Victory

  Victory (Mine To Take 6)

  Jacquelyn Frank

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2018 Jacquelyn Frank

  BIN: 08431-02724

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  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  315 N. Centre St.

  Martinsburg, WV 25404

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Margaret Riley

  Cover Artist: Angela Knight

  Adult Sexual Content

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  Table of Contents

  Victory (Mine To Take 6)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Epilogue

  Jacquelyn Frank

  Victory (Mine To Take 6)

  Jacquelyn Frank

  Melena Ni Coro is in the midst of deception and war. Her master and lover Valerian wars against his brother, while closer to home one of the women of his harem plots against Melena and puts her life on the line by betraying Valerian. Discovering the viper in their own nest is paramount.

  As for Valerian’s war against Vicktor, it can only go well if it ends in Vicktor’s death. It took a threat to his favorite’s life to ignite Valerian’s war against Vicktor. A war over a woman, but equally a war over ideals. The Jorku nation needs a fair leader.

  For Valerian, honor and loyalty are paramount. When his woman does not do as he commands he takes it hard. But Melena teaches Valerian there are different kinds of loyalty…

  Chapter One

  Melena Ni Coro walked into the women’s tent wearing a simple dress with a cloak that tied at her throat. Valerian Jorku, her lord and master, had very specifically dressed her, although he had not seen fit to tell her why. And it seemed a strange thing to dress so carefully just to walk across the camp and take a bath.

  But clearly Valerian had his reasons. Just as he had his reasons for sending her all the way across camp to bathe when they had a perfectly serviceable tub in the command tent in which they slept.

  The camp was a hive of activity as it scrambled to make itself mobile, but when Melena stepped into the harem tent the flap shut out all the hubbub outside.

  It was darker in the tent than it was out in the morning light. When she entered she gained the attention of all the women in the tent. There were a bevy of female servants serving the two women who sat regally on comfortable chairs, playing a game of cards. The servants were filling a great copper tub in the center of the room, bringing buckets of steaming water in.

  Hassa, the senior shisha, ruled over all with a firm grip. She was by nature a warm and pleasant woman, having welcomed Melena with open arms. Daria had been much colder and more aloof.

  One of these two women had betrayed Valerian. Melena and Valerian were inclined to believe it was the vain and self-important Daria who had done so. Every new distraction presented to Valerian meant more of his attention would be focused away from the senior shishas. When the day came that Valerian would finally be allowed to sire children, whoever was closest to him would most likely be the first to bear him a child.

  Valerian was forbidden children until Vicktor had a healthy son born to him. So far Vicktor’s harem had only produced female children… although there were two pregnant at that very moment, one ready to drop a child any day. The day Valerian was allowed to have children by Vicktor’s laws could be close at hand… closer still if Valerian moved against his brother… which was exactly what he was doing.

  Melena paused as she thought about it. The women of the harem had ways of preventing conception. They took a noxious draught once a month, and it prevented any children from taking root. She could stop taking the draught and could potentially provide Valerian with his first child.

  She shook her head. No. She would not bear a child in war. A child could be used against Valerian… a child would be a weakness. It was bad enough his women were a weakness. He felt responsible for them… as was right. But his women, the remainder of whom were still in the fortress, could be used against Valerian… or slaughtered to teach him a lesson. Valerian had already sent runners to beat any spies Vicktor might have in his camp to get the rest of the harem out before Victor became aware of his brother moving against him, but it would be a race. There was no telling when a spy would discover Valerian’s intentions and when they would race to warn Vicktor.

  It was important the army move quickly. The longer they took to reach the fortress the more time Vicktor had to raise another army to meet Valerian in the field of battle. Valerian wanted to get as close to Vicktor as he could before that happened. Ideally all the way to the fortress gates. But he was preparing for anything. He was leaving no avenue unexplored or unexploited, and he was making every effort to gain a following -- to win the attention and support of the nobles that controlled most of the remaining men Vicktor might call up into arms. It would come down to whose side the most powerful nobles chose. Valerian was hoping that they were tired of Vicktor’s iron and often insane rule. He was hoping they would rise up against him.

  Melena pushed all thoughts of war aside for the time being. She had closer concerns for the moment.

  A bath.

  Valerian had instructed her to simply take a bath in the women’s tent. He had not told her why, only that she was to do it. She had not questioned him because it had been a command and she did not question his commands. However she was curious. What was he hoping a bath could do?

  She walked over to the copper tub, nodding a greeting to both Hassa and Daria.

  “Melena. How good to see you,” Hassa greeted her warmly. “You have been so in demand by Valerian he has not let you up for air. I confess I am jealous. It has been some time since he has paid me such attention.”

  “He will grow tired of her eventually just as he has the rest of us,” Daria said meanly. She dismissed Melena from her attention by playing a card.

  “Don’t be jealous, Daria,” Hassa scolded. “Or be jealous, but be kind. There is no need for rudeness.”

  Daria sniffed, uninterested in making peace. She snapped her fingers and a servant filled her cup of wine.

  Melena ignored her cattiness. She had a chore to attend to and that was all. She gave Hassa a smile and reached down to run her fingers along the water of the tub. It was hot and comfortable. She reached for the tie at her throat and pulled it. A slave was immediately there to catch up the cloak, and another came to take the rest of her clothes.

  She had grown more used to being served in such ways. She had been a farm girl used to toiling and taking care of her family. No one had ever taken ca
re of her. Now Valerian saw to it she was catered to at almost every opportunity. But having come from nothing, she empathized with the slaves who had to silently obey every command and anticipate every need.

  When she was naked she stepped into the tub and stood in its center. It was a small tub, but large enough to sit in if she kept her knees drawn up. She was just about to do so when there was a clatter from the table where Hassa and Daria were playing cards. Hassa had knocked over her cup as she had surged suddenly to her feet. She rushed across the room and accosted Melena.

  “Where did you get that?” she demanded angrily. She reached toward Melena’s throat, and at the last minute it registered to Melena that Hassa was going for the collar around her neck. She caught Hassa’s hand in hers in the nick of time, struggling with the other woman a moment. “Thief!” Hassa cried. “When Valerian sees what you’ve done he will kill you!”

  “Valerian gave this to me!” Melena ground out as she struggled against the woman. She was stronger than she appeared, but Melena was a farm girl and Hassa had been spoiled in a harem for years.

  “He wouldn’t! That’s mine! I am his most senior shisha! I am to be the mother of his children when the time comes. I have earned that! I have earned that collar! What have you done? Nothing! You are not obedient. You do not serve him as you should. You do not honor him as he deserves. I have done all that for years. He promised to give that collar to the woman who came to know and love him best! I am that woman!”

  “Clearly not!” Melena said just before she shoved the other woman back onto her backside. Melena stepped out of the slippery wet tub and loomed over the prostrate Hassa. “It was you, wasn’t it? It was you who reported to Vicktor about the things I was saying. I thought it was Daria, but it was you.”

  Hassa’s eyes went wide. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said, but it was clear by her expression she knew exactly what Melena meant.

  “Why would I report to Vicktor?” Daria demanded. “I couldn’t care less about who was in Valerian’s bed or what they were saying. If Valerian is occupied elsewhere it only serves me. I would much rather be reading or sunning myself or stitching or playing cards… any number of things. I’m not particularly fond of the rigors of sex, although I would never say as much to Valerian.” Daria narrowed her eyes on Melena. “I tell you this only to save my neck. To have you believe my reasoning. You are not to repeat that to Valerian. He might sell me off, and then I would be without the comforts that come with my position here.”

  “Your words end with me,” Melena said. “I will honor the privacy of the harem… unlike Hassa. When Valerian hears what you have done… I cannot begin to imagine his reaction, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll kill you, and then you’ll not be able to tell him!” Hassa said, surging up to her feet and lunging for Melena. Melena easily sidestepped her headlong rush, and Hassa went sprawling onto the ground once again.

  This time she landed face-first, and Melena quickly placed a foot squarely in the center of her back and leaned her weight in to trap her.

  “Daria, fetch the guard outside and bring him here at once.”

  “But he is a man. Men are not allowed in this tent. And you are naked!”

  “It matters not. Just do it!”

  Daria raced to the flap of the tent and without dropping it shouted for a guard. Two guards surged into the tent at Daria’s urging and stood for a moment staring at the tableau in front of them -- the struggling blonde on the floor and the proud naked woman standing over her.

  “Take her,” Melena commanded. “Hold her captive somewhere. Anywhere but here.” She snapped her fingers at a serving girl who stood stock-still in shock watching what was happening with disbelieving eyes. No one laid hands on a shisha! No one!

  “Bring me my cloak.”

  The serving girl jumped to do as she was bid. Melena put the cloak on with haste, drawing it tightly closed in front of her bare body. Then she left the tent and went across the camp to Valerian’s command tent. She was barefoot and her lower legs were wet, but she had been in the cold before. Her feet crunched in the frozen mud, and she ducked quickly inside Valerian’s tent. He was, as usual, sitting at the table where he wrote his letters. He looked up when he heard the tent flap and felt the biting cold of the outside penetrate the warmer interior of the tent.

  He stood up as she approached him.

  “So. Who is it?” he asked.

  This brought her up short. How did he know? Then it occurred to her, finally, why he had instructed her to have a bath in the women’s quarters. It was so they could see the collar about her neck, and so he could gauge their reactions to it.

  “Hassa,” she said simply.

  Valerian looked surprised and then, for a moment, hurt. Betrayed. But he covered the emotion quickly. “I will see she is imprisoned for her crimes and so she can no longer report to my brother.”

  “I think she only did it out of jealousy, not because she wanted to betray you,” she said gently. “She only wanted to be rid of me so you would not forget about her.”

  “It is a betrayal nonetheless. She should have done everything to see to my comfort and happiness, even if that meant bringing another woman to me.”

  Melena tilted her head. “You ask a lot of your women. I don’t know that I would readily want to introduce another woman into our bed.”

  “You do not own me. I own you. Never forget that.”

  The words were like a slap in the face for Melena. True, on some level she had known she was owned by him, but that she owned no part of him… that hurt. He had just gotten through professing his love for her only a matter of hours ago. How could he love her without giving some of himself away? Without abandoning some of himself to her? Of course she didn’t want all of him… but at least some part of him? Wasn’t that what this collar meant? That she was special? That she meant more to him than any of his other women?

  But now she realized he expected her to live up to all his expectations, while not feeling the need to meet any of hers.

  What were her expectations? She had not asked herself that question until now. She had simply abandoned herself to all the things he was capable of making her feel. He had shown her so much… shown her how to derive gratification from things she never would have considered before. He had shown her how to reach a place that went beyond pain and beyond pleasure. He had taught her so much.

  What had she given him in return? Devotion? Yes. Obedience? Yes. But mostly she had believed she had given him a place to rest his head… a place where the worries of the day could be left behind and comfort could be found.

  Clearly she had not lived up to that idea. If she had he never would have said such a hurtful thing. He never would have felt it. It was clear by the power of those words that he believed every one of them.

  You don’t own me.

  “I must finish my bath,” she said numbly, turning to walk out of the tent.

  He caught her hand as she moved and slowly turned her back to face him.

  “What is it?” he asked, easily intuiting her upset. But if he could sense there was something wrong, why could he not figure out what it was on his own? His ability to read her had been uncanny. However, this was something he did not want to see. He did not want to know how much it hurt her that he was giving none of himself to this relationship.

  And there was nothing she could do about it.

  “I am only sad for Hassa,” she lied. “She has given you so much. She was simply afraid she had been doing so for so many years for nothing. That would be hard for me as well.”

  “I wonder that you can feel sympathy for her when she was almost the cause of your death.”

  She wanted to rail at him. To say he couldn’t understand because he had no empathy. Was he really so selfish? She suspected he was. She was left to realize she didn’t know him. She didn’t know him at all.

  No. It was only in this one thing she couldn’t understand him. Or maybe she could. H
e had grown up in a household where he had been the second son. The spare heir. Until recently he had believed his only course in life was to do as his brother desired. To support his rule no matter what. It had been his relationship with Melena that had changed that.

  Or… at least she liked to think it was. She was the only thing in his life that had changed. What else could it be?

  But as the second son he had always had to protect himself and his emotions. He could never let anyone see what he was truly feeling. By remaining a mystery no one could see him as a threat. They could only wonder… without ever being given proof of his real thoughts. Also, with little emotional attachment showing, he provided no weaknesses to be exploited. It was safe to say that the only attachment he had in the world was…

  His women. Yet even they were kept at a distance. He felt responsible for them… he trained them… but he never formed a close attachment with them.

  Did that mean he told all of them he loved them? She had thought she was special. That it had been her above all others he had treasured. Wasn’t that what the collar signified? Hassa’s reaction would mean that it did. She must have been shown the collar at some point in order to know its significance. Had he told each woman that if she were special enough she might one day earn the collar?

  Now she owned it… but what did that mean exactly? She had thought it made her treasured above all others. Was that really what it meant to him, or had she just been making assumptions?

  “My bath is cooling,” she said to him, tugging on her hand.

  “You will come back to me directly after,” he instructed her.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, but she knew she did not sound as devoted as she would have sounded even five minutes ago. He noticed the difference immediately.

  “I mean it, Melena. You will attend me immediately after your bath.”