Page 49 of Taken By Touch and Torment

“If the standard of living of the born is what you were truly concerned with,” Mason said coldly. “Then maybe you and your friends should consider donating your exorbitant amounts of wealth to poverty relief efforts. Or educational programs. Or, even easier, simply stop burning down blood cafés.”

Brennan too had been glancing at me every once in a while, and now I watched his lip curl, staring at Mason with unabashed hatred.

“The born in Aristelle are suffering because they still refuse to abide by the law, choosing to live lives of crime and poor impulse control over building lasting success as valuable members of society. Instead of helping your people, you have merely profited off their misplaced anger by encouraging them to sacrifice themselves in futile acts of violence.”

Uriah seemed satisfied with Mason’s words. Rune merely lifted a brow in thinly veiled amusement at the born’s amassing anger.

And I… I was still reeling. I swallowed, taking one deep breath after another.

Rune still loved me.

Rune still loved me.

Rune. Still. Loved. Me.

It didn’t feel real. Maybe it wasn’t. I was in the process of losing my sanity, after all—plagued by visions and memories that didn’t make sense, yet I perceived as solidly as my current lived experience.

How was it possible for Rune to feel anything other than hatred? Nothing had changed. I was still a succubus. He still didn’t know the truth of my innocence.

My magick vibrated in my blood, whispering for me to lean back into my power. To stop being a victim, and use the only advantages at my disposal to figure out what the fuck was going on.

“Let us speak plainly, brother,” Durian said to Kole, the term of endearment putting the turned side of the table on edge immediately. “What has happened in Valentin goes against the world’s natural order. It goes against the Dark Mother’s will. We were not meant to feed in moderation, with strict stipulations, like docile house pets. Children of Lillian were born to rule. You see what is happening in your own land—the humans that have blasphemed vampirism, unnaturally claiming immortality for themselves in order to overthrow the king, the council, and his ordained lords and ladies. Who do you think inspired such a treasonous, chaotic state of the world?”

Kole sighed. “I must admit, I am sympathetic to this logic.”

I didn’t miss the way the witch’s green eyes went reptilian, narrow and cold, as they landed on Kole. Nor did I miss the way Kole swallowed when he met her gaze, his features twisting in a new direction—back toward neutrality.

“However, it is not up to you and your followers to decide what is best for Valentin, nor the rest of Ravenia. Rune was ordained as this territory’s lord, and as it stands, acts against him are still acts against the kingdom.” Kole met Durian’s eyes. “You say you have not directly given orders to commit acts of terror against the mortals and turned, but everyone at this table knows that is a half-truth. Regardless of your intentional wording and clever puppeteering, you have directly initiated the closing of borders and have amassed an army that is currently maintaining that border and provoking more violence. Your religious movement has sowed seeds of chaos, but you have also made your own clear directives as if you are your own state power.”

“Every direct action we have undertaken has been out of self-defense,” Brennan said. “Lillian called us to protect the born. Our people were left without any semblance of power in this city gifted to us by Lillian herself thousands of years ago.”

This was part of Durian’s religious ethos—that Valentin was a holy land gifted to powerful born bloodlines by Lillian herself. I recognized it from a passage in his holy book, the Book of Lillian, the aunts had read us before one of our prayers. My mind churned and churned, making sense of the subtext of each word. I’d been thrown in the deep end of this political landscape head first.

I straightened, eyes flitting from vampire to vampire.

Here I sat—drowning in self-hatred, confusion, agony, and blinding, all-consuming love—at a meeting that I now understood could not only change the trajectory of my life but also the lives of everyone I’d ever known. Snow, Penn, and the witches, Jaxon, Reggie and the other turned who’d been kind to me, every mortal on this island and perhaps the ones beyond it.

I shoved all other thoughts away other than my own usefulness, my utility for the good of others. And the moment I did, something inside me loosened, the shroud of futile, selfish self-pity dissipating. The last time I’d tried to help, I’d failed. I understood that.

But all I could do now was either give up, or try to do better. All I could do was honor the humans who’d been slain by my actions.

“I would also be remiss if I didn’t address the firebird in the room,” Kole said. His face fell into something severe, losing the friendliness he’d been employing to soften tensions. “It would appear that our lines of communication with Rune and his clan have been compromised. This meeting is not as it was originally planned. The council feels as though we have been intentionally manipulated, used as pawns in Valentin’s current conflicts. This is an egregious act of treason, especially in the face of what everyone at this table clearly already understands about our own state of affairs.”

I quickly processed what I’d heard. The born must’ve employed spies to change the terms of this meeting, to pit the kingdom against the turned.

Durian was silent, as were his men.

I focused on Kole, reading what the rest of the table couldn’t. I traced the edges of his desires, felt where they were rigid and where they were malleable. My teeth ground, anger and disbelief at what I uncovered.

Kole was only pretending to hear out the turned, to slap Durian on the wrist for the borns’ behavior. And the turned had no idea—I could read it from them, their hope that they were making progress, their desire for Kole to put Durian in his place. They didn’t realize how bound they were by Kole’s opposing desires. The single place of wiggle room, strangely enough, was in the thread of desire between Kole and the brunette witch. Everything else leaned heavily toward the born, an unspoken vendetta closing up his ability to be swayed.

“As Valentin’s ruler,” Rune said. “I ask what the kingdom plans to do about this egregious act of treason. Considering it doesn’t take a genius to connect this act to whom it most benefited.”

“Not to mention the clear indications we are heading into another civil war,” Mason said, her features as hard and immovable as ever.

She no longer regarded me with suspicion. It was surprisingly the faintest tinges of guilt I tasted on my tongue when she glanced my way.

Lord Nereus began to defend the born again, but Kole raised his hand to silence the table.

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