Page 21 of Taken By Touch and Torment

When Mason entered, I doled out a familiar coldness. She’d been working endlessly to overcompensate, to weasel her way into relaying messages to have an excuse to see me and prove her usefulness.

“The kingdom is sending Kole. He’ll arrive in Hatham in a few weeks,” she said.

“And no one has responded to any of our messages?”

“No.”

Kole Tefar was a known adversary of my clan. That was the bad news about the council’s chosen dignitary. He’d originally opposed the treaty that had ended the war, instated me as lord of Aristelle, and established the dry lands. But the good news was that there was a reason Kole had shut the fuck up about his bigotry at key moments during the war, allowing the treaty to pass and the kingdom to turn its attention away from Valentin.

A reason that involved lethally tall heels, the cruelest viper tongue, and a wicked backhand.

“I’ll write to Sadie,” I said.

Mason opened and then closed her mouth.

She would never apologize for what she did. Not when she still believed it was justified. And the frustrating truth was—her doubt had been justified. Given the information she’d had at her disposal, the truth of Scarlett’s nature, and the gravity of what was at stake, Mason had done what she’d been trained to do. She hadn’t once acted outside my orders. She hadn’t betrayed my loyalty.

Call it the weaker, human side of me, but I still wanted to punish her all the same.

“One of the most powerful turned clans in Ravenia has reached out. They wish to send their own dignitary to speak with us,” Mason said. “Their leader’s name is Kylo. They call themselves the Hekate clan.”

“He’d better watch his back on the way over,” I murmured. “This is a dangerous game we’re playing.”

“It’s justified,” Mason said, her familiar resoluteness admittedly soothing. “We will take care that this meeting occurs under the table. But even if we’re discovered, we need only to point to the kingdom’s initial act of aggression and subsequent silence. We are both rational powers merely acting in our own best interest.”

Annoyingly eloquent and well-reasoned as always. She could’ve at least said something uncharacteristically asinine to give me good reason to continue icing her out. Intelligent but inconsiderate—an irritating mix of traits.

Mason glanced down at my plans. She frowned but didn’t say anything.

“Out with it.”

She sighed. “We need to start working with the mortals on the coast sooner rather than later. We’re going to need numbers. Geographically, we have the upper hand. That needs to be leveraged as much as possible. In the sky and on land.”

I gestured for her to take a seat.

We did nothing but work until sundown. Not a word about Scarlett was mentioned, and that was best for both of us. I needed all the distraction from my obsessions I could get, and I soaked up these moments of uninterrupted focus.

Because when I found my opportunity to rescue my Little Flame, I knew it would be difficult to do anything else besides tend to her devotedly until she felt whole again.

10

SCARLETT

Rosalind lived in chambers fit for a princess. We’d managed to sneak to her rooms undetected. It was the middle of the night, and Rosalind knew this castle like the back of her hand. She’d made our journey feel like it was the harmless fun of children playing make-believe, her energy soothing my terror until it was a dull hum. She giggled the whole way as she checked each hall, hid me in alcoves, and ushered me forward when the coast was clear.

Stranger than her childlike awe in a castle full of demons were the instances I’d caught myself nearly smiling back at her. She’d painted the world in colors again, and I understood clearly why she was beloved among the slaves.

With Rosalind, I forgot about my own dismal reality. The illusions she spun were so innocent and beautiful that I couldn’t help but cling to them instead.

I reached for a billowing translucent curtain hanging from the ceiling, pulling the smooth pink fabric between my fingers before letting it go. Through a door on the far left side of her chambers I peeked into a beautifully feminine bedroom. I spotted a plush bed filled with blankets and decorative pillows, a canopy with tiny string lights draped above.

I recognized a white marble sculpture here in the main room, between decorative pillars and tall windows. The curvy, breathtaking figure was Heraphane, the first succubus.

Amid more billowing drapes and hanging lanterns in the shape of stars, was a cozy living area to our right. Nestled on a collection of cushions, a nude human man.

I jumped, casting a concerned glance at Rosalind when the man slowly opened his eyes like a sleepy kitten.

She was beaming at me, watching me appreciate her space. She quickly moved to the man, a gleeful bounce to her step.

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