His to Save (Mastering Melody Book 3) Read online

  His to Save

  Mastering Melody, Book 3

  Talia Zane

  His to Save ©2016 by Talia Zane

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover from Designs by Dana

  eBook Edition

  First Edition: May 2016

  Blurb

  Resigned to my fate, I didn’t expect anyone to rescue me.

  When plans made go wrong, I’m auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  Would this new man free me, keep me locked in a cage with no escape forever, or teach me a lesson I’ll never forget?

  Final book of three. Read His to Use and His to Take first.

  1

  A monster grew inside me.

  Twelve weeks along with Frans’ child and the morning sickness hadn’t let up yet.

  It didn’t matter that I’d gotten sick twice today already. My throat burned, my stomach roiling for the third time, and I pushed desperately against Frans’ thighs to indicate he needed to release me from my crouched position between his legs.

  By now, though, he was used to it, and let me go with a disgusted sigh, pulling my hair until his cock popped out of my mouth before handing me the wastebasket to barf into.

  As usual, he gave me a cloth to wipe my mouth with when I was done, before handing me a little strip of something mint that melted on my tongue to freshen my breath.

  When he shifted, presumably to move me back into position, it took all I had not to speak out or sob with pure exhaustion. If I didn’t spend my time getting sick, it was getting fucked by him or his brothers, being toyed with by his sisters or helping out with the daily chores of the house. From sun up to sun down, I was serving someone by either working or fucking.

  Because of that, I figured sleep would come easy, but it eluded me regularly. Forced to lay in bed beside Frans every night no matter who used me that day, I would cry silently into the pillow, missing Tiaan and Rohan with every breath.

  I had no idea how they both were and without them, it felt like all the color in my life and my will to live had been sucked right out of me. Rohan’s siblings pretended he didn’t exist and prohibited anyone, even the guards, and other women, from talking to me.

  If I pissed him off, he would cuff my ankle and use a short chain to keep me near the bed yet unable to actually lay on it, with only a bucket for me to relieve myself. If I weren’t pregnant, I had no doubt he would starve me to prove his point sometimes, and I’d begun to wish for death.

  Anything would be better than my life here now, especially when he grabbed my hair while gripping his cock with his other hand, rubbing the tip along my lips with a groan. I waited for his cruel yank of my hair — his hard shove into my throat, his choking and gagging me as he fucked my mouth with little regard for my condition — but today it didn’t come.

  He let go with another sound of contempt, shoving himself back into his pants as he said, “Go back to the room and rest. We have a guest later, and I’ll need you ready to play with him.”

  Even though I hated the idea of it without even knowing specifics, he didn’t need to tell me twice. I crawled out from under the desk, made my way to the door in that position as he liked, and once outside in the hallway, stood and fled toward the bedroom without a backward glance.

  Shortly before dinner, Frans woke me up from my much-needed nap by yanking me from the bed. After cuffing my hands behind my back, he placed a gag into my mouth and secured it around my head before shoving a hood down over my face, effectively blinding me. Then he put a collar around my neck, the distinct sound of a chain being clipped on making me cringe on the inside. I hated being treated like a dog going for a walk.

  He tugged me along through the quiet house, and I had a bad feeling the whole way. He hadn’t seemed pleased about the guest earlier and his anger amplified with each step, his pull on the chain almost set at a punishing pace threatening to make me trip.

  All the sudden he stopped walking as the air surrounding us chilled considerably, someone picking me up and tossing me over their shoulder, but only for a few seconds.

  The person carrying me placed me front down on something flat and hard, the collar around my neck turned until the click of a chain and a pull on it alerted me to the fact they’ve immobilized my head to something above me with it. My hands are kept cuffed, but retied and locked underneath whatever I’m laying on, and my legs are spread, my ankles tied to prevent them from moving.

  After a strap is placed across my upper body to keep me immobile, a cold voice I’d never heard from spoke on my left, my whole body going rigid at his question. “This is the woman Rohan wrote me about?”

  Frans' voice was hushed and irritated. “Yes. I am surprised to hear he told you about her. She is a mere breeding slave, nothing more.”

  A beat of silence, no doubt thinking about how full of shit Frans was just like I was thinking, followed by the strange man’s voice again. “She is pregnant now?”

  “Yes, three months with my child, so you must be careful with her.”

  “Of course. Anything else?”

  “Not necessary. You’re aware of the rules.” Frans cold hand came to rest on my back, and a needle pricked my neck at the same time he sighed with feigned concern. “She hasn’t felt well lately, so this will relieve her nausea and help her relax.”

  “As long as she isn’t too relaxed.” I decided I hated this man who would use me while tied up like this in my current state as much as I hated Frans and it didn’t lessen even when he spoke with regret. “I’m sorry to have missed Rohan. It isn’t like him to forget my planned visit.”

  “My fault, I’m afraid. After father’s death, he needed something to keep him occupied. They were close, as you know.”

  “Yes. I wish I had known, I would have visited sooner.”

  Frans skimmed his hand down my back, slapped my ass, and chuckled at my muffled whimper. “Well, I will let him know you stopped by and had a bit of fun in his place.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door shut a few seconds later, and my whole body tightened at the sound of the man undressing. Then, two large, hot hands came to rest on my hips before his clean scent surrounded me, his whole body covering the back of mine and his hard cock resting against the crack of my ass.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered close to my ear, perhaps louder than he should for effect, and then he lowered it to whisper something in a warm tone that shocked me. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here to save you.”

  When I sobbed around the gag, he thrust against me again and groaned loudly before continuing to talk fast and low. “Have to have sex, we both know that, but Rohan warned me this might happen. Play your part, girl.”

  I didn’t know whether to trust him, even if he sounded sincere because all my hope had fled a while ago. He moved away without another word and shoved his hand roughly between my legs, two fingers sinking into my wet pussy, moaning his approval as the pad of his thumb teased my clit.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” His touch elicited a true desire I hadn’t felt since my last time with Rohan and when I moved into his touch, he laughed softly before removing his hand. “I’m i
mpatient too, baby. No need to wait with your body begging for it, is there?”

  Whatever Frans shot into my neck began to work then, the sudden floating feeling enhancing the man’s touch on my skin, and the nerve endings inside me made me scream when he pushed his dick in slowly.

  Only it went from pleasure to pain in an instant, the man pulling out at the sudden rush of fluid from between my legs, his shout of alarm cutting off as I passed out from the excruciating pain.

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. Nothing hurt and I wanted it to stay that way.

  Also, for the first time in three months, I didn’t have the urge to throw up, which meant I lost the baby during whatever happened.

  Little time to enjoy the deep knowledge of Frans being thwarted as voices intruded in my peace.

  Frans’ voice loud and irate, arguing with the man I recognized at the doctor who impregnated me the first time with Rohan’s child, and later kept track of my ovulation so Frans could, as he put it, ‘do it the right way.’

  I didn’t know what they were saying because they were both smart enough to speak in their native language. Even after being there a while, I didn’t know much beyond basic words picked up here and there when I could gather the meanings.

  Whatever had Frans so upset, I knew nothing good would come of this. He wasn’t the type of man who liked having his plans go wrong, that much I learned about him, and my fear grew into pure terror the more his voice raised after every time the doctor spoke.

  My heart sped up. At the sound of increased beeping and their sudden silence, I knew they were now aware of my consciousness. I waited for someone to say something, to let me know they knew I was awake, but there was only the sound of a closing door.

  They left me alone and even then I didn’t open my eyes because I knew there was nowhere to go.

  Instead, I went back to sleep and not for the first time, hoped I wouldn’t wake again.

  “Wake up.” A tired, rude woman’s voice snapped through the darkness as she tapped my cheek. “You must eat.”

  I turned my face away from the sensation, keeping my eyes shut while muttering, “No. Go away.”

  Another slap, a bit harder this time, and the woman gripped my chin in her hand when I moaned. “You are not going to die, no matter how much you wish it. Frans will not have it. Open your eyes, girl, and eat some food before I am forced to use crueler methods.”

  Forcing my eyelids to lift, the familiar face of a woman — Ida — from the kitchen scowled down at me from where she bent over the bed.

  Her expression didn’t change as she nodded once I followed her directions. She rearranged my pillows until I sat up enough to eat, and then took a seat while grabbing the bowl from the table beside the bed.

  The whole time she fed me the oatmeal I now hated with a passion she didn’t say a word, and there wasn’t anything for me to say either.

  I spent the time wondering what had happened to me. A random miscarriage? Or had that man done something to me? And what had become of the man who claimed to have come to save me?

  Obviously, he hadn’t saved me; a brief glance around the room around the bed assured me that was the case.

  It’s a good thing I hadn’t believed him then because I would’ve felt disappointed at him having failed.

  Instead, the disappointment was due to not having died and fearing the torture with Frans would start all over again, including another awful pregnancy.

  But as she finished up and set the bowl on the table, she cleared my mind of all notions with a cluck of her tongue and a sigh of relief as she said, “Frans will be happy to know you are eating. That means he can auction you the week after next as planned.”

  I wish her statement made me feel relief, especially at knowing Frans was getting rid of me, but in truth, there was nothing except numbness.

  Because being sold meant going to someone different and not knowing what would happen next, a future I feared as I should’ve from the beginning.

  They kept me in that room for another thirteen days, doing nothing more than feeding me three times a day before leaving me to my own company, leaving me to believe I would go mad from the boredom.

  When the lady returned the final evening, she led me to a bathroom and let me take a shower. After, she dressed my hair, put on some makeup, and placed cuffs around my ankles and wrist, securing the latter together behind my back.

  Around my neck, she put one of those tall, uncomfortable collars meant to keep me in perfect posture with my chin tilted slightly up.

  Finally, when my eyes were covered, she attached a leash to the ring on the collar and led me out of the bathroom toward the event meant to land me a new owner.

  I heard the quiet murmurs of people upon stepping into the room, and the woman continued for another few moments before stopping, placing me in a spot and turning me a specific way. Taking off the leash, she left me standing there alone, and at heat bearing down on me, I assumed she’d placed me under a light for viewing.

  Although I thought Frans would be the one to auction me, in the end, it was the woman I heard describing me to the audience. My height, weight, and medical information were given, along with my known sexual history and my breeding status, which she pronounced ‘likely’ as I had managed to give birth once already.

  The bidding began after that, and if I thought there would be talking giving me a hint as to my new owner, I was wrong. She said numbers that continued to go up and up, but all the bids were silent, and even as used to this life as I was by now, the idea of being sold like an animal still astounded me. No caring for the fact I was a human like them and deserved freedom.

  By the time she declared me sold, I merely hoped for someone kinder than Frans because I figured it wasn’t asking for too much as someone with a firm grip led me away.

  Minutes later, the cold breeze tightened my nipples, and someone guided me up a small incline.

  I wanted to cry when made to get on my knees and duck my head as they shoved me into a cramped space, yet the tears wouldn’t come. When I couldn’t move from the crouched position, my head resting on the hard bottom of what I knew to be a cage while the collar cut into my neck, I still couldn’t shed a tear because I had none left.

  They were going to transport me somewhere, which meant away from Rohan and Tiaan if they even remained living as Frans promised they were, and there wasn’t much chance I would see them again.

  So when the sound of the lock on the cage clicked, I let the continuous roll of the vehicle lull me into sleep, because my emotions were the one thing nobody would ever get from me again.

  2

  “She has beautiful skin.”

  “I wonder if she has eyes to match.”

  “I don’t understand what he wanted with another one. He always said we were more than enough.”

  Different women’s words in varying pitches whispered through the lifting veil of sleep and when I finally managed to open my eyes, six set of eyes widened simultaneously as the women gawked down at me.

  “Yes,” one recovered quickly enough to comment, leaning in close to my face to peer into my eyes with a beaming smile. “Her eyes go well with her skin. Perhaps that is why he was taken with her.”

  “Layla, back away before you scare her.”

  Layla laughed lightly, lifting a hand to my forehead to brush hair out of my face, and winked at me. “She isn’t scared, Mia, just confused. I can tell these things.”

  Hearing them speak English brought me little comfort since the vague accent told me it wasn’t likely we were in the States. Not knowing whether they were friendly or not, I remained silent, staring up at them with a blank expression to mask my thoughts.

  Then, Layla poked a finger into her chest while stepping back, flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder with another bright smile, her equally dark eyes crinkling at the corners. “I am Layla.”

  She points to a woman with equally dark features, this one being the same woman who told her to
back away from me. “She is Mia, my twin.”

  In fact, as she went around the circle of women — the other four being Kasha, Greta, Jesmine, and Lira — they all sported dark hair and dark eyes, but unlike the twins, I would be easily able to tell them apart. They were all also wearing some lovely and soft-looking material wrapped around their bodies.

  “Tell us your name.” Layla is the one to request this, leaving no doubt in my mind she was the leader of the women.

  And because there was no doubt this is where I would be living now, I decided to answer because refusing would be pointless. “Melody.”

  Weird to say my name because the only person who had cared in over a year had been Rohan and the sudden thought of him caused tears to prick at the corner of my eyes.

  “Melody is a lovely name.” She stepped forward again and rested an hand on my bare shoulder, lifting the blankets and tossing them to the side before holding out her hand for me to take. “Perhaps we should have you bathe and get something to wear, then feed you so you will have more energy.”

  I placed my hand in hers and rose from the bed. And although the others didn’t pointedly look away from my nudity, they didn’t stare either.

  Layla led me out of the room first and the rest of them flanked behind us, which made me feel exposed as well as protected simultaneously.

  Used to staring at the floor when walking to avoid seeming above my place in the household, Layla surprised me by saying, “You must raise your gaze and examine your new home, Melody. There is much to see and take pride in, including yourself, if you wish to please our Master.”

  I didn’t.

  And it wasn’t until one of them gasped while the others tittered with laughter that I became aware of having said so out loud, my head shooting up to find blatant amusement on Layla’s face while my own heated more than ever before in my life.