Page 81 of Taken By Touch and Torment

“Why can’t I see anything? How do I know you’re real?” My voice was shaking as violently as my body, and Rune’s form went rigid, his fingers soothingly trailing through my hair.

“My shadows. I’m shielding us from Durian’s visions with my shadows until we’re far enough away. There’s a distance limit on his powers.”

Soon, the darkness cleared, and I peered down below at two men kneeling with raised arms in a rotted, crumbled wasteland that spanned an entire street. Brennan had shielded himself and Durian with his defensive magick.

They’d killed Rosalind like she was nothing. Durian had been aiming for a wolf.

I sobbed.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m trying considerably hard not to accidentally squeeze you to death,” Rune said, his voice strained with uncharacteristic raw emotion.

Other shadowbirds appeared around us, and I caught a glimpse of both Mason and Uriah on their own creatures. A wave of that same translucent red magick extended from another turned’s palm, as if patching up a protective border.

We were in Talomon.

I was in Rune’s arms.

I’d led Rosalind to slaughter.

“Can you tell me if you’re injured, please, Little Flame? I don’t want to push you. You don’t have to talk to me. Just tell me if you need emergency healing.”

I relaxed, just an inch, at his use of my pet name.

“I’m fine,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me. “Rune,” I whispered, sobbing again, reaching to feel the strange, silky skin of his shadows around my torso, his chiseled arms holding me against his chest.

At my touch, Rune trembled. “Hi, baby.” His inhales were uneven, his body vibrating with the exertion of his power. “I’m here. I’m here, and I love you. I’m here, and you’re safe. You will never be unsafe again.”

33

RUNE

Scarlett had somehow lost even more weight since I’d last seen her. When she’d faced down Brennan and Durian, she’d been impossibly tiny. Any more time with Durian, and I knew without a doubt she would’ve withered away, no matter how strong she was.

That was half the reason I exploded. Seeing what they’d done to her. The disgusting fucking bruises and fresh wounds all over her skin. Her barely covered body, despite it being the dead of winter. It seemed like she couldn’t even feel the cold, utterly detached from her physical existence more than she’d ever been before.

The other half of my reason for unleashing every last drop of my rage was the way Scarlett had reached for Durian. She’d been guaranteeing her survival if she were to be recaptured by playing into Durian’s delusion that she would rather be with him. Brennan’s delusion, too, clearly.

My Little Flame no longer trusted me to save her—to protect her from all monsters but the one who owned her perfect, beautiful heart.

She had every right to no longer believe in me.

But I would’ve sooner died than allowed Durian to say one more disgusting word to her. When he’d called her a useless whore, right after killing her friend before her eyes—I just fucking lost it. I saw nothing but oblivion and the deepest, hungriest fury. I wouldn’t have cared if I’d created a martyr out of Durian and killed him on the spot. I would’ve exhausted my power to break Brennan’s shield and obliterate them both, if I hadn’t known that he had backup on the way. I wasn’t about to risk Scarlett’s life by provoking the war’s first battle with her in the middle of it all. Scarlett’s rescue was always meant to be an extraction. A bloody one, but still. In and out, as quickly and efficiently as possible. Though I did enjoy killing as many born as I could on my way. If the kingdom inquired, I’d use the borns’ tried-and-true self-defense justification.

Fuck a ceasefire. I didn’t give a single shit when I knew that the most I’d get was a half-assed slap on the wrist from a spineless courtier. Valentin was on her own. She always had been. I wasn’t about to act with reckless abandon, but destroying an entire born camp on the border and effectively castrating Brennan and Kole in front of their men? Priceless. More than fair in this game of retribution and justice.

Scarlett had gone quiet shortly into the flight to Nyx, occasionally sobbing, but mostly just melting into me as I held her tight. Her small body was weaker and thinner in my hold, and it made me grind my teeth together with fury.

But my anger would be selfish from this moment forward, and I would keep as much of it to myself as possible. Scarlett needed the safety of the man who loved her. Not the wrath of her jealous God.

When we landed, I carefully helped Scarlett off Millie’s back. When she met my gaze, she flinched.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. You’re okay.”

I steadied her and then stepped away, giving her space as she took note of the other turned hopping off their shadowbirds. She looked up at the Gothic castle before us.

I fought the urge to touch her, to pull her back into my arms. She met my eyes again, and I grew predictably lost in those mesmerizing pools of blue. They sparkled, reflecting the witch lights illuminating the path to the castle’s rear entrance.

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