Page 50 of A Touch of Madness

I’d rather die trying to protect the people I’ve grown to love.

There’s no room for hesitation. I plant my feet firmly, drawing in a ragged breath as I summon every ounce of strength I have left.

“Please,” I whisper to whatever power might be listening. “Please let this work.”

I close my eyes, my trembling hands pressing against the Mirror’s cold surface. The energy radiating from it lashes out, jagged and sharp, cutting into me like shards of glass. My head throbs, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might shatter, but I hold on. Somewhere in the distance, I hear Lucian’s voice calling my name, but it’s muffled, as though he’s a thousand miles away. All I can hear is the hum of the Mirror, deep and resonant, like a storm building inside me.

“Sylvie!” Amara calls. “You mustn’t do anything to that artifact. Your sister’s life depends on it! You best not forget?—”

“Enough!” I scream, my voice breaking as I pour every ounce of my will into the relic. Light bursts from my hands, blinding and searing, illuminating the chamber with a brilliance that feels both holy and destructive. The Mirror resists, its shadows writhing against the light, but I press harder, my teeth clenched, tears streaming down my face.

Memories flood my mind, unbidden and sharp. Lara’s smile. The nights we spent whispering secrets. The promise I made to her. The love I’ve clung to, even in her absence. That love surges through me now, mingling with the raw power tearing through my body, and I scream again, louder, pushing back against the Mirror’s darkness.

The relic begins to crack. Fine lines spiderweb across its surface, glowing with a light that burns brighter with every second. My body shakes violently, my knees threatening to give out, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop. The room trembles, the walls groaning under the force of the magic unleashed. The Mirror lets out a piercing shriek, its power fighting to the very end, but then… it shatters.

The explosion of light and energy knocks me backward, and I collapse to the ground, the breath ripped from my lungs. The shards of the Mirror scatter across the chamber, disintegrating into wisps of smoke that dissolve into nothingness. The oppressive weight in the air lifts, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.

When I open my eyes, my vision swims, the world a haze of blurred shapes and muted colors. I can barely make out Amara, standing frozen, her once-powerful presence reduced to something frail and human. Her dark magic is gone, stripped away by the destruction of the Mirror. Her two men stagger, their hulking forms diminished, their strength drained.

It worked.

“No!” Amara’s wail is guttural, filled with rage, agony, and desperation. She lunges toward the nearest exit, her voice a torrent of obscenities and furious threats.

The vampires are faster. Dorian intercepts her, his blade a blur as he slams the hilt into her side, forcing her to the ground. Viago and Kristoff close in on the two men, their movements precise and efficient. The enforcers barely have time to react before they’re immobilized, Viago’s blade pressed against one’s throat while Kristoff pins the other’s arms behind his back.

Amara thrashes, her fury undiminished even in defeat. “You think this is over?” she spits, her voice venomous. “You’ve won nothing!”

I watch through half-closed eyes, my body too weak to move, as Lucian steps forward. His presence is calm but commanding, his gaze cold as he kneels beside her. “It’s over for you,” he says quietly, his tone laced with finality.

Amara glares up at him, her defiance unwavering, but there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes now. She knows she’s lost.

“We take them. Alive,” Viago says. “They will be our prisoners for the remainder of their days.”

“Sylvie,” Lucian’s voice breaks through the haze. He’s by my side in an instant, his hand steadying me as I struggle to sit up.

“It’s done,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. My head lolls against his shoulder, my eyelids fluttering shut as exhaustion overtakes me. The last thing I see is the shattered remnants of the Mirror, glowing faintly before fading into nothingness.

“It’s done.”

The first thing I register is full-body warmth.

It’s everywhere—wrapping around me, settling deep into my bones. For a moment, I let myself drift in it, weightless and untethered, my body hovering between consciousness and something softer, quieter. The world vibrates distantly, muffled, as if I’m buried under layers of thick, heavy fabric.

I inhale slowly. The air is laced with herbs and smoke, something grounding—lavender and rosemary. A far-off memory tugs at me, but I can’t place it yet. My fingers twitch against fabric sheets, but the material isn’t familiar. It’s too crisp, too sterile.

Panic prickles at the edges of my mind.

I try to sit up, still unable to fully open my eyes, but my limbs protest, heavy and sluggish. The warmth shifts, cool air rushing against my skin, and the muffled voices sharpen into clarity.

“She’s waking up,” a familiar voice murmurs.

I blink, my vision swimming as shapes take form around me. Rebecca and Nicole sit to my right, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Across from them, Lucian.

My Lucian.

His form is a silhouette against the candlelight, his gaze locked onto me with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.

I try to speak, but my throat is dry, my voice cracking. “Where am I?” I ask through painful chapped lips.

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