ACOTAR - In The Modern World

Within The School

The school had always been their prison, but now it was worse. 

Feyre sat at home with Lucien, most likely pondering why he'd left so suddenly, barely able to welcome her to his house. 

He followed Amarantha, more willingly than the others. He had been one of the few to glance in the staff room as they passed - blood splattered on the walls, bodies slumped over desks. 

The authorities would be stumped. 

At least, he thought, if she has the capability to do something like that, then being under her protection would be much, much worse than defying her. Glancing in Rhy's directing, he could see beneath the calculating mask that his opinion wasn't shared. 

"Ah! Tamlin, my dear," Amarantha exclaimed as Tamlin took a spot walking next to her. He could feel the glares of the others bearing into his back, but he didn't care. Let them be slaughtered rather than him. "I was worried there would more resistance from the others, but never from you. You were always such a wonderful student." A little seed of pride nestled within him. Compliments were rare. 

Her footsteps stopped abruptly as they reached the double doors leading into the main hall, cloaked in that same dark velvety material that covered all of the classroom walls. 

"I know what you're all thinking. The redecorating does seem a little harsh, doesn't it?" She pushed open the doors to the room beyond. "Better get used to it."

The seed of pride in Tamin's chest decayed into a seed of doubt. 

The wooden walls now longer glowed with a hidden warmth, now casting out crepuscular shadows of fear and pain, the fine planks reduced to dry, stern rocks. The bright curtains were replaced with silky, flowing swaths of black material, lighter than the ones in the corridors. They drifted threateningly in a draft blowing from nowhere. 

But most daunting, most soul-shaking, was the throne sat upon a rocky platform. Two smaller ones reigned beside it. 

"Welcome to your new home, boys. Refreshments are along the back wall - I highly," she made eye contact with Rhys, "highly, recommend having some of that punch." 

She sauntered over to the throne, long red hair swaying a dark contrast to her surroundings. "Tamlin, Rhys, come sit. I have a little something... special for you two." 

Reluctantly, the two followed her up to the dais. Something in Rhy's face had eased since passing the staff-room. 

As they sat, bold upright in the frigid thrones, Amarantha leaned over to whisper in each of their ears, Rhys first. As Tamlin watched her lips move, Rhys's tan face drained of colour, and he swallowed tightly. 

A small smile on her lips, Amarantha leaned towards Tamlin's direction on her right. 

"I need you to do something for me. I'm going to give you a chance - I'm going to let you out of here. But that new girl - remember her?" Tamlin nodded shortly. How could he forget? "If you can get her to admit her love for you, I will remove the files I've gathered about the eighteenth of August, 2009 - do you also remember what happened then? You'll be jailed for life." She smiled sweetly, as though she wasn't about to jeopardise his entire future. "You have seven by seven days. Go." 

And so, without another word, he exited the room, memories from that fateful day cascading upon his mind, crushing any other thoughts. 

Despite her few words, the threat was horribly clear. Induce this poor stranger, or be sent to prison for the rest of his life. 

Revving the engine to his Porsch, Tamlin knew what he had to do.