Page 155 of Taken By Touch and Torment

He blinked. “Stand, pet. You may look at your Master.”

I met his cold, black eyes, though I’d much preferred to avoid them. I stood, and Durian’s welcome back gesture was to simply close his hand over my airways.

I gasped for oxygen, and he leaned in close, his breath reeking of bitter copper.

“You will not leave my fucking sight. You will sleep at my feet. You will offer every inch of your flesh to your Master to drink from and make beautiful art with. All in Lillian’s honor.”

Just like Liza had said, Brennan wasn’t the only one who’d changed because of my influence.

Durian, who’d once been cold and calculating with a splash of insanity, now leaned far more heavily into his unruly psychopath side.

I choked for air, and Durian only squeezed harder, his eyes moving from lust to anger to lust and back again.

Not sexual lust, but lust for my brokenness, my utter degradation.

The mention of making art with my flesh had my stomach souring, bile threatening to rise.

Durian wasted no time sinking his fangs into my neck, so brutally I feared he might accidentally behead me.

I screamed, and he clamped down harder, my body slumping. He held me up, moaning into my throat.

I was fucked in many ways, but chief among them was that if I were to never leave Durian’s sight, then I’d be unable to write to Rune. My piece of paper, pen, and daggers were all hidden in my slave accommodations.

Which meant Rune might come for me before I was ready—before I knew what Brennan was playing at. Which pieces were set to fall, and when? Where did I fit in?

Why in the hell was Brennan so smug? So unfazed by Durian’s dismissals and deteriorating mental stability?

As the venom overloaded my blood stream, my last coherent thought was utter panic.

All thoughts faded, and yet again, I found myself on the brink of certain death.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, Durian,” a familiar voice cut through the haze of blood loss and venom cloudiness.

Kole.

Durian slowly pulled back, turning to glare at Kole, who’d taken a seat near the empty head of the table.

“Humans are quite breakable, and I think we can all hear how faint her heart is beating. I wouldn’t want you to lose her again right after you got her back, by Lillian’s grace.” Kole was staring at me intently, and across from him, Brennan looked two seconds away from shattering the glass in his hand.

My head swam, flopping against Durian’s chest as I lost the ability to keep it raised. I was barely conscious of my feet being dragged across marble, my body manhandled to rest in Durian’s lap at the head of the table.

“So much interest in my fucking pet!” Durian yelled, the noise making me flinch even as my eyes fluttered, threatening to close for good. “She is mine! Lillian has given her to me!”

Lights and colors spun, and a euphoric emptiness clouded the edges of my consciousness.

“I don’t give a fuck whose dick you sucked to get her back for me, you stupid piece of shit,” Durian growled.

I was able to peek through my heavy eyelids, glimpsing the utter hatred in Brennan’s eyes.

“You only fixed your own mistake, evidence of your deafening inadequacy,” Durian continued. “You are nothing. The Book of Lillian doesn’t even mention your existence.”

“Where’d you find that last remaining copy of such a lost ancient book, Durian? I don’t recall you ever saying,” Brennan said coolly. “Strange there are no records of it in any library anywhere in the realm.”

Durian vibrated with fury, the poison of it leaking from his skin to mine.

“But none of that is important, is it?” Brennan said. “Shouldn’t we be discussing the uprisings among the poverty-stricken and hungry? The murder of a lady last night, with no leads or suspects? Or the growing problem of defecting soldiers?”

Durian gripped me so roughly I was scared he might actually break me.

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