Page 40 of Taken By Touch and Torment

I barely felt the second blow of leather and spikes. My body was as numb and hollow as my brain.

“Again.”

Warm liquid oozed down my legs. Fights broke out instantly. Lana’s assault continued through it all until I was covered in a river of blood. I fell in a vat of the crimson ooze, drowned in it. I saw nothing but flowing red, burning shame.

I barely registered Harley lifting my head up by my hair, spitting in my face. One slave hit my right cheek, another my left. They were all beating me now, egged on by the crazed vampires. Someone must’ve been given a blade, because I felt slicing, saw Durian’s face looming over me from memories that assaulted my mind’s eye.

The room turned chaotic, the slaves themselves turning on each other. Lana hit Harley across the cheekbone with a mean backhand. Cassius pulled Lana away, and the vampires were screaming at them all to keep hurting me. The humans were covered in my blood, splattering it on each other as they fought.

Guards struggled against vampires in bloodlust. Humans were thrown at the crowd, used as distraction from me and my addictive blood.

Everything had backfired. All I’d done—all I’d ever done—was make everything about me. I knew some of these slaves wouldn’t survive, not when they’d been thrown to the bloodlust-stricken born.

And it was my fault. In my attempts to pull attention away from the other humans and play with the court’s desires, I’d only created an unquenchable wave of lust that put everyone except me at risk. Slaves like Harley had every reason to hate me. I would survive, and they would be tossed away as if they’d never meant anything to the world at all.

The room was a blur of movement, and there was only one pair of eyes I looked for. Warm brown, framed by flawless skin and full blonde curls. Rosalind was behind the chaotic tangle of vampires, by a tall window with crimson drapes and a large potted fern. She was staring at me, confusion, anger, and concern breaking through her usually light and impenetrable features. It was strange to see her frown.

A figure eclipsed my view. Tall with muscles forged into weapons, creeping shadow tattoos thrumming with potency. His eyes were ice-cold, roaming over my body as his mouth twisted with disgust.

He opened his mouth, and Rune finally spoke.

“You are the most pathetic, useless human I have ever wasted my time on. You deserve everything you’ve gotten. You belong here.”

My vision blurred and tunneled. His words were more cutting than any of his tools of torture.

He laughed. “I’m glad you’re with them. Look at you. Ruined. Used. Worthless.”

His voice used to be what I craved above all others. I’d clung to his every beautiful word, dissected his achingly gorgeous sentences. He had once been a lifeline, the first person to pull me out of the empty place and make me feel safe.

The first man to truly see me—all of me—and love every facet.

Covered in blood, the world slipping further and further down a long, onyx tunnel, I opened my mouth.

“I still loved you even when you were cutting my fingers off,” I whispered. Lights flickered, highlighting the sharp edges of Rune’s cruel beauty. “I still loved you when you bled me dry. I still loved you when your hands were locked around my throat, and you were squeezing the life out of me.”

My body was slick with blood, my tears staining my cheeks. My surroundings were spinning colors and blotches of black. The only thing I could see clearly was Rune and his hatred.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t muster the strength.

“You’re dead to me.”

He spoke the words for me. I only nodded in agreement.

I blinked, and the world tilted.

“Acting out, pet?” a different voice asked, laced with dry humor.

I fought my heavy eyelids, my gaze trained on Durian. His slender fingers trailed down my cheek. His cool blond hair was tucked behind his ears, and his arms were rigid as he held me against his chest.

I found myself grateful Durian was here, that he was carrying me through the fray. In his arms, I was untouchable. When he was near, Rune couldn’t continue to shatter me.

“Do you see now why she cannot be fed from by anyone but me?” Durian hissed at Brennan, whose eyes burned into mine as I struggled to remain conscious. “She’s a rare jewel. My rare jewel. I am not surprised in the least that chaos ensued the moment she left my sight. The poor little lamb needs her Master.”

He stared down at me. When he bent his head, I nearly thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, his tongue found a trail of blood on my chest, following it to a wound and lightly sucking.

My eyes fluttered, soon overcome by the sweet waves of rapture that swallowed all agony.

“What do we say, pet?”

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