Here's chapter three! I really hope you enjoy it :) As always, trigger warnings apply for this work, about domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.

Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing, it means the world :)

Thank you so much to my amazing beta-reader for this entire fic imaginemotherofdragons ! She knows a loooot of spoilers but I trust her not to get bribed ;)

A week had passed since her altercation with Tamlin, and Feyre hadn't had the courage to bring back up the subject with him. She'd gone twice to her job at the bakery, enjoying these afternoons away from home during which she could think more clearly while serving customers. But still, the half-knowledge of his illicit activities was eating her alive. She stayed awake at night, looking at him and thinking of the pattern she had found in the books. She didn't talk to him in the mornings, wondering if he was going to his normal job, or if he was about to do anything illegal. She couldn't focus on her paintings, too busy guessing how his family had gotten involved in all this.

Seated in front of an empty canvas for the fifth time in as many days, Feyre sighed and started putting away her brushes. She wouldn't be able to be creative with her brain working relentlessly on extravagant scenarios of drug deals in dark alleys going more insanely wrong with every passing second. Trying to chase the images out of her mind, she left the room Tamlin had given her for her paintings and went into the kitchen, hoping to find something to distract herself with. The house was quiet, nobody around but the maid upstairs. Starting the kettle, Feyre began to go through the mail, not expecting to find anything worthy of her attention. She was quickly proven wrong when she found a fancy envelope with her name on it. Inside was a card decorated with delicate flowers, and the text written on it was beautiful, inviting.

Save the Date

Nesta ARCHERON & Cassian KNIGHT

happily invite you to celebrate with them

On their wedding day

Saturday, May 24th at 4 o'clock

The Lumni Inn

Elkridge, Velaris

Feyre stared at the invitation for a long while, taking in the delicate words staring back at her. She picked up the envelope to unfold the second piece of paper in there, much less fancy than the actual invitation. The note was short, written in her oldest sister's handwriting.

Feyre,

I know we haven't been in touch for the last couple of years, but Cassian and I are getting married next month, and I want you to be here. Call me before the 21st of this month to confirm if you'll come alone or with your boyfriend. Also, I need you to meet me at the dress shop on Fifth to try on your bridesmaid dress, we need to set a day.

Call me,

Nesta.

She chuckled at the typical harsh style of her sister, demanding for her to be present without actually asking her. Obviously, Feyre wanted to be at her sister's wedding, but it was so typically Nesta to tell her in that way. She had barely seen her sisters in the years since they'd all moved out of their father's place, they kept in touch via text messages from time to time, and Feyre knew of Nesta's serious relationship with this Cassian, but she hadn't known of the engagement, and hadn't expected to receive a wedding invitation. Since the beginning of her relationship with Tamlin, she'd talked with them even less, letting time go by without keeping in touch, and now it had been six months since she'd even spoken with one of them. So it was no surprise that she might have missed some big news like Nesta getting engaged. Her oldest sister and her had never been really close or gotten along very well, at least not since the death of their mother when they were teens. She didn't really mind not seeing her sisters that much. Nesta was pursuing her career as a defence lawyer, and Elain was away most of the time, her job as an environmental scientist taking her all over the country for conferences. So when she had started to decline every invitation they sent to her, too busy with activities her then new boyfriend Tamlin arranged, they hadn't insisted very long, and neither had she.

And now Nesta was getting married. In a month and a half. Smiling at the invitation, Feyre went to her purse to get her phone out, and dialed her sister's number.

"Feyre!" It wasn't Nesta who answered.

"Hey Elain. I was trying to get Nesta."

"She's trying on her dress right now and it's getting a little… messy," Elain finished after a pause, and Feyre couldn't help her laugh.

"Yes, I can imagine." She knew how demanding Nesta could be, and she couldn't imagine how hard to please she would become during wedding preparations.

"Anyway, how are you?"

My boyfriend has been lying to me, I don't know what to do about it, or with my life in general, and I can't talk to anyone about it so it's starting to consume me.

"Good. Nothing new, really."

"Are you still working at the little bakery downtown? I went there last weekend but you weren't there."

"Yes I still work there. It's just that I reduced my hours, I'm there on Mondays and Thursdays, in the afternoon."

"You cut back on your hours? Is… everything okay?"

"It is, it's just that Tamlin suggested I didn't really need a job with him supporting me, but I didn't want to quit entirely, so we compromised."

"Oh, okay. How are things with Tamlin?"

What were you supposed to say to your sort of estranged big sister when she asked you about your love life and you wanted to answer with 'I need to spy on him to find out more about his drug business"? Feyre thought for a second before saying anything, and she settled for an effective technique: changing the subject.

"Everything's good. But I don't want to bore you with my domestic life. How are you? How is life on the road for your conferences treating you?"

It worked, and Elain dropped the subject of Tamlin to explain to her the perks of living in hotel rooms and meeting amazing people every week. Smiling, Feyre took her phone and the wedding invitation into the living room, settling on a chair. It felt good, hearing her sister's voice again, learning about her life, and her passion, listening to her being so excited about a project she was developing in the Amazon forest… As she sat there, talking with Elain, her feet swinging over the arm of the chair, Feyre felt a weight being taken off her chest. She didn't know how she had let so much time pass without talking to her. It had happened slowly, without any good reason, really. She'd had to cancel on her sisters a few times when she'd started dating Tamlin, because he'd kept on asking her out and she didn't want to disappoint him. Then they had moved in together, and they had been so busy with dinner parties, and romantic evenings, that she had just let time pass her by, and now, as she laughed at her sister's story about a guy who had tried to seduce her in Los Angeles, she was regretting it. Because she couldn't remember the last time they had talked that much. Or the last time she had called her friend Clare to check up on her new business. Or the last time she had done something, anything, that didn't have something to do with Tamlin, or his friends, or his family. She needed to catch up on her social life.

"... So then he invited me over to his casino in Vegas. And I was like 'Man, have you not realized I'm an environmental activist? Like I'm going to spend a weekend in the ecological catastrophe that is Las Vegas! So anyway, after that I… Feyre, Nesta is coming out of the fitting room. Oh, you look gorgeous, Nesta!"

Feyre heard her oldest sister mumble something about the pins holding the dress hurting her like hell, and she laughed. It might have been six months since she'd last talked to her sisters, but Nesta hadn't changed a bit.

"Elain, listen. I see you guys are busy. Can you tell Nesta I'll be at the wedding, and that she can just text me the date and time for the dress fitting on Fifth. Okay?"

"Sure, I'll tell her that once she's out of the dress. It was nice talking to you, Feyre!"

"You too, Elain. See you soon."

And then the world was quiet again, and the joyful attitude that had poured out of her sister's voice was gone.

Looking around her, she took in the piano nobody ever touched, the bookshelves filled with books she was the only one reading, and the perfectly arranged sofas around the large TV. She was alone again, with nothing to think about except her boyfriend, and his lies to her.

She heard a car stopping in front of the house in the dead of night, so she went to the window. Rhysand came out of the driver's seat, and went to open the door of the house. Tamlin came out of the car, surrounded by Bron and Hart, both men supporting him. They crossed the light of a street lamp, and she saw the red spreading across her boyfriend's face. Without thinking, without putting on anything on top of the light white nightgown she'd been wearing, she ran out of the bedroom to go downstairs. She got to the living room in time to see them laying him down on the sofa, and she was hurrying to him when she felt a strong arm come across her stomach.

"Feyre, don't worry, he's fine," she heard Rhysand say from beside her. "He took a bad hit to the head so we came home but he's gonna be fine."

"Let go of me."

"Feyre, he needs to rest and -"

"Let. Go."

He took back his arm and she jumped to the side of the sofa where her boyfriend was unconscious. The side of his forehead was open, and although it didn't seem too bad, he was bleeding a lot. She touched his lips and could feel he was breathing somewhat erratically.

"He passed out in the car," Bron said from behind her, "but he's fine, he just needs a few stitches. Do you have a med kit somewhere?" She didn't answer, her eyes solely on Tamlin and the blood on his head. She heard the men moving behind her, and then she felt the light touch of a hand on her shoulder.

"Feyre," Rhysand said softly, "I know the situation is upsetting, but I need you to help me if you want Tamlin to get better. Would you show me where you have a med kit?"

She turned away from Tamlin and found herself looking into calm, deep blue eyes, that were strangely soothing.

"It's in the upstairs bathroom," she said, still startled.

"Good. I'm going to come get it with you. Come on," he slid a hand under her elbow to help her up, and then they were leaving the living room, and going up the stairs. By the time they reached the bathroom door, Feyre had regained her senses, and was now moving in precise movements, determined to get the help Tamlin needed. She got the kit out of the cupboard and was about to head downstairs when Rhysand stopped her.

"I'll take it downstairs."

"I can do it."

"Oh, I know you can. It's just… well, no offense but you might want to put some clothes on before going back down."

She looked down on herself, finally realizing she was only wearing a very short, very revealing nightgown, that offered an extensive view of her bare legs, as well as her chest. She felt her cheeks starting to burn at the idea that she'd been half naked in front of her boyfriend's colleagues. And then she shuddered at the idea of what Tamlin would do if he learned she'd let them see her that way.

"Oh, I didn't realize…"

"It's okay, Feyre, don't worry about it." And, in a much lighter tone, he added with a wink, "I really didn't mind."

She gave him the most murderous look she could muster, and tossed him the kit before heading to her bedroom.

She came down a minute later, dressed in leggings and a sweater, and found Hart bent over Tamlin, and Rhysand leaning on the doorway, looking at them.

"Where's Bron?" She asked, coming to a stop beside him.

"He took the car away."

"Oh."

They stayed silent for a while, watching Hart working the needle. Finally, Feyre said:

"Tell me what happened."

He turned to her. "I can't tell you anything, I'm sorry."

"You don't get to be sorry, just tell me."

"No."

"Rhysand, my boyfriend is bleeding in our living room. I need to know what happened that got him there."

"You can ask him directly when he wakes up. Hart is almost done."

"He..." she started, almost ashamed of what she was going to admit, "he won't tell me anything if I ask him. He doesn't want me to talk about… all this."

The expression on his face softened slightly, almost becoming pity, and it only made her more uncomfortable, because she didn't know what to do with what she saw in his eyes.

"We were handling a deal down by the docks, and a few members of another interested party got there before us, so it got a little heated and Tamlin got hurt. But as I told you, it's nothing too bad, he'll be fine."

"Wait. Tamlin was handling a deal?!"

"Yeah. Why?"

"When I asked him about all this, he told me… he said he wasn't doing any kind of real work like that, that he was simply a paperpusher."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry Feyre, but he lied to you."

"No, you must be mistaken, this was probably a one-time thing. He wouldn't lie to me like that."

"You mean, like he didn't lie to you for months before?"

"Don't be sarcastic. You can think what you want, but I know him. He wouldn't take inconsiderate risks."

"On that we agree, Darling. It wasn't supposed to be risky tonight. But I'm telling you, your boyfriend handles more than what you imagine."

Feyre didn't answer, unable to form a decent response to what Rhysand had told her. Instead, she turned back to Tamlin and Hart, only to find that her boyfriend was awake and watching her. She left Rhysand's side immediately and kneeled beside Tamlin's head.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Feyre, what are you doing here?"

"You're home. It's okay, Hart took care of you and you're fine now." She couldn't restrain her smile at seeing him awake.

"I know where I am. You should be upstairs, you have no business being down here." His tone was so hard and angry, she didn't know what to say for a minute.

"Tamlin, you're hurt, I wanted to help and -"

"I don't care what you wanted to do, I told you not to get involved in this and yet the first chance you get, you throw yourself into things that don't concern you."

"Tam, I saw the blood on your face through the window and I was worried about you. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter now, you got what you wanted. Now let me get up, Feyre."

Trying to stop her eyes from tearing up, Feyre moved out of the way and waited as Rhysand and Hart helped him get up. She didn't look at the men, ashamed of what they had just witnessed, regretting having come downstairs when she had seen them.

They all started going upstairs and getting to the bedroom, Tamlin supported by Rhys, as Hart stood behind them just in case. Both men helped him to the bedroom, and then they were leaving. Feyre sat beside her boyfriend on the bed, and took his hand slowly, hoping to gain his forgiveness.

"Feyre," Rhysand called from the door, and she looked at him, "take care of yourself."

Without adding anything more, he was gone, and she heard the front door closing a minute later, leaving her with Tamlin. She turned back towards him and found him staring at her.

"Tam, I'm sorry about -"

"What was that about?"

Taken aback, she didn't know what to say except: "What?"

"'Take care of yourself'? Why the hell would he tell you that? And why were you talking to him in the living room?"

"I - Tamlin, what are you saying?"

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just asking you what's going on. You saw this man like three times in two weeks, you barely said hello to him, and now he's telling you to take care? What's going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing is going on! I was asking him what had happened! And right now, I don't know what that was about, okay?" She could see his jaw clenching and his fist tightening. "Look Tam, you just went through something hard, you're tired and you need to rest. Why don't you try to calm down, take your clothes off, get into bed, and I'll make you a cup of tea, okay?"

He kept looking at her with narrow eyes for a long time before finally nodding, and she got up from the bed to go to the kitchen. She was at the door when he said:

"I love you, Feyre."

She turned back to him and smiled. "I love you too."

Downstairs, she watched the water boiling and thought back to what Rhysand had told her, about Tamlin lying to her and being much more involved than he'd let on, and as she poured the water into a mug, she started thinking of ways to confront him about his actions. She needed answers, and she would get them.