Page 67 of Taken By Touch and Torment

My vision blurred. I lifted my ass in the air. Durian caned my flesh until it was raw, and my brain was melted by venom and endorphins.

He shoved me back down, just a heap of skin and bones and dreams and stars, a weeping wound spread wide for demented vampires to covet and devour.

Durian turned me over and straddled me.

I fought to stay here, for him, always for him—the ruler of my dreams, no matter how often this psychopath infected me with nightmares.

Durian gripped my throat, clenching around the locked collar that would never make me his.

“Who do you live for?”

Myself. My friends. Lumina. The stolen humans whose screams echoed through the room.

Rune.

“You, Master.”

I saw a field of stars, heard the collected songs of Frida and Friends, that twangy fiddle and haunting voice, the sound of stomping and clapping. Love. That was what bloomed in my chest, for the briefest of moments, underneath my spitting anger, twisting pain, and waves of venomous rapture.

“Who do you belong to?”

The cosmos. Myself.

Rune.

“You, Master.”

Durian grabbed my right breast, and his other hand cupped my pussy. They were emotionless acts, done only to violate me, to stake his ownership in front of a crowd of vampires who wanted me more than they wanted any of the slaves they currently brutalized.

“Whose body is this?”

Mine. It’s fucking mine.

I stayed limp, expressionless. I fought dissociation and stayed present out of spite. He wanted me broken, and I refused to break.

I had hope now. Blinding, unkillable hope.

“Yours, Master.”

I acted like he’d won. I used his perverse, sadistic desire and spun it right back around to use against him. Behind my eyelids, I saw visions of violence. Durian’s skin ruined with marks. Durian’s blood splattered on the floor. Durian’s shocked face twisted with pain.

He stood as if it was of his own accord and not mine. He yanked me up and pulled me close, my back against his chest and his hand around my neck.

“Aunt Carol,” he called. She approached. “Clean her up. Spiritually and physically. If she behaves, perhaps she can earn back her ability to entertain our guest and the court.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

And I knew she meant it, her smile nothing short of evil.

Kole watched us carefully, and I could sense his disappointment in Durian’s words—the insinuation that I might not be available to him for a while.

I slipped through this crack of vulnerability and spoke to his mind.

You have the power to bring her back. Durian and the born are beholden to you. Here, you are the most valuable man in the room. They will bend to your will, just as you’ve always deserved. Scarlett is clearly a slave in this place, and her true desires are obscured. She wants you, a distinguished man of the great kingdom, not these lowlife islanders. She wants to dominate you like you’ve never been dominated before. Just look at the wicked way she longs for you. That’s why Durian is so angry…

From Durian’s grip, I stared at Kole for two seconds. It was more than enough. Then I looked for Brennan, delighted by his blatant display of jealousy and disgust. His lip was curled, his hazel eyes burning.

Durian shoved me at Aunt Carol, who handled me roughly as she and the guards took me away.

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