A Court of Ash and Necromancy

42. To Kill a Witch

Wynter stared out the window, his eyes fixed on the jagged rocks far below the towering castle. He couldn't find a latch on the window. Perhaps if he broke it out... Wynter blinked the thought aside. What good would that do? Melantha could simply drink his blood and bring him back as a corpse. He'd still be forced to serve her and there would be no one here to protect Estelle, Evren, Elain, and Cresseida.

Two days had passed since Venelia was set free. Wynter hadn't been back in the dungeon since. He'd been here. In this room. Melantha's room. Serving her however she desired. She'd made him fill a goblet with blood from a corpse. She'd made him slice his palm open and let some of his own fall into the glass. She'd made him hold it to her lips as she drank.

And then she'd made him serve her in other ways, until his own body betrayed him. Until all he felt was shame and disgust. Despair and horror. Pleasure that he didn't want. A lifetime of this. Centuries. Thousands of years, if Melantha had her way. He knew the High Lords and Ladies had to be working on a plan to stop her. If only there was something he could do to help. Passing along information. Guiding them here somehow. Killing Melantha.

Wynter loosed a heavy breath. He'd scoured the room for weapons or anything that could be used as one. There was nothing there. He'd never felt so powerless in his life. Melantha held all the cards. She pulled all the strings. She held everything in the palm of her bloodstained hand.

Wynter jumped as the lock clicked and the door swung open. Melantha sashayed in, swiping her tongue across her lips. She'd just performed Sanguis, apparently. There was an unnatural brightness in her eyes. Wynter had learned that performing Sanguis gave her more energy and power. She usually summoned him after taking control of a few corpses.

"There's something about draining the life from a person that's just so...amusing," Melantha sighed. She uncorked a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. She handed one to him. Wynter eyed the glass. Perhaps if he broke the top off it, he could use the bottom half to... Melantha's voice interrupted the thought. "I'm in a good mood today, so I thought I might give you a gift."

"A gift?" Wynter asked. He wanted nothing from her. Nothing but her death.

"Yes. A gift." Melantha smiled, combing her nails through his hair. "Drink."

Wynter lowered his gaze and obediently sipped his wine. Shame burned his cheeks. He once again longed for the ability to peel off his own skin, just to get rid of the disgusting feelings and sensations that crept through it.

"You will be mine forever. I can do whatever I want with you. But just this once, I will allow you to do whatever you want, with whomever you want."

Wynter narrowed his eyes. "What...what do you mean?"

"I'm a shapeshifter, Pet. I can turn into whomever you desire." Her lips curled into a grin. "And I think I know who that is."

Wynter watched in surprise as Melantha's features shifted. She seemed shorter and her facial features softened. Her eyes grew large and round, taking on a crystal blue hue. Her red lips curved into a full round mouth. Black hair became blacker still, falling to the center of her back.

His heart raced and Wynter resisted the urge to back away. Melantha, now wearing the face of his dream, smiled. "Would you like to know my name?" She asked. Her voice was familiar, but not quite right. "Elodie," she murmured, bringing her lips towards his ear. If Melantha thought she would gain more influence over him this way, she was sorely mistaken.

"Elodie," he echoed.

Yes, her name was Elodie, but that wasn't what she had asked him to call her. There was another name she preferred to go by. And Wynter knew this because he had finally spoken to her. Just once, shortly before Melantha kidnapped him.