Rhaemarys

It was tough leaving my girls behind but it was necessary. Amarantha had sent out scouts searching for me, spies started appearing in my connections business - not that they lasted long. My family was no longer safe, simple as that and it was tough as hell to accept that I was the target threatening them.

Getting into the Spring Court on the other hand was child's play.

Tamlin needs new guards. Actually, screw that, he needs new everything. This place is like a mausoleum. Where the hell are all the servants? He must have cleared them out in anticipation of being sequestered under the mountain. How pathetic, one of the last high lords free of that mother forsaken tomb and he's just rolling over on his belly.

Oh well. Tamlin can still be of use to me. At least I hope he can, considering I'm wandering through the overgrown halls of his manor. ]

There's a soft murmur of conversion coming from one of the main rooms. A living room or dining room perhaps. Pausing for a moment I tilt my head, listening for any snippets of use. Two males reside inside. I can hear no further heartbeat but I don't let my guard down. Many glamour their scents and heartbeats so they can walk unobserved.

Some High Lords even glamoured their servants I recall from some of the texts I studied. Which was a bold move, prioritising the statement servants should be seen and not heard, over the well known fact that servants make brilliant spies. Though some were smart enough to enchant the servants' uniform so it always made a noise or limited them from entering certain places.

I remember those spells well. The burning taste of blood in my mouth when I stepped off the proverbial and literal line of my boundaries.

Rage curls in my gut at the reminder of what those Lords did to me. I can feel heta curl in my chest, a familiar power building as my skin stretches and bones threaten to crack. I twist my head, clenching my eyes shut as I fend off the urge to shift and rip out the Lord of Spring's throat.

You're here for his help. I remind myself, I need him - he's my ticket under the mountain. Something stumbles and snarls within me, an instinct and old wound tearing open at the thought of freeing the very people who enslaved me.

But they weren't the same people and those were Nesta's words, not mine.

My daughter was passionate in her defence of the family. She viewed all fae no matter their distant relations to the ones who really hurt me as guilty. I had done the same once upon a time but meeting Rhys had changed my mind. He had fucked up plenty granted. We still argued over his decision to keep one of his cities hidden. That was a wound too fresh to broach with the male, the memories of my people and races long lost to time being segregated and separated from one another for being deemed cruel and monstrous. No better than grunts and animals.

Oh I would be adding in stipulations for freeing Rhys. He could certainly repay my kindness by pulling his act together as High Lord. 500 fucking years and the male has still made so little progress with the Illyrians I once thought of as distant kin.

With that irritated passion in mind I dramatically swing open the doors and grin at the two seated males who quickly rise to their feet.

"Tamlin I presume?" He bristles at my drawling tone, jaw ticking as the red haired male snarls at me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Rhaemarys." I state quickly claiming a chair and slumping down. Love a good power move and it truly is one to sit at the head of the table opposite Tamlin. I tilt my head, the movement purely predatory as I kick my feet up on his breakfast table. "I don;t believe I know you."

"This is Lucien, my emissary." Tamlin bites out and I see the threat of claws brush his knuckles and my own talons begin to darken my nails in response. "Tell Amarantha that I still have two days, our deal still holds."

My nose wrinkles in distaste and for a moment homesickness hits me at the reminder of how Feyre would always scrunch her nose up in confusion.

I force a disgusted shudder, "Mother above, I don't work for that harlot."

Lucien's eyes widen at my tone, he seems to pull back slightly, a cunning glint in his eyes that perfectly matches that beautifully embossed fox mask. A mask surrounded by small scars. So he too tried to escape his chains.

"However, I need you to take me to her." They look at me like i'm insane. I probably am after all those years of confinement. Not to mention the fact that after Nesta's first social events (courtesy of her mother) she informed me that I have terrible people skills and am practically an inept animal in comparison to the people she met. She had said it somewhat fondly but then immediately started educating me on the proper responses to certain situations.

"Do you have a death wish or are you plain stupid?" Tamlin snarls. "The fact you just waltz in here and expect a High Lord to-"

"Careful," They both seem to pause at the sheer dominance in my words and I relish in the fact that I've still got it after all these years. Once a general always a general. "High Lords have very little standing these days. And I hear that having one as a pet is particularly fashionable now."

I eye Tamling meaningfully, "And you do seem more animalistic than most, perhaps I can find you a matching gold collar for that-"

He snaps, shifting as he lunges across the table and I waste no time tackling him to the floor. We grapple on the ground for a moment and I feel spind and wings rip from my back as my eyes burn with molten colour. Once the high lord his pinned face first beneath me with my claws in his neck I pause.

Lucien stares at me in pure horror that is reflected in Tamlin's beastly eyes.

"Are we done?" I snarl, the words distorted by my canines.

He nods limply and I do my best to ignore the pain of a partial shift. I have to shift all the way for the healing bonuses. After another moment to ensure that Tamlin has calmed down I rise to my feet, feeling a long tail flick behind me that I chose to leave in place when I shrug the wings away. Eventually we settled down opposite each other and I picked at the breakfast platter to distract myself from the numb pain from retracting my canines and claws.

Mercifully the wings were a big enough shift to heal on their own.

I want to roll my eyes at the blatant ogling of me but part of me preens at the attention. I know it's not the same wonder children get when they see a dragon. It's the look of fear men get in their eyes when they see a mutant, a twisted experiment but it's still an appraisal all the same.

Flicking my tail slightly I curl it up over my leg. The dark leather limb was covered in bone spines that resembled metal. A dragon's skeleton had to withstand high levels of heat so it was discovered that their bones weren't like animals or fae but a form of hardened stone or metal.

Little Lucien is staring at my tail in open horror, flinching when I flick out a single spine near the end of my tail. He goes a shade paler when I skewer a chunk of cheese from a plate near him with that very spine.

Tamlin does a better job at schooling his emotions but I still see the trepidations and fear in his eyes.

"What are you?" he breathes And I smirk at the wide eyed and slack jawed expression that Lucien quickly covers up at the sound of his High Lord's voice.

"You haven't heard." I pout my lips in mock pity. "That's a shame considering that I heard a certain self proclaimed queen was looking for me."

Tamlin audibly swallows and Lucien looks to him in questions. There's clearly some trust and communication issues there.

"Amarantha sent word that-" He pauses jaw clenching as he takes in the full implication of his own statement. "That a prisoner had escaped from the Prison. One she was keen to capture alive."

Lucien does throw up then but Tamlin and I ignore him even when my maternal instincts scream to help him clean up. I hold the High Lord's gaze, wondering what he's thinking of. He's smart enough to understand the trade offer he could make.

If he could capture me that is.

"Trade me in for the freedom of your court and in return when I summon you, you will answer." He raises his head as my once humorous expression and tone goes cool and dark.

"What makes you think that I would hand over a potential weapon to her. Or even that she would accept the deal considering she wants to enslave my people." Despite his disbelieving tone I can see the cogs turning in his mind. The desperation to be free overruling much of his doubts and better judgement. It was why I waited so long to find him. I need him scared and compliant.

"Because Amarantha never mentioned what escaped the prison did she?" I smirk, the smile purely cruel as Tamlin's eyes narrow. It was clear my lack of threats was softening him a little, allowing him to gain more confidence over a situation he believes he controls. "Trust me sweetheart... she'll give anything to get her hands on me."

A/N: The Plot thickens, what would like to see under the mountain?