Page 88 of The Madness Within

“You’re stitched in fate,” she rasped, her fingers cold and skeletal on my wrist. “But not by your own thread. You’re sewn by blood… and buried fire.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means,” she whispered, “you are both weapon and warning. The Veil feeds off both. And the Watchers were meant to guide it. But they’ve long since forgotten their purpose.”

I glanced at Dorian. He didn’t speak. Just watched me like he was waiting for me to break or bloom.

The next stop was a serpent witch in the swamplands. Her name was Inez, and her eyes were blacker than death.

“Your mother came to me,” she hissed, coiled on her throne of bones and waterweed. “She begged me to hide you. But I could only delay the prophecy. Not erase it.”

“Prophecy?” I asked, the word sharp on my tongue.

She smiled. Her teeth were too many. “The one that says you are the bridge. The vessel. The tear and the seal.”

My mouth went dry. “I don’t understand.”

“You will. The Watchers are not just there to monitor and observe. They were built to decide. When the Veil opens fully, what comes through, and what must be destroyed.”

I shivered. “And I’m supposed to make that choice?”

“Yes.” Her grin widened. “You are thekey.”

Before I could ask anything else, she leaned forward, breathed hot and damp. “Your mother left you something. Hidden in the place where her life ended, and yours began.”

Dorian stepped forward, voice low. “Where?”

The witch’s eyes narrowed. “The Hollow Orchard. Beneath the roots of the oldest tree. But beware, only blood can unlock blood.”

We left in silence.

The car was colder now. Or maybe that’s just me.

Dorian glanced at me once, then again, his voice barely audible over the road. “Still think you’re meant to walk this alone?”

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “But I think… the road is only just beginning.”

He reached over, fingers grazing mine, and this time, I didn't pull away. Because the truth was burning clearer than ever: Whatever I was, whatever I was becoming, it’s not something I could hide from anymore.

And now that I knew where to look… I was going to find every answer my mother left behind.

Even if it killed me.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

??What Was Buried Beneath Her Name

Ember

We pulled up to the house I used to call home, and for a moment, it felt like the air itself held its breath, like even the ghosts were waiting for me to knock.

The trees still rose like skeletal fingers against a gray sky. The wind still carried that faint, sour-sweet scent of rotting apples and earth. But the moment I stepped onto the property, my chest tightened.

It wasn’t nostalgia. It was something heavier. Like a memory lodged in the ribs, pulsing with old magic.

I hadn’t been back since the night I lost her.

My mother.

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