Page 31 of Taken By Touch and Torment

Her eyes flitted to mine.

“Then do not presume the same about me.”

Her words struck me, and I realized that we’d gone somewhere deeper—Rosalind was offering me a peek under her flawless mask. Unless, of course, it was a tactful ruse. There was no way to tell.

“Who taught you about your powers, Rosalind?”

“No one. I taught myself,” she said. She frowned then glanced away again, toward the statue of Heraphane. She surveyed the space—the beautiful art and décor, piles of unopened gifts, and platters of decadent food.

Finally, the pain and loneliness I’d been searching for entered her warm brown irises. She looked back to me.

“I was alone until I met you.”

14

SCARLETT

“Position four,” Durian said.

I quickly fell to my knees and opened my hips, tilted my head to stare at the floor, and placed my hands palm-up on my thighs.

“Good pet.”

I couldn’t dissociate in Durian’s chambers tonight. I had to be fully present, fully alert. It was the only way I could survive his grueling tests and inspections. My mind flitted to the dungeons of Odessa, where I’d witnessed dominants and their submissives performing similar protocol. The difference was that those subs had consensually yielded their power.

I had once given someone my power. And it was nothing like this. Even if Durian and I acted out the same scenes I’d done with Rune, they would never compare. Bile churned in my stomach.

At the sink of my heart and the surge of fear in my veins, I quickly erased Rune’s beautiful face from my mind.

Durian circled me. Straight blond hair brushed his shoulders, and razor-sharp eyes flashed ire. “Position seven.”

I started to move, but then my face fell. Panic rose in my chest. “Master, there is no position seven.”

He yanked me up by my hair, and I screamed. This elicited a deep moan from him. “My apologies, pet. We haven’t learned that one yet. Why don’t I just show you?”

Durian dragged me over to one of the chairs in his living room and threw me to the ground. I let myself be moved as a mere object—allowing him to shove my arms and legs apart and arching my back when he slapped my ass. I winced at the impact but fought the urge to move.

“Position seven is called table.”

Last night, he’d caned me until I was sobbing and bleeding and then he’d licked the blood from my thighs and tears from my cheeks. He still barely allowed me to interact with anyone but him. He told me I couldn’t be trusted until I’d gone through rigorous training.

Durian sat in the chair. Then he rested his boots on my back as if I were a human stool.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, pet,” Durian said with a sigh. He crossed his feet, and my back ached from the weight of his legs and the unnatural position. “I know you’re fighting me still, despite your perfect little acts of subservience. That is why I won’t allow you off leash. You have not been sufficiently broken in, and since you only continue this willfulness, I am forced to employ more custom-tailored methods.”

After several beats of silence, he slid his legs off my back.

There was the unmistakable prickle of warning curling around my spine. I broke out into a cold sweat along my temples.

Durian stood.

I knew the energy in the air. Anticipatory hunger. Power for the sake of power, control for the sake of control. My body just another patch of land for men to stick their flags in.

The cool touch of the void brushed my cheek, promising me the sweetest of escapes. I wanted to lean in. I didn’t want to smell burned bread, feel my body slide along rain-soaked grass and mud as Trevin’s face hovered above me. I didn’t want to hear Isabella’s voice saying, Scarlett, I’ve seen you flirt with Trevin at least a dozen times. You’re a manipulator, and sooner or later the allure will wear off and they’ll come to collect what you’ve so freely offered.

I wanted to fade away instead.

But the more expansive part of me—that stubborn woman who flew on a firebird to the city of vampires, fingers brushing the clouds—she felt the ground beneath her, smelled fire and leather, heard crackling flames and Durian’s quickened breathing.

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