Page 83 of Taken By Touch and Torment

“Anything you need, Scar. Just tell me. Rune and I bought seventeen different flavors of ice cream.”

“That many flavors exist?”

“Baby, there are hundreds of flavors of ice cream,” I drawled. “You don’t like any of those and I’ll get you a dozen more.”

Scarlett slowly left Snow’s hold and raised a brow at me. “Always so intense,” she said, wiping away her tears. “But for ice cream, I’ll allow it.”

I watched Scarlett’s face carefully, saw the exact moment when she grew uncomfortable. Her lips turned down, her eyes glassed over. A flip switched, and instead of focusing on us, she receded deep inside herself.

Snow and I exchanged a glance.

“Let’s get you inside,” I said softly.

Scarlett walked with us without another word, sniffling and teeth chattering.

In the back foyer, a few of my men stood guard. I didn’t miss the way Scarlett startled when she saw them. They quickly averted their eyes as we passed.

“Do you want to eat in my private dining room, Little Flame? Where we ate breakfast…” I trailed off, and Scarlett looked up at me, eyes rounded.

Where I’d fed her breakfast from my lap, was a more apt description.

“You could eat there alone, or with us,” I continued. “Or you could go straight to somewhere private. Whatever you want.”

Healer witches were quick to find us in the hall, and Scarlett flinched when she saw them, too. She came to a sudden halt, leaning closer to me as she stared at the female witch wearing all black. I wondered if this healer reminded her of one of the aunts we’d learned about from Isabella. It was likely they wore all black in reverence for Lillian, just as their predecessors did.

The witches kept their features neutral but warm-leaning.

The woman in black spoke up. “We’re ready whenever you are,” she said to me.

“Whenever she is,” I corrected. I drew Scarlett’s eyes to mine. “Would you rather be healed before or after you?—”

I stopped myself. Scarlett looked up at me in utter overwhelm, in and out of dissociation. I wanted her to know she had agency, that everything was her choice. But I could see that she was in no state of mind to decide what was best for herself.

“Snow, could you have attendants bring food to my chambers?” When Snow nodded, I focused on the witches. “Tarwin, you’re dismissed for the night. Belise, you can come with us.”

Belise, being thin, male, and in bright magenta and several golden bracelets, was far less likely to subconsciously trigger Scarlett’s memories of the wretched slave handlers.

“Is this okay, Scarlett?” I asked.

She nodded, noticeably more at ease when Tarwin left. And when she realized she didn’t have to make any decisions right now.

In the entrance hall, Scarlett scanned each piece of art, each sculpture. I moved at her pace, gently guiding her toward the stairs.

After a few steps, she said quietly, “There wasn’t a lot of art in that place.” She sighed. “And the art that was there was… garish. Repetitive. Soulless. I think that says something.”

Fuck, I’d missed her.

“I think that says something, too, Little Flame.”

34

SCARLETT

“Can you please leave?” I asked Rune.

He paused as he handed me a glass of water, his fingers brushing mine. He showed no disappointment, no anger or hurt, even as I scanned his features for any negative reaction.

Belise, the healer witch, was setting out his tonics and salves as I lay on the carpet in Rune’s living room in his private chambers. He radiated a soft, comforting green witch energy, ruled by steadiness of the earth and her natural remedies. I was glad Rune sent the other witch away. Even though I knew she wasn’t an aunt, she reminded me of a younger Aunt Carol. I couldn’t help but recoil, remembering all the times I’d been healed only to be cut into again hours later.

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