A Court of Snow and Storms

28. I am Here

He lay on top of burgundy sheets, held in place by chains. Melantha sat beside him, scraping her talon-like nails over his chest. He was still shaking. Still sweating. His stomach clenched, but he didn't dare throw up.

"You know they'll never want you now," Melantha whispered, her voice surprisingly gentle. "You'll be nothing more than an embarrassment to them. A useless son who couldn't protect himself. A worthless heir, at odds with his own body. No one will trust you. No one will want you."

She stroked his hair and dragged a finger along his jawline. "That is why I offer you eternity. You only have to perform Sanguis, and you will live as long as me. You will never be alone. You will never be scoffed at or mocked. You will never be seen as broken or marred. You will be mine, and no one will dare lay a finger on you."

Melantha bent over, her lips brushing his forehead. "I know who you should resurrect first. I'll give her to you as a gift. We can reattach her head. She'll be good as new."

"She'll be dead," he spat.

"Dead, but yours." He didn't answer. "Her body is untouched. I have saved it from scavengers. She is in perfect condition, minus the wounds that took her life, and her missing head, of course." Melantha trailed kisses over his cheekbone. "She'll look almost like you remember her, once she's been resurrected. But, if you prefer a more lively version of her, I can always shapeshift."

"How did that work out for you last time?"

She narrowed her eyes. "How did it work out for you?" Her nails traced the four jagged scars on his throat. "I am offering you what you've always wanted. What you could never have. How long must you deny yourself, my Pet? How long will you remain miserable?"

"Every day for the rest of my fucking life."

"A pity. You're so much prettier when you're happy."

She shifted and his chains loosened. Melantha grabbed the chain attached to his collar, pulling him upright. She twisted beneath him and panic clutched his mind. He didn't want to. Not again. Not now. Not ever. He didn't want to. He didn't want this. He didn't want her. He didn't want to. Tears burned beneath his eyelids. Ice crackled through his veins, unable to escape. He didn't want to.

"Wynter," she breathed.

He didn't want to. He didn't want to! HE DIDN'T WANT TO! His limbs were trembling as she tugged him closer.

"Wynter."

Her voice sounded different. It sounded louder. More familiar. Something was shining in his chest. He felt a sharp tug. Heard another cry. His hand flew to his heart.

"Wynter!"

❅•~❅~•❅

Wynter lurched awake, clawing at his wrists and neck, still feeling the cold metal of his chains and collar. His face was wet. His throat was hoarse. "Wynter." A warm hand gripped his arm.

Wynter jerked away, his stomach churning. He was still there. Still in Melantha's bedroom. She was going to be angry with him. She was going to hurt the others. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he rolled off the bed and hit the floor. Sheets rustled and Wynter scrambled backwards until he was pressed up against a wall. He drew his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his arms.

"I'm sorry," He rasped. "I didn't mean to. I'll do anything. Anything you want. Don't hurt them. Please. Please. Please."

"Wyn, what are you..." There was a faint gasp. "Oh, Wyn. I'm so sorry!" Melantha never said she was sorry. Melantha never called him Wyn. He gulped down large breaths of air, not daring to lift his head. "It was a nightmare," she said. "Just a dream. I'm sorry I scared you. Do you need me to go out for a little while?"