Page 33 of Taken By Touch and Torment

“Fine,” Durian said, now speaking loudly enough for me to hear. “No one may feed from her or touch her sensually. Everything else is fair game. Any missteps on her part or others’ gets reported to me.”

He thought I was mesmerized by him, that I secretly wanted to spend time with him. Now he needed to put up distance to continue his deprivation tactics. He wanted me to feel hurt that he was suddenly allowing others to interact with me.

The leader of Valentin’s born clan thought he was playing games with a naive, confused human. He had no idea that I had guided his hand to make each and every move.

I had the fleeting thought that Rune would’ve been proud, if he’d still loved me. If he’d still been rooting for me, whispering that I was perfect into my ear as his shadows held me close.

It wasn’t difficult at all to appear stricken, deflated, as Durian passed me off to Brennan. That glimpse of real turmoil was exactly what this game needed to make the king finally fall.

15

SCARLETT

I’d been allowed to wear a black dress with a deep cut and slits that went higher than my hips. As usual, it left little to the imagination. As I walked behind Brennan through the halls, I was caught between two equally strong urges.

First, to shower and scrub and cry until Durian’s touch had rinsed away and sunk into the drain.

Second, I wanted to fucking smirk.

Durian had lost. He might not have known it, but he’d lost. I’d completely altered the behavior of the two most powerful men on the born side of Aristelle. And this newfound power felt good—better than good—it was the sweetness of a peach in the summer heat, the widest of grins as fruit juice dribbled down my chin. It was the streak of a firebird against the night. It was the flame that refused to die.

For the first time since I’d become a slave, I saw a way out.

Rune’s voice echoed in my mind before I could stop it.

A powerful, well-trained succubus isn’t only capable of provoking and feeding off sexual compulsion. They’re able to pinpoint deeper desires, perhaps even ones that contradict a person’s duties and loyalties. The little urges we repress, a succubus can locate and coax out, make so much grander than they ever would’ve been on their own. Incubi and succubi have toppled entire regimes when they’ve gone undetected.

Toppled entire regimes.

Those three words repeated through my mind. They were the vengeful flames licking up the sides of my devastation, my grief, my utter humiliation. They were the fury at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Frightening, terrible, and divine.

I wanted to laugh. When passing vampires ogled me, I fought the urge to lick my lips.

In a rush of vampire speed, I found myself snatched and pushed up against a wall in a secluded alcove of the palace halls.

Brennan flashed his fangs, his handsome features carrying a much different allure than Durian’s. Durian was charming in his resoluteness, his call to the sublime and goddess-blessed, his eloquent, moving speeches and cold, warlord-style leadership.

Brennan, on the other hand, was the warmth and humor Durian lacked. Still a bloodthirsty, born psychopath, but more personable. If Durian was the spiritual and political face of the born, Brennan was the sociable man of the people. Compared to the other lords, he was a teddy bear.

He leaned into my neck, inhaling deeply.

Emphasis on compared to.

As usual when a man was this close to me, I only thought of Rune. The sickest part of me wanted to lean into the fantasy, imagine it was truly him instead.

But the hours of torture the past two weeks by his hand quickly snapped me out of it.

Brennan pulled back, his hazel eyes darkening as his arrogant smirk spread. His short chestnut hair was perfectly placed, his suit finely tailored.

“Hello Scarlett,” he said. “It’s a shame we’ve had such little opportunity to get to know each other, isn’t it?”

I’d nearly forgotten what my name sounded like. The only person who called me Scarlett anymore was Rosalind.

I kept my mouth glued shut, playing into my innocent, confused, and subservient role. “I would never question my Master’s methods.”

“Mm,” Brennan said, low and gruff. He leaned in close, his breath warm against my cheek. “Of course you wouldn’t.” He studied me closely, and it reminded me of how Mason used to regard me. He was searching for clues, for defects.

But my glamour was impeccable. I knew because I’d furnished it with strength from Valentin’s most powerful vampires.

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