Venelia was growing weaker by the day. They could hardly convince her to eat or drink anything. Estelle didn't blame her. Their water was usually brown and filthy. The food quality had dropped significantly once more.

She was finding it difficult to force herself to eat and drink too. It seemed like everything she consumed came right back up. No one questioned her, but they all did their best to make sure she ate or drank something again after she'd calmed down.

Estelle stroked Venelia's hair, eyeing her friend nervously. Venelia's skin had lost its sun kissed glow. There were dark circles under her hazy emerald eyes. Her cheeks had taken on a hollow look. Her cough was worse and her fever was eating her up. She was beginning to resemble the version of herself from Estelle's nightmare.

Venelia shivered, hugging her arms tighter around herself. Estelle tucked a wing over her shoulders. Evren, Elain, and Cresseida were asleep, their soft snores filling the room. The metal door grated open. Estelle heard Wynter's soft footsteps before she saw him.

There was a vacant look in his eye as he pulled loose damp hair out of his face and tied it at the nape of his neck. "How is she?" He asked, gesturing to Venelia. His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat.

"Not good," Estelle replied. "There was blood when she coughed today."

"Did she eat anything?"

"Not a bite."

"Did you?" Wynter arched an eyebrow.

Estelle averted her gaze. She'd been trying to hide her nausea from Wynter, but there had been times when it overwhelmed her and she couldn't stop herself from throwing up. Wynter was smart. She was certain he'd pieced everything together, just as she and the others had.

"Estelle?" Wynter urged.

"Yes, I managed to eat a little. You don't need to worry about me."

"You're my friend's mate. I worry for his sake as well as yours." His throat bobbed as he crouched, brushing two fingers across Venelia's forehead. Estelle didn't like the look of resignation that filled his icy gaze.

Venelia's eyes fluttered open. She stared right at Wynter, but didn't seem to see him. "Ven?" Estelle nudged her with an elbow.

"I'm on fire," Venelia rasped.

"It's just your fever. You'll be cold again in a moment. Stay under my wing," Estelle ordered as Venelia attempted to push it aside.

"I'll burn you." Venelia pushed her wing away, then paused, spying the manacles around her wrists. She cocked her head, shoulders shaking with the force of a cough. "Do you think I could melt my chains off?"

"Why don't you try?" Estelle replied. She touched Venelia's shoulder and guided her back beneath her wing. "But stay here while you do it."

Venelia's breathing was labored. "I'm so hot, Estelle." She blinked rapidly, her eyes crossing briefly. "I think I'm going blind."

"She's delirious," Wynter said.

"You're not going blind. Uncross your eyes," Estelle sighed. Venelia closed her eyes, then opened them. They were uncrossed.

"I'm sorry." Venelia touched her forehead. "I don't feel like myself anymore." She leaned forward, discarding Estelle's wing again. "Why is it so hot in here?"

Wynter touched Venelia's wrist, then slid his hand up her arm. She gave a sigh of relief. He clenched his jaw, cupping her cheek in his other hand. "What are you doing?" Estelle asked.

"Remember what I said about those of us from the Winter Court being able to withstand colder temperatures?" Estelle nodded. "Our body temperatures are naturally lower too. I'm trying to cool her down."

"Is that what you did when Melantha cut my hand?"

Wynter nodded, swallowing hard as he kept his hands on Venelia. "It kept your wound from becoming inflamed." Estelle brushed her thumb over the scarring mark on her palm. "If I had my magic, I could make myself colder."

"Mikael can make himself warmer. It's a trick he learned from Eris." Estelle tugged on the silent Mating Bond, her heart constricting with longing. Shadows squeezed her arms.

"I imagine that's convenient."

"It is."

Wynter let his hands linger on Venelia a few moments longer, before he drew back. He was shaking. Venelia slumped against Estelle, her eyes drifting shut. Wynter rubbed his hands up and down his own arms, staring at the ground blankly.

"Are you all right?" Estelle asked.

"I want to throw up, or claw my own skin off, or sit in freezing water until I don't feel anything," he whispered. "I just want to get rid of this feeling."

"What feeling?"

"I feel..." Wynter shuddered, digging his nails into his arms. "Disgusting. Too small for my skin. Too large for my bones. Crawling with...something. I want out of my own fucking body." His voice broke. Wynter pushed himself to his feet and vanished into his corner, still running his nails over his skin.

Estelle didn't look at him. She focused her gaze on Venelia, smoothing hair from her forehead. "I know what you mean," she said. "Believe me, I do."

◦═══✦═══◦

Wynter sat by himself, listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping companions and Venelia's wheezing lungs. He had to do something. She couldn't stay here any longer. Not if she was going to recover from her illness. If she remained in these conditions, she and her baby would die. He couldn't have that on his conscience. Not when there was something he could do about it.

Wynter sat there, trembling in his corner as he thought about what he could do, what he could offer, in exchange for Venelia's safe return to her family. No matter what he said though, he knew She would have some other stipulation to add. She always did.

He wished he could relieve the discomfort of Venelia's fever again, but the thought of touching her sent his skin crawling. Wynter had barely managed to touch her for as long as he had without throwing up. That realization terrified him. Would he always be like this? Would the touch of a female, whether instigated by himself or her, forever disgust him now?

What about his mother? Would he be able to stomach embracing his mother? Shaking hands with ambassadors and allies? Dancing at balls and parties? What about...her? The dream of a female he'd left at home? Would he ever be able to bear another touch from her?

Wynter slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. He'd carried it with him since the day he received it. It was the one thing Melantha hadn't stolen from him yet. Wynter stared at the two words. Two words he wasn't sure he deserved. He didn't know why they'd been given to him.

Thank you.

The dungeon door banged open and he stuffed the note back into his pocket. Melantha's footsteps echoed on the stone stairs. The females lurched awake. Wynter sucked down deep breaths, heart hammering against his chest.

"Five days until your executions," Melantha chuckled. "I hope you've been keeping track. You should live each day to its fullest. There will be no second chances at life for any of you." She tapped her chin. "Well, a third chance for you, I suppose," she said to Evren. The High Lady glared up at Melantha.

Wynter's jaw trembled as he rose, catching Melantha's attention. "Venelia won't survive the next five days unless she's healed."

Melantha crossed her arms, tilting her head curiously. All eyes turned to Wynter. Estelle was shaking her head. Venelia's glassy gaze reflected despair. "And? She's going to die anyway so I might as well let an illness finish her off."

"No," Wynter protested. "Send her to her family. Unharmed and alive. Please."

Melantha's lips curled into a smile. "Why should I?"

"Because she's been suffering too long already. Let her go home. You don't need her here."

"Oh, but I do. She is leverage. Her family is desperate to get her back. If I give her to them, I'll lose that much influence over their next steps."

"You still have all of us. They'll come for us. Estelle is important to Venelia's family too."

Melantha's gaze fell on the Shadowsinger. "What will you give me if I let her go?"

He swallowed. "Whatever you ask."

Melantha closed her eyes, a pleased grin crossing her features. "Very well. I will send her home and in return, you will remain my pet for the rest of your life. Willingly. You will never try to escape. You will never struggle or fight against me. If you do, I will hunt her down and slit her throat, and make you drink her blood. One life for two."

Venelia trembled, hiding her face in the crook of Estelle's neck. Wynter bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. An entire lifetime of serving Melantha. A lifetime of being nothing more than her pet. Nothing more than her whore. Wynter swallowed a sob and nodded.

"Then enjoy your freedom, Venelia." Melantha waved a hand and Venelia vanished from sight. "There. She will arrive wherever her mate is, unharmed and alive."

If only his life could have bought freedom for the rest of them. Wynter didn't lift his head. Melantha's skirts swished as she walked over to him. "Leave him alone, you bitch!" Estelle snarled. She swept a wing at Melantha's heels.

Melantha whirled, backhanding Estelle. She was knocked back into the stone wall. Wynter heard a pop as her wings folded behind her. Estelle grimaced, straightening. He glared at Estelle, shaking his head subtly. She held his gaze, sorrow flooding her amber eyes. Wynter let his glare fade and he loosed a heavy breath.

"Hm." Melantha skimmed her nails across his neck as she circled him. "We will have centuries together. Perhaps even thousands of years, if I can convince you to take up Sanguis." She dug her nails into his skin, forcing him to his knees. Wynter grunted as the other females jerked against their chains. "Disobey me, and Venelia will be the first corpse you control," she snarled. "Am I understood, Pet?"

Wynter swallowed, not answering. Melantha gripped him harder and blood dripped down his neck. "Answer me," she hissed.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Yes...?" She prompted.

He wouldn't say it. He would not call her what she had demanded he address her as. He would not be brought so low as to... Melantha clenched one hand into a fist. Estelle's hands flew to her neck and she began screaming. The scent of ashwood and scalding flesh filled the room.

"Yes, Mistress," Wynter cried out.

Estelle's screams faded and frightened tears ran down her cheeks. She tugged at the ashwood collar, desperately trying to break it. Wynter couldn't look at her. He couldn't look at any of them. Not as Melantha hauled him to his feet and shoved him towards the stairs.

"You will learn to do as you're told," she whispered beside his ear. "Because it will no longer be you who bears the consequences if you don't."