Page 23 of Taken By Touch and Torment

The most important question was on my lips, ready to hit its mark. Are you going to tell anyone what I am?

But when I spoke, those weren’t the words that escaped.

“How does it make you feel? To know that true love is for other people and not for us?” I blurted, my heart pounding.

Rosalind’s surprise was brief. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and stretched out her arms like a cat before relaxing deeper into the corner of the couch.

“Such a human question, Scarlett,” she said with a smile that would’ve brought any man to his knees.

I scanned her face for evidence of heartbreak, of crushing loneliness. But despite all the horrors I could tell she’d been through, despite the knowledge of her own true nature, Rosalind hadn’t lost a glimmer of her lightness or radiance.

“All love is manipulation, darling. Succubi are just better at it.”

11

SCARLETT

Rosalind had sensed something off in the palace’s web of desires, so she’d ended our midnight chat before I could ask any of my burning, important questions. She’d snuck me back to my room and promised to fetch me again tonight.

In the grand dining hall, Durian yanked me into his lap. We sat at a long table with only born men, and I could read easily that they were all immensely powerful in both magick and rank.

The ceiling above was another depiction of the underworld, full of minor deities, bloodthirsty, beautiful creatures, and vampires serving their Dark Mother. Gold and crimson were the primary accents, the gold accents shimmering as they reflected witch light.

Durian’s cruel, cold hands held me tightly against him. Today I was in the barest of black lingerie sets, even as all the born were fully clothed and covered. My brutalized stomach was on full display.

“Didn’t your father ever teach you not to play with your food, Durian?” one of the men joked with an eerie smile, his eyes on my marks.

I fought the urge to puke all over their barely touched plates of food. Half because I feared what Durian and these men would do to me if I did, and half because I didn’t want it to splatter on Mairin, who was the table’s centerpiece. She was nude and trembling, her strawberry blonde hair in a halo of curls around her head.

A born man leaned forward and fed from her calf roughly. Her eyes fluttered before closing.

Durian traced over his name that he’d carved again last night. “Oh, she hasn’t earned playtime yet. We’re still working on basic training, aren’t we, pet?”

“Yes, Master,” I said, in the exact cadence he preferred. Demure, frightened, and subservient. But never too weak, never too broken. Then I wouldn’t be a fun toy to play with.

I sharply inhaled when he clawed into the wounds. I’d been wondering why Aunt Carol hadn’t healed them today.

Durian’s desires were getting easier and easier to understand. His most potent desire was always dominion over Valentin, and, eventually, over the entire realm. When it came to me, his desire lay in humiliation and pain.

He hadn’t even sexually assaulted me, at least not in a clearly sexual manner. Sex didn’t really interest him.

He violated me all the same. He especially enjoyed it when it was in front of all his men, whom he knew desired me.

On cue, Durian surveyed the table as he gripped me. “How about I let my pet off the leash for the night? The dutiful, rightful lords of Valentin deserve to taste the purest blood in the realm.” He grabbed my throat, and the men’s eyes went wild. “She would make a far more appetizing centerpiece.”

“Agreed,” Brennan said. He was Durian’s second in command. He appeared deceptively youthful and handsome, his evilness hidden under effortless charm. He raked a hand over his strong jaw and sculpted lips. His short chestnut hair was impeccably groomed, flashing wealth with his archaic, aristocratic clothing that matched the others.

I was certain that he would’ve harmed me in altogether different ways if Durian wasn’t so possessive.

I’d also come to learn that Durian’s possessiveness was rooted more in control than it was in giving a shit what his men did to me. He wanted to deprive me of all touch but his, all pleasure but the unwanted waves of rapture from his venom. He also enjoyed showing off what he’d stolen from Rune, building up my value in the eyes of his men by keeping me as pure as possible.

“You would service my men without question, wouldn’t you, pet?” he asked me.

I clenched my fists. “Yes, Master.” I tried not to squirm, not to react at all, as every cock at the table twitched with interest.

“How would Rune react to learning you’d become nothing more than a used-up whore for his enemies?”

I hesitated, and Durian’s nails opened up one of my cuts. I gasped, feeding off the heightened desire of the table until I didn’t feel the sting anymore. “It would crush him.”

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