Page 5 of Taken By Touch and Torment

Durian stood before a flashy throne of black crystal that swirled with flickering magick. Surrounding him were who I assumed were his inner circle, Liza included, along with mostly born men with rigid postures and unfeeling, severe demeanors.

I kept my face neutral, delirious with pain from the crawling. Next to Liza was a born woman with the creepiest, fake-looking smile, tall with black hair and a thin, pointy nose. Like all born, she possessed an innate, otherworldly beauty. But the cruel ice she radiated was nearly enough to overshadow her natural good looks.

“I must admit, I thought you’d been exaggerating, Liza,” the creepy woman said, her voice deceptively high-pitched and sweet-sounding. “She’s simply exquisite.”

“She was made to serve Durian,” Liza said. “More evidence Lillian has blessed him with his divine mission.”

Being treated like a docile animal as I listened to them speak about me in third person had a way of making me want to go fucking rabid.

Durian’s eyes were cold, calculating, even as he smiled. “I have no need for more evidence.”

Liza straightened. “No, of course, I?—”

“Evangeline. Liza,” a man barked, making a beckoning motion with his hand. The two women followed him off the dais without another word.

“Pet, how badly do you want to walk? This is a victorious day of celebration, after all,” Durian said. Several of his men chuckled and watched me with cruel smiles.

Their desire radiated from them in a strong current. I pulled it toward me, using it to soothe my aching knees, to quiet my racing heart.

Victorious day of celebration. What the hell did that mean? Oh gods, what had happened? My panic surged. I might’ve been condemned to a fate worse than death, but I still cared what happened to my friends—to Aristelle and all of Valentin. The faith that Rune and the turned would at least one day annihilate the born and dismantle the slave trade was one of the few reliefs I still harbored.

Durian yanked me up to my feet and slapped me.

A gasp left my lips, and I saw stars.

“Pets don’t think,” he snarled in my face, his breath reeking of copper. “Your only purpose now is to serve. And I asked you a fucking question.”

All of my unhealed wounds opened up, demanding my attention. I wanted to shut down, to recede into the empty place. My mind grew fuzzy, and I no longer felt any sensation in my body.

Five things you see, Rune’s voice echoed from my memories, the only thing in my mind that wasn’t violent and hollow. List them, Little Flame.

Durian’s blond hair, straight and unmoving. His jet-black eyes. His pale pink lips twisted into a snarl. The light of the grand chandelier above. The men in my periphery, tonguing their throbbing fangs.

“I would like to walk very badly, Master. If you will allow it,” I managed to say. The cool air had bumps rising on my skin, my nipples hardening. And they could all see it—they could see every bit of me.

Durian nodded. “I will allow you to earn walking privileges, if you can prove to me your obedience.”

I wanted to float away. I didn’t want to be here any longer. What had I done to deserve this? My only crime was ever being born at all.

Something you can touch?

The floor. My bare feet touched the cool marble. “Yes, Master,” I whispered, even as it killed me. I may have wanted to give up. But whether it was Lillian’s spite, or sheer dumb stubbornness, the tiniest part of me wanted to go down kicking and screaming.

Rune might’ve called it my spark—before he had forsaken me.

What are three things you can hear?

Durian’s hum of approval. The blood rushing in my ears. One of the born men behind me saying, now that’s an ass I’d like to sink my teeth into.

“Listen carefully, human,” Durian said, as if he were speaking to a child. “Any hesitation will cost you. More than three instances, and you lose. You will crawl for weeks until you can try again.”

I couldn’t crawl any longer, and it had been less than a day of it. My knees would give out.

“Bark like a dog,” Durian said.

I hesitated. And it cost me.

Durian moved quicker than my eyes could follow. He lifted me and shoved me toward his throne. He manhandled me like I was nothing more than a doll until my hands were on either arm rest, my legs were spread, and my back was arched. My back was to the room.

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