Right I know I haven't updated in ages! I had intended to update very regularly throughout the summer, but instead I had a summer job and I was just soooo busy that I had no time! So I'm really sorry about that. Here's the next chapter anyway and I hope you like it.

Ch.3: Subject to Him

The horizon blurred, as the white sky consumed the sea, making it appear as though the quant town was merely a painting on a blank canvas. The brush felt heavy in her hand as her stiff wrist swept back and forth. Feyre had managed to convince herself that it would somehow elicit a sense of normality amongst the monotonous, pretence that her life had become. In truth, it had taken her mind off of her current situation. Reality had only begun to set in. At first it had felt like a temporary predicament, as though her stay would be short lived and deep down she believed that she would be returning home to her court in a matter of days. When in reality, she had not even made contact with her mate in several days. Feeling alone in a place she had once described as home sickened Feyre, but unfortunately the feeling was one she had grown accustomed to.

Once upon a time she had been excluded from the affairs of the Spring Court due to being human, now the reasons and circumstances were entirely different. There was no one to turn to, or offer comfort. In fact, now that she thought about it she hadn't set eye on one servant since her return. Had they been excused from their duties? Had they fled the wrath of their High Lord? Or had something worse happened? It was difficult to tell considering Tamlin's random bursts of outrage. Anything could've happened to her allies. As a result, Feyre was forced to endure the rare presence of Lucien and Tamlin.

Perhaps…she thought, the lack of company could prove advantageous. With that in mind, Feyre decided to track down information. The sooner she gathered anything valuable, the sooner she could return home. Home. The thought dazed her momentarily. She could imagine the day she would once again be in Rhysand's arms, surrounded by the inner circle- her closest friends. Azriel would quickly reside to the shadows, acting as though he was unaffected, when in reality he would be equally as overjoyed as the rest. Mor would of course be all over her High Lady, much to Rhysand's annoyance, considering he endured the absence of his mate. Cassian would of course encase her in his bone crushing hug. While Amren wouldn't unveil her true emotions- though each of them wouldn't question her gratefulness, seeing as they had endured her critic of Rhysand's actions.

"Feyre," for the first time since her arrival, Feyre would've preferred Lucien's company. Tamlin emerged from his study; hair tousled and shirt hanging open. Before the sight would've provoked explicit thoughts, but now it exposed the man he truly was. He had clearly been working out since her departure, as his once lean and toned physique was now rippled with bulging muscles- yet in an unpleasing manner. His face however, looked more gaunt and haggard, as his eyes were rimmed with shadows, and his cheeks hallow. Her actions seemed more obvious now.
"Yes?" she finally replied, already inching away from him, ever so slightly.
"It's late, why aren't you asleep? I thought you wanted your rest," he queried. His domineering and manipulative side now shone through clearer- or rather Feyre was no longer blind to it.
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided a walk might ease my mind," she lied swiftly. He glanced at her attire; dress splattered with paint, and her skin cracked and smudged from her previous task also. Feyre didn't bother to mention that she had been painting- that much was obvious. It wasn't that she thought he would be displeased by the thought either. Provided she was locked in her bedroom or painting room, it didn't bother Tamlin either way, she supposed.
"Perhaps some company might help?" he offered, but Feyre detected the underlying meaning. She had now been back for two weeks, and clearly he wanted to advance his progress and regain the level of intimacy they once shared.
"Thank you," Feyre bit back the sneer and forced a smile. "I think perhaps some time alone might be best," she declined politely. Without a word he grabbed her by the arm, roughly, and dragged her into the study.
"Feyre," he growled, ignoring her previous statement. Feyre struggled against his hold. Appear weak, appear vulnerable, act human. She reminded herself. For if she revealed her true potential, then their plan would be void and she might as well have lost the war for everyone. Feyre had to remain underestimated and keep Tamlin in the dark, in order to succeed in her act of deception. His lips came crashing down on her skin with a bruising pressure. She squirmed, helplessly. He yanked her by the wrists and held her arms in place against the wall; trapped. Subject to his power, Feyre could do little else but allow his hands to roam her body, as his teeth grazed her collar bone.
"Tamlin, please…I'm not ready." She pleaded, sickened at what he had reduced her to. But her requests fell on deaf ears. He proceeded in unlacing her dress with anything but gentle hands and she could see no escape as to what was about to happen. A crash could be heard downstairs but the High Lord's full attention was on his prey. Tamlin kissed her breasts and she tried shuffling away. BANG! The lust that had dominated his expression vanished, replaced by a glazed over appearance. He stared blankly at her and without a word, stood. After making himself appear respectful, Tamlin disappeared leaving a half-naked Feyre, stunned and laying on the carpet.

Feyre's skin had turned blotchy and red in places as she stepped out of the bath. Her agile fingers were now wrinkled looking, after having spent the past two hours in the water, scrubbing her skin until it burned. Her efforts were fruitless, as she still felt his sickening touch upon her. Feyre couldn't help but feel grateful as to whatever had summoned him, but that glazed over expression played across her mind again and again. His demeanour had changed in a matter of seconds, but Feyre couldn't comprehend why. Perhaps figuring that out would be the first step to finding the information they needed.