Page 30 of Taken By Touch and Torment

“As in, they might see that I’m a succubus?”

“They could come to suspect it, eventually, or if it’s suggested to them by a third party. They won’t see through you completely unless you’re extremely weak, which is rare—that would require you to have not fed off desire for an extraordinarily long period, or exhausted your powers without any replacement energy. Tears in our glamour will usually only evoke suspicion, distrust, or general dislike without the mark understanding why. They will see through our illusion, our allure. They will become closed off to influence, the spell broken. This happens to us all the time—I’m sure you can think of plenty of examples of those who have become resistant to your influence, who don’t care for you.”

I could think of plenty, but I didn’t need to vocalize that.

“Well, that’s not ordinarily dangerous. But if you’re in the middle of some kind of big play—with someone powerful, perhaps—it could create a very sticky situation.”

I nodded. I shut out thoughts of Rune before they could root.

“You must mirror their inner voice. You must only wield desires that they truly harbor, and for the love of our Dark Mother, you must ensure you are strong enough to wield them. How much power you need to exert influence is dependent on how much the mark truly desires what you wish to happen. And that requires knowing, deeply knowing, your mark’s mind. Especially a forceful one.” She regarded me pointedly, and I knew she was warning me to be careful with Durian.

“Thank you,” I said. I felt so torn—between anger and gratitude, hatred and hope. But gods above, I was here. I was still alive. I wasn’t broken.

I was fighting. I thought of Snow and my other friends, and my small spark of hope flickered. Maybe I could do more than survive and escape the palace. What if I could use my manipulative, beautiful weapons of destruction to enact vengeance for every act of brutality against my body and soul?

The parts of myself that had remained opaque and mysterious my whole life had finally been illuminated. I understood now how I’d been unconsciously pulling the strings for years—why sometimes an entire room mirrored my emotions, and other times people had been entirely repulsed by me. It was more than mere jealousy and attraction. I was the wolf caught in the henhouse; I was the spider casting inescapable webs.

Rosalind set her drink down and popped a small pastry in her mouth. “Your introductory lesson at the School of Rosalind has concluded.” She eyed me as she chewed and then swallowed. “Your turn.”

I fiddled with the hem of my black robe. I wondered if she was going to ask about him.

“What do you want to know?”

She studied me. “I want to know who you are.”

“As would I,” I whispered.

I made a quick calculation: Rosalind was freely helping me, and I knew that so far, she had been nothing but truthful. I also couldn’t imagine a way that anything I said about my past could be used against me.

I relaxed. “I thought I was human until a few days before I was kidnapped by Liza and given to Durian.”

Rosalind leaned in. “Because you were Rune’s.”

I winced, and Rosalind didn’t miss the move. “I wasn’t—it was more—” I shook my head. It didn’t matter. There was no need to correct her. Two weeks ago, I would’ve said that Rune felt like the other half of my soul—always fated to reunite with me in any lifetime, in any body, even when we were merely specks of stardust up in the great expanse of the cosmos.

But I knew the truth now, what the old village witch Beatrice had warned me about before I left Crescent Haven. Falling in love had only made me feel emptier and lonelier than I’d ever thought possible.

“Yes, I was taken because I was Rune’s,” I managed through the sharp stabs of my crumpled heart.

“Who did you think you were?” Rosalind asked. Her eyes were probing, her voice soft.

I was grateful she’d left the subject of Rune alone. “I thought I was a human from some nowhere village. I was raised by human parents—someone left me at Helia’s feet in the local temple. I didn’t know that I wasn’t my parents’ child by blood. I didn’t know I wasn’t human. My friend—” I faltered, Snow’s warm, understanding face bringing tears to my eyes. “She helped me understand that I’d been using my powers instinctively for years, but I’ve never truly been in control. They’ve ruled me more than I’ve ruled them. And that’s why I need your help. I want my last remaining days to matter.”

Rosalind’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t speak at first. She took a sip of her drink, gazing at the fireplace and the pink roses and vines that hung off the white mantel above. It looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

Then, in a flash, her features returned to their graceful nonchalance.

“You discovered your nature, but you don’t know anything about your parentage?”

I shook my head, frowning. “Not a clue.” Nor had I even had the time to consider it. Did it matter? Whoever my biological parents were, they clearly wanted nothing to do with me. But why hadn’t they just killed me? Why put me in Crescent Haven, of all places?

As much as it pained me to think about it, I had to admit that I understood why Rune would think I was a plant. It was what made the most sense, given Crescent Haven was Rune’s birthplace. But no one had ever told me what I was. If I’d been a hidden weapon, then my handler had been incompetent at best.

I was interrupted from my spinning thoughts by the sound of Rosalind’s voice. She was back to looking uncharacteristically pensive.

“Do you think I truly understand you, now that I know the basic facts about your life story, Scarlett?”

My answer was quick. “No.”

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