve thought about the wards, the traps, the Solstice enforcers who will stop at nothing to protect their stronghold. And through it all, I keep coming back to one thought: this can’t just be about brute force. We need precision, timing. We need to rely on each other, even if our alliances are tenuous at best.

I glance at the faint scars on my hands, remnants of my training over the past week. They’re a reminder of how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go. Tonight isn’t just a battle—it’s a test. Of my strength, my resolve, and my ability to see this through.

But most of all, it’s a chance. A chance to set things right. A chance to bring Lara back.

And I’m not going to let it slip away.

The soft knock on the bedroom door pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to see Lucian stepping into the room, his presence a mixture of calm and tension that mirrors my own. He’s always so composed, yet tonight, there’s something in his eyes—a storm of emotions he’s holding back.

“You should be resting,” he says, his voice low as he closes the door behind him.

I shake my head. “I can’t. Not now. My mind won’t stop racing.”

He steps closer, his gaze softening as it sweeps over me. “It’s a lot to carry, Sylvie. You need to be prepared for the night, though.”

His lips quirk into a brief, almost-smile, but it fades just as quickly. “I mean it. You’ve come so far in such a short time. What you’re doing... it’s more than anyone should have to bear. If something goes wrong tonight...”

“Lucian,” I interrupt, meeting his gaze. “If something goes wrong, we’ll deal with it. Together. I’ve made my choice.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but the silence between us feels heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if compelled by something neither of us can name, he reaches out, his hand brushing against mine. The touch is gentle, grounding, and yet it sends a shiver through me.

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not. None of this is simple.”

I step closer, tilting my head to look up at him. “Maybe not. But it’s worth it. Isn’t it?”

For a moment, the weight of everything—the plan, the danger, the uncertainty—melts away. It’s just us, standing in the quiet of this room, clinging to something neither of us can fully define. Slowly, he leans down, and I meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a kiss that feels like both a promise and a question.

The kiss deepens, our movements instinctive and filled with an urgency that matches the storm swirling around us. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer, while my fingers tangle in his hair. There’s no hesitation now, only the raw need to hold onto this fleeting moment.

Our bond—our connection in this lifetime—has been growing from the moment I first stepped foot in his classroom. But between the act of Lucian taking my virginity and drinking from me, it’s transformed into something I can’t even properly describe with words. It’s otherworldly.

It’s not just desire, not just some fragile infatuation. It’s something deeper, something ancient, something that thrums through my veins like a song I’ve always known but never had the words for until now. Every glance, every touch, every whispered vow between us feels like a thread weaving our souls together, tighter and tighter, binding us to something beyond this moment, beyond this lifetime.

His presence is carved into me, into my very essence. I feel him even when he’s not near—an ache, a whisper at the edge of my senses. It’s as though the act of giving myself to him, of allowing him to drink from me, has unlocked something raw and primal between us. A tether stronger than blood, deeper than love.

He sees me—truly sees me—in a way no one else ever has. And when I look at him, I don’t just see a man or even a vampire. I see a force of nature, an unrelenting storm that I have no desire to seek shelter from. He’s my anchor in the chaos, my quiet in the madness. He makes me feel safe, but more than that—he makes me feel seen. Like I’ve been waiting for him all my life, maybe even longer.

I don’t just want him. I need him. Not because I can’t stand on my own, but because the world feels sharper, more vivid, more real when he’s beside me. And the terrifying truth is, I don’t think I’d ever be the same without him now. Because Lucian Draedon isn’t just a part of my story—he’s woven into the very fabric of who I am. And the fact that I’ve found him again, in this lifetime, says it all.

“Sylvie,” he breathes against my lips, his voice rough with emotion. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t,” I whisper.

The rest of the world falls away as we give in to the pull between us. His lips find the curve of my neck, and I gasp as his hands trail over my body, exploring with a reverence that makes my heart ache. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, something neither of us can put into words.

He lets out a low sound, somewhere between a sigh and a growl, as I push the fabric off his shoulders. His skin is warm under my fingertips, a contrast to the cold tension that’s been building between us for weeks. When his hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, I feel the strength in his hold—protective, yet unyielding.

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