The Cabin By The Lake: Chapter 1

Lush, green fields seemed to stretch on forever, utterly untouched by civilization.

Shades of green and gold Feyre had never even seen intertwined with one another under an endless blue sky. The cool summer breeze tickled her ear and brought only a hint of pine from the still-distant mountain forests. A clear, dazzling river snaked beneath them as they flew.

It was the most beautiful thing Feyre had ever seen.

"I think it's time everyone took a break," Mor tapped Feyre's shoulder, jogging her from her daze. Mor's eyes were fixed on Azriel, and the sweat dripping down his neck.

Feyre nodded, passed the message along to the others, and the group angled for landing.

Every time they stopped the landing was a little faster and a little harder. This being the third time they'd landed, a couple of the winged fae came closer to crashing.

None more so than Azriel.

"Anyone wants to get a drink or cool off in that river, I'll slow the surface down." Varian offered. He patted Azriel's arm as the male released him and Amren.

"Water." Azriel panted. His face was bright red and when he followed Varian to the river's edge, he shook his arms to try and alleviate the trembling.

Feyre set Mor down, red-faced herself, and tried to roll her aching shoulders. Cassian was only too happy to let Lucien step out of his grip, and Rhysand set Elain down delicately on the tall grass.

"How do you do it?" Feyre panted as Rhys came to massage her neck, "Look at you- you aren't even winded."

"I probably will be after this last leg. It's my turn to carry two. I think I'll take Varian and Lucien- not great conversationalists, but they're the heaviest." Rhys kissed the back of Feyre's head and added with a whisper, "Elain is lighter than Mor. Amren is the lightest, but she keeps squirming around. I don't think she's a fan of being flownplaces."

"I'll keep that in mind." Feyre reached back to squeeze Rhys' hand and he released her. She intertwined her fingers with his and they headed for the river's edge to get a drink with everyone else.

"How close are we?" Azriel nudged Cassian once he'd taken his fill.

Cassian looked at the mountains around them, "Another hour and a half. We're going into the wind and traveling a bit slower than I thought." He turned to study Feyre, "How are you doing? I'm willing to pull double-duty if you need a break."

"I'll make it," she promised.

"You sure? You've never done a long haul like this before. It's a whole different kind of flying."

Feyre just shrugged (then winced) and stepped up to Varian's side, "Not going to lie, I'm glad we're getting a couple week's break."

"After this I promise we can winnow," Cassian's smile was apologetic, "thank you for humoring me."

Azriel rolled his eyes, "You didn't give us much choice, did you? You just got back from your vacation, yet here you are taking another one."

"As long as nothing bad happens while we're away, a group trip sounds like a lot of fun." Lucien smiled brightly.

Reflexively, many in the group looked to Elain for confirmation.

She sighed, "Well, Cassian said I'd be dead to him if I looked at anything regarding this trip or where we're going, but Velaris will be fine, the Hewn City will be its usual horrible self, and no other Courts are looking at Night right now- including those wretched human queens. So… Best I can tell, it'll be all fun and games… If that's what it's supposed to be." She shrugged.

Cassian was being obstinately cryptic about this entire trip. No one even knew where they were going or how long it would take when they set out this morning. All they knew for sure was that Cassian said no luggage was needed and Nesta was already wherever they were going preparing lunch for the group.

"If we're running slow, do you need me to pass along an updated arrival time?" Rhys dunked his entire head in the river before asking the question.

"No, we factored in buffer time before the meal." Cassian smiled.

"Any hints? We're close- please?" Mor took a drink.

"No hints." He shook his head firmly. Cassian had never put so much effort into keeping a secret as he did this one. It was impressive- but still monumentally annoying.

No one in their party tried anything else to wring information out of Cassian. They'd been trying for three months- ever since he set the date for this vacation. He conspired only with Nesta, and the two of them were an impenetrable vault. All the others knew was that they had to be ready to go bright and early, the Illyrians (and Feyre) would be flying, and the rest would have to be carried. Cassian wouldn't even give them enough information to winnow to this secret place.

"We're on the border of Lord Eredem and Ilkin's territories," Rhys scratched his head and pointed south, "or at least, if we go about twenty miles that way we will be."

In the five years she'd been High Lady of Night, Feyre had made a point of developing a decent mental map of her territory. She stilldidn't know quite where Tamlin's estate was in Spring, and she'd been there for half a year in all. The geography of the Night Court was something she'd studied from basic topography all the way down to who owned which land.

She felt Rhys slip into the antechamber of her mind where that map of Night was currently settled. She put a red pin where she thought they might be, and he adjusted it only slightly. They were in a sort of no-man's land of the Illyrian Steppes- unclaimed territory.

"Cassian?" Rhys frowned, "Are we going into the spirit camps?"

"Yes." Cassian flashed him a thumbs-up.

"Spirit camps?" Varian waited until Amren had her fill of water before he stepped away from the river and released whatever hold he'd taken on the current. The sound of running water increased exponentially as the uppermost layer of the water picked up speed once more.

Azriel actually looked impressed that Cassian was taking the group into that mysterious territory, "The Illyrians believe the souls of the dead who don't move on into the afterlife have their own land on the northern edges of the steppes. 'Spirit camps' are exactly what they sound like. Their existence has never been verified, but all the northern camps claim to have seen them in the distance, and plenty of Illyrians sent to investigate strange lights or mysterious voices have been found dead from apparently nothing at all."

"Save it for tonight," Cassian patted him on the shoulder with a grin, "I love a good ghost story."

"I don't," Elain shivered. Lucien instinctively moved to his wife's side and surrounded her in a cocoon of warm air.

"How much risk is in this journey?" Varian had long since given up trying to read the Illyrian's faces for signs of danger. They seemed to enjoy running headfirst into any manner of trouble. Besides, Cassian had a bit of a reputation in Summer.

Any time Varian caught himself thinking of the male as nothing more than the group's comic relief, he remembered the ruined building in Adriata and the sheer death on his face when he led the Illyrian legions against Hybern. A male like that wasn't afraid of anything a rational faerie would consider dangerous. Risk though- Cassian at least understood that word.

"No risk at all," Cassian promised, "and I mean that in your sense of it. It'll be a ghost-free trip."

Everyone looked to Elain, who paused for effect but didn't bother touching her power, "I don't feel like there is any threat against us."

"If anything goes wrong, I'll call Bryaxis," Feyre said.

"Why are you friends with that thing?" At the mention of his arch-enemy, Cassian paled.

"Cassian, it's been five years since he started talking to us, how are you still scared of him?" Feyre rolled her eyes.

"HE. TRIED. TO. EAT. ME."

"Once. One time."

"YEAH, WHICH IS WHY I'M NOT A FAN!"

Rhys bit back his laugh and looked to Cassian with his most stern expression possible, "He said he'd be willing to apologize if you'd just visit."

"HE'LL APOLOGIZE, THEN EAT MY LIVER!"

"At least he'll apologize first though."

"It's a losing battle," Lucien shook his head, "and I don't know about you all, but I'm feeling a bit peckish. Maybe we should just head wherever we're going?" It was a lie, but with only a little grumbling Cassian nodded and the group divided once more.

In truth, ever since the spirit camps were mentioned Elain had been weary, and he could feel that fear whispering down their mating bond. She shot him a relieved half-smile and squeezed his fingers.

The Illyrians waved over their wing-less cargo, and Rhysand did indeed take Varian and Lucien. Feyre missed the subtle look between Cassian and Azriel- but Mor tracked it, and the twitch of her eyes told Feyre something was afoot.

"I get Elain, don't baby me," she said.

Cassian had an arm out to pull Elain and Amren in, but he froze, "I wanted to race Rhysand, he won't put money on it if we don't have two each."

Azriel rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Cassian? That's the best lie you could come up with?"

"You didn't exactly give me time," he snapped.

"Feyre, we don't mind the extra weight, and you've never tried this distance carrying another person. You made it most of the way- don't strain yourself." As Feyre's flight tutor, Azriel was in the best position to get her to agree. Five years into their training and she was doing pretty well, but they didn't have enough time to prepare her body for the added weight of a second person.

Feyre waved an unsure Elain over, "I made it this far, and I'm fine. I'm going all the way and if I overdo it then I'll have two weeks to recover and can winnow back to Velaris anyways."

What if I ask you to let them help? Rhys whispered in her mind.

I can do this.

I know you can, I do. I just don't want to see you hurt yourself. I have plans for you tonight. He winked at her.

Truthfully, Feyre wasn't entirely sure she could make it another hour and a half. Her wings were exhausted, and her muscles beginning to cramp. However, every time they stopped for a break the Illyrians shuffled around which of them was carrying two. One passenger each would have been simple work for the males, two wouldn't be difficult over a shorter distance, but even sharing the extra weight, it was beginning to take its toll.

Feyre couldn't look at the males straining themselves and not do anything to help. Besides, Cassian had been taking this trip every couple of days for the last week to help Nesta prepare. He had to be exhausted.

Elain stood on Feyre's toes and waited while her sister lashed their bodies together with magic. She wrapped her arms around Feyre's shoulders and before the males could argue with her any further, Feyre launched into the air and headed towards those distant mountains. Cassian flashed her an apologetic smile as he blasted past to lead the way.

I asked them to do that, Rhys brushed a phantom kiss to her lips, please don't be angry.

I'm not angry, just disappointed and frustrated that I'm not helping share more of the load.

If it helps lighten your mood, would you like me to show you what I'm going to do to you tonight? A few images flickered through Feyre's mind of Rhys' face between her legs.

Only if you want me to do the same. You don't mind flying with two males and an erection, right?

"Rhys is smiling," Mor called out from Azriel's arms, "if you two are being gross- knock it off."

Rhys raised a large bubble of air around the group so that they could speak as they flew, "Just a little harmless teasing Mor."

"She's just grumpy because her lover couldn't make it." Cassian laughed. Amren flicked a sensitive spot on his wing in a very unfriendly way, "Ow! Evil little pest, not while I'm flying!"

Mor wasn't bothered by Cassian's taunt, she just rolled her eyes, "While I'm overwhelmingly grateful you all have been so supportive, we're just not ready for you all to meet yet."

"What does that mean?! We're delightful!" Cassian turned his body just enough so that he could see Mor in Azriel's arms.

"You're also insane and she's shy."

Azriel snickered and Feyre bit back her smile.

Mor had been so worried about how the males would respond to her longest-kept secret… only to find out they'd guessed long ago. Hell, Rhysand apparently had been conspiring with Rita to fix Mor up with different females over the past few centuries. Mor was a different fae entirely with her secret out in the open at long last- one who was happier, brighter, and more self-assured than ever before.

It wasn't until they all saw her without the weight of that secret that they realized what kind of toll it had been taking on her their entire lives. Mor had cried as she told them- just as she'd cried with Feyre- and braced herself for rage or dismissal. Instead, They'd each offered her a hug and apologized profusely for anything they may have done by word or deed to make her feel as though she couldn't tell them.

Azriel, the one Mor was most worried about, had pulled her into a tight hug and simply said, "All I will ever want is to see you happy. I don't care who that is with, as long as they are worthy of you." His words only made Mor cry harder, and ever since that day everything had changed between them.

Somehow, knowing there wasn't even the hint of a possibility of a chance something might begin between them also seemed to lift a weight off Azriel's shoulders. He didn't look at Mor with that aching love in his eyes, and the two seemed more relaxed around one another. They could joke and laugh more openly, and even when Mor announced just a few months ago that she had begun a relationship with a mysterious female he'd only smiled all the brighter.

Mor was so frightened of how they would handle her revelation, and even though they each had already guessed her truth, the entire Inner Circle was closer from that day on.

"Is your lady-suitor anyone we know?" Lucien asked.

Mor chewed on her lip, "Maybe. I'm not saying." She poked Azriel in the ribs, "What about your mystery female? Is she anyone we know?"

"Maybe. I'm not saying," he said. Whoever she was, he'd been seeing her for some time, since before Mor came out to the Inner Circle.

"I thought we were brothers!" Cassian snapped.

Azriel shrugged as best he could, "You're insane and she's shy."

Mor cackled.

They'd flown in relative silence most of the morning, but on this final leg the group laughed and joked. They were all excited for whatever Cassian had planned, and even Elain and Varian joined in the fun. It made the Illyrians, and Feyre, forget the burning in their muscles as they flew with that unaccustomed weight.

Still, Feyre's arms were beginning to tremble when she felt something in the distance- a wall starting on the side of a jagged mountain surrounded by dense forests. The sensation was eerily familiar, and as they drew closer, the rest of the group fell into silence.

"Cassian," Rhys' voice was low, "why does it feel like we're approaching Velaris?"

"Did he just trick us into going in some giant circle?" Varian looked ahead to Amren.

"No," Azriel frowned, "we're nowhere near Velaris. We're nowhere near anything."

Feyre cast her power out in all directions. Azriel was right- there were beasts in the mountains, probably more than a few monsters, but no sign of faerie or Illyrian life.

"You moved Velaris warding stones?" Rhysand asked.

"Don't get mad until you see why. Actually- do the thing." Cassian glanced back.

"What thing?" Feyre looked to Rhys.

"You promised you would do it, no questions asked."

Rhysand sighed, bit back whatever he wanted to ask Cassian, and projected his voice to Feyre and Azriel, "Keep flying in a straight line. You'll see a dot of light to help you stay on track. Amren, it's just a blindfold, we'll all have them on too. Cassian- if you make any of us crash into anything I'll bury you in a shallow grave."

"As long as you leave flowers every now and then." Cassian grinned as Rhysand released his magic, covering everyone's eyes with an impenetrable black mist. Amren closed her own eyes as the fog settled over them, and Cassian felt a guiding tether secure to his body. Wherever he flew, they would be directed to follow.

"We're not too far out, I promise." He called back. No one replied.

Tired as she was, being sealed in near-complete darkness didn't do anything to help Feyre's strength. The laughing and joking made this last leg of their journey pass quickly, but now no one seemed to wantto speak. She heard the flapping of wings, Azriel and Rhysand's hard breathing, and even felt the parting of air behind Cassian, but no one broke the silence. Elain was by no means afraid of flying, but in the darkness she tightened her grip on her sister.

That distant pressure kept growing, but none of the flying members of the Inner Circle were particularly concerned with shields. They'd each flown in and out of Velaris enough to know that the pressure was nothing more than a way to ward off outsiders until the High Lord or Lady could approve their entry. Elain whimpered into Feyre's neck and trembled.

They flew hard and fast for the barrier, and just as Feyre began to wonder if she would need another break after all, they hit it and passed through.

"Adjust for warm!" Cassian called out. Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel altered the angle of their bodies as temperature and humidity abruptly shifted. The scent of pine was thick wherever they were, and in the distance Feyre could hear the sound of water falling into either a lake or pond.

The smell of wood was different as they flew into wherever they were. The forest scents mingled with a sharp oak, cedar, and ash smell- something bitter-edged that spoke of freshly cut wood. Birds sang in distant trees, and Feyre felt a shadow of something in the ground below. It felt almost like-

"Whatever this place is, it was created by the Cauldron," Cassian called back. "I think it was meant for us- for all of us."

That magic- it was pure, raw life surrounding them. Under the Mountain was supposed to be where the Cauldron's power flowed into the world, the apex of creation. This place- it could have been where all that creation ended up. Not in some bald, barren mountain, but hidden deep in the Night Court itself.

"Land in ten seconds, there's plenty of room, but Feyre- don't forget to plant your feet. You've got Elain on you." Cassian called back to them, then his voice boomed across whatever water was beneath them, "NESTA! WE'RE HERE!"

"What the hell did you do to them?" Nesta's voice was distant, but they were closing in fast.

"I wanted to make sure you saw their faces too. Aanndd- LAND! Smooth, hard surface!"

Instead of gliding onto the ground and jogging the last few steps, Feyre angled her wings sharply and dropped the last few inches straight down. With Elain strapped to her she couldn't walk, so she severed the binds and helped her sister aside. Feyre put her hands on her knees and panted. She was utterly exhausted.

"Keep the wings out a bit," Azriel ordered as though he could see Feyre tucking her wings tight to rest them, "you need the muscles to cool down properly. Tucking them in will just make them cramp."

Rhys' hand found her in the darkness, and he helped his wife to stand straight, "I'm proud of you." His lips brushed her cheek.

"Alright everyone, before Rhys drops the blindfolds, please face my voice." The group shifted on what felt to be a tile floor. Feyre heard the soft padding of Nesta's feet as she came to her husband's side. "Azriel and Rhys- do you two remember when I got lost in that blizzard?"

"Which one?" Rhys and Azriel spoke simultaneously.

"When you had to send a beacon up for me to find my way home?"

"Which time?" Again, they were in sync.

Cassian's voice carried a definite edge to it, "When I bet Az I could fly back in that storm? And I couldn't?"

"Which time?"

"Fine! Assholes." Cassian growled, "Three hundred years ago I got lost in a storm-"

"-which time three hundred years ago?"

"AZRIEL AND RHYSAND, TAKE THREE STEPS BACK." Cassian snapped.

Feyre heard them move and-

"SON OF A WHORE!" there were twin splashes and Rhysand bellowed as he and Azriel fell backwards into water. Lucien, Varian, Mor, and Feyre burst out in laughter at the sputtering and curses hurled by the two males.

They also each took a few steps forward.

Feyre could hear the smile in Cassian's voice, "As I was saying. Three hundred years ago I got lost in a storm. The magic in this place guided me here, and I spent those cold days under the shelter of the trees. I wanted it to be my secret, then I decided it should be ours."

Cassian waited until Rhys and Azriel pulled themselves out of the water. Feyre could hear them both growling.

"You can release the spell."

Rhysand obeyed with a snarl, then went utterly silent. Light flooded Feyre's eyes, but they adjusted quickly enough. When she could stand to open them-

"Cauldron," Mor whispered.

A large wooden house rose in front of them, the entire front of which was made up of windows. Balconies jutted out from the second floor, large enough to accommodate several Illyrians taking off or landing. Another balcony lined up with the edge of the roof, offering an alternative if the others were busy.

The ground they'd landed on was actually a tile porch that extended out over the lake. It was dotted with patio chairs and edged in a rail on most sides- Rhys and Azriel having fallen off the back. When Feyre turned to look around them she put a hand over her mouth.

Six identical cabins spanned the shore of the most beautiful lake she'd ever seen. The sapphire water was impossibly blue, and the distant waterfall forked as it poured out of the mountains. Each cabin had a large gathering space between them. Feyre marked sparring rings, training grounds, an obstacle course, large group dining area, and a massive bonfire- fully stocked with wood.

"I built Rhys', Azriel's, and ours bit by bit- and the group areas. Amren's was half-done when I brought Nesta here. Over the last five years we finished Amren's and built Mor's and Elain's." Cassian pointed to each cabin as he spoke, excited. "We made everything ourselves- right down to the furniture inside and out. The only stuff we bought were the foods in your store rooms, the linens, some hobby stuff- you'll see- and dishes. If it's wood, we made it."

"Cassian," Rhys stepped towards his brother, but his eyes were transfixed on the scene around them, "you did all of this?"

Even Amren was stunned, and she looked at Cassian as though he were some entirely new creature.

"You're probably going to want to go over the housekeeping spells, I don't think I got them quite right, but," Cassian shrugged. His grin went from ear-to-ear, and Nesta was beaming with pride at her mate.

Mor pulled them both into a hug first, then the others stepped up. Lucien held back with sheer wonder on his face, "You- for us too?"

"The whole family." Cassian nodded. He knew Lucien had never really been part of a family before, so once the male had proven himself trustworthy they'd become good friends.

"Shit Cass," Azriel forgot to be angry over his soaking clothes. He gave his friend a hug, but only held a hand out to Nesta to protect her from the water that was still dripping, "This is incredible."

"Wait until you see the inside of your cabin, each one is different- done to everyone's taste." Nesta smiled brighter than any of them had seen since the day she married Cassian, "I wasn't great at making furniture, but decorating was always a strong suit. Oh, and everyone has plenty of clothes to choose from, if you want to clean up before lunch." She cast an apologetic eye to Rhysand and Azriel's soaking clothes.

Mor was gaping, "Wait, let me get this straight. Not only did you two build us each a house, we also get whole new wardrobes?"

"How much do I pay you?" Rhys looked again at the cabins around them.

"More than you should, but actually this is all courtesy of Kier." Nesta said.

Everyone but Cassian froze, "What?" Feyre took a step back, suddenly weary of the paradise around them, "Did you say-"

"Four years ago, when we were in the Court of Nightmares, Kier approached me with an offer. He pulled the whole 'you must be sick of your little sister ruling you' thing, said he and I should rule together, and offered to pay handsomely for reports of the Inner Circle's actions and affairs to be used to capture or kill you all later." Nesta smile broadly, "I've sent him a new fiction every week since, and he responds in gold. Oh- if your father asks Mor, you're having affairs with four Illyrian Lords, Elain- you're cheating on Lucien with Azriel, and Lucien is actually impotent. Oh! Feyre- you and Rhys fight constantly."

Azriel opened his mouth, but Nesta cut him off, "I only told him things that are completely false. Don't worry, there are copies of all correspondences in your cabin for you to examine. Kier was talking long-term spying, for fae I figured that meant it was safe to keep quiet until the cabins were done. We can kill him later." She smiled innocently.

Mor put her hands over her heart once more, stunned, "Is it my birthday?"

Feyre let out a nervous laugh, "You're scarier than I've given you credit for Nesta. I'm glad you're on our side." She pulled her into a hug.

Nesta held her tightly, "I spent the first nineteen years of your life being a sorry excuse for a big sister. I'll never make that mistake again. You can boss me around all you want for as long as you want, I don't mind one bit. We're only alive because of you."

"You've given us the greatest gift possible," Mor pushed Feyre aside to hug Nesta, "another excuse to kill my father."

"I thought you'd like that."

"Very much, yes."

Cassian beamed as he accepted his hug from Mor, "We've been calling it your 'moving in present'."

Nesta thought her heart might burst as she felt Cassian's pure, unbridled joy shining through their mating bond. This was what he'd been working towards for three hundred years, and the looks on their faces was everything he'd ever hoped for.

"I want a tour! Right now!" Rhysand was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

"YES! Me too!" Elain grinned.

Cassian looked from Nesta to the group as others chimed in demanding tours of their cabins. He was excited, but he hadn't exactly planned this part, "Absolutely! But- okay, each cabin is pretty different on the inside. So… which one do I show-"

"Start on one end, take us through them all." Amren ordered. When the others looked to her she shrugged, "What? I'm nosey. I want to see." The truth, which the others picked up on quickly enough, was that Cassian was so proud of his work it was the only gift they could give him in return: letting him show off each and every home, and see the reactions of those who would live there.

"All in favor?" Rhys raised his hand. Everyone followed suit, "Full tours of all the cabins! Nesta- is that alright with-"

"Lunch is fine whenever, don't worry." She smiled broadly. Actually, she'd burned part and needed Cassian's help to start over. She wasn't the cook of the two, but since Cassian had to fly the others to the lake she'd ended up with the task of preparing lunch.

Cassian led them through each and every cabin with a wild grin on his face that only grew each time they complemented his work and admired how perfectly suited each and every cabin was to the couple he'd made them for.

Elain and Lucien's was done with pale yellow walls and shining honey-oak furniture. A large (and empty) herb garden wrapped around the side of the house with all the tools and supplies Elain would need to plant it exactly as she wished. The sitting room was overflowing with books on botany, recipe collections, and a healthy section of war epics that Lucien was practically addicted to. Cassian had built a small forge in the back, stocked with everything Lucien needed to make simple blades. It was a hobby he'd taken up in Spring that drew him into the blacksmithing quarters of Velaris at least once a week.

The master bed had been carved to look as though it was growing out of the floor itself, and as the Inner Circle filed out to see the rest of the upstairs, Cassian nudged Elain and Lucien and showed them the hidden buckles and loops for their decidedly sinful nighttime fun. He patted both on the shoulder and they filed from the room, red-faced.

Mor's cabin was done solely to her taste with gilded furniture and thick scarlet rugs covering the floors. The wine cellar was stocked with her favorites from the vinyards around Velaris- the greatest selection being from a vineyard Azriel himself owned.

Her closet was the most difficult for Nesta to fill. She'd gone from shop to shop in Velaris, the Hewn City, and snuck into a few other courts looking for something that screamed "Morrigan", all with no luck. In the end she'd reached out to Viviane, High Lady of Winter, and Abra, the Governess of the Palace of Thread and Jewels in Velaris. Abra had come up with a dozen new designs just for Mor, and Viviane had sent a few people winnowing to the human realm to find new fashions that her friend would enjoy. Evidently the selection pleased Mor- when they finished the tour of her cabin she stayed behind in her closet to try on everything.

Next was Rhysand and Feyre's cabin. This one was outfitted with special fae lights angled towards the walls to illuminate artwork Feyre would one day hang. A few pieces that Feyre thought she'd painted for Nesta and Cassian were already on the walls- landscapes of Velaris as viewed from the sea. All the books in their cabin were a mix of epic adventures and sultry romances- anything Nesta had noticed Feyre reading. A specially enchanted desk covered most of one wall in the study and was linked to Rhysand's desk in Velaris. Whatever he might need to work on, he'd be able to summon it in an instant. Most of Rhysand's hobbies were based outdoors, and the group spaces held plenty of sports equipment to keep him entertained.

Cassian and Nesta's cabin was simple and homey- and by far the most lived-in. It had served as Cassian's base of operations as he built the rest of the complex, and most of the books inside were still devoted to everything construction.

Before he married Nesta, Cassian had cleaned out one of his planning rooms and converted it into a little office for her. Inside were five bookcases full of designs, rough sketches, paint samples, and wood stain chips relevant to specific cabins. She blocked the book cases marked "Amren" and "Azriel" from sight as best she could.

No surprises would be ruined.

Azriel's cabin was dark- his curtains all black-out ones and he had fewer windows than the others (though the entire lake-facing side of the home was still glass). Silk sheets hung from the ceilings throughout and rich blue rugs embroidered in silver cushioned every step. The home was full of shadows and dark corners, and it had fewer open spaces than any of the others. At first, Nesta had been apprehensive about creating such structured chaos in the design, but Azriel's face lit up like nothing she'd ever seen before. He took one step inside his new home and exploded into pure shadow that seemed to dance throughout, as though he were sampling every last scrap of darkness.

When his form solidified once more, he was breathless with excitement. "This is nicer than the House of Wind," he grinned broadly. "And I can winnow, so I can just live here all the time if I want!" Cassian laughed and clapped his friend on the back.

Amren and Varian's cabin was the most difficult for Nesta to design, and in the end she had to reach out to Tarquin for help. Sea-glass mosaics filled the base of all the washroom tubs, and delicately painted tile served as baseboards and framing on the arched doors. Mother-of-pearl tile covered the floor beneath hand woven rugs that looked like clouds or seafoam. As much sea-themed décor as she'd filled their home with, she put just as much pearl inside in a nod to Amren.

Nesta tried not to study the little fae's face too much, but she was mildly terrified. Her apartment in Velaris looked like nothing more than a vessel to contain and shelter her, with very little to indicate Amren's personal style. She'd acted largely on guess work of what her friend might like. Amren shook her head and turned to Nesta, "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life." Varian could only nod, open-mouthed.

When everyone at last went off to their own cabins to clean up and change, Cassian was practically skipping hand-in-hand with his giddy wife.

"I can't believe they did all of this," Feyre shook her head. She walked back to the cabin with a hand over her heart and Rhys' arm on her shoulder.

"It's incredible." He agreed.

"How long have you known about it?" She nudged him, "Your performance was perfect, but I know you."

He snorted, then put a shield of air around them just in case Cassian had doubled back for any reason, "It wasn't entirely an act… I knew the second he touched the Velaris ward stones three hundred years ago. I followed him out here a few times and waited to see what he was doing. When I realized he was building something, I stopped coming. I figured it was his job to tell me when he wanted to."

Feyre stood on the tips of her toes to kiss Rhysand's cheek, "You're a good brother."

"I know, I'm pretty damn special," he said.

"'Special', 'wet', 'stinky'." Feyre shrugged, "Really a lot applies to you."

"Well, my darling mate, you smell like a wonderful-"

"-be honest-"

"-ly sweaty fae in desperate need of a shower." Rhys waved a hand in front of his face, "Cauldron boil me, you stink. Wow, my eyes are watering right now. You know, I might be going blind from the stench alone."

Feyre laughed and shoved Rhys as hard as she could. Either through her abilities or because he was in a good mood, Rhys went sailing foot-over-head into the lake once more.

When he surfaced only far enough for Feyre to see those violet eyes lock on her, she screamed at the mischief in them and took off running for their cabin at top speed. If her wings weren't so damn tired, she'd have flown.

Rhys burst out of the water, his wings re-formed behind him, and just as Feyre got a finger on the door, he snatched her up and shot up into the sky. When they were even with the cabin roof he dropped her straight into the middle of the lake.

She hit the water hard- but a cushion of air he threw around her back kept her wings from being jarred too much. Still, when she tried to breach the surface of the lake, her wings just kept pulling her back in. Amusement shifted towards panic as Feyre tried to kick and her curved wings filled with water. She gained less than an inch, and the surface was still far above.

Her stolen power from Summer thrashed in her veins, but it was more attune to salt water than fresh, and in her growing fear it wasn't exactly responding. A bubble of air formed around her mouth as the darkness closed in.

Relax. Rhysand commanded softly. Stop moving I'll show you what to do.

His voice in her mind, more even than the oxygen he'd supplied, calmed that frightened piece of her soul. Feyre obeyed and she felt his power circling her wings. Slowly, it pushed against them until they were stretched out awkwardly behind her. It felt odd and unnatural, but when Feyre kicked her legs the magic shifted the wings slightly so that just the ends swayed in the water behind her, aiding her movement.

A ripple went through her wings, less of a full flap and more of a roll. Feyre gave a few hard jerks in that strange position before she managed to replicate the round way in which she had to shift her wings. When she got it right, the effect was immediate. Feyre shot through the water for the surface, broke free of the water, and actually managed to rise a few feet in the air- enough for her to suddenly snap her wings around again and take off.

It was awkward, something pulled in her left shoulder, but she was free.

And pissed.

"RHYSAND! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Rhys was nowhere to be seen.

Azriel stood on the balcony of his cabin with raised eyebrows, "I wouldn't have suggested learning to swim like that." Amusement danced in his eyes.

Feyre flipped him off and shot for the cabin. She was going to rip Rhysand apart for that little stunt (even if she was the one who started it).

She landed on the balcony hard and only the magic embedded in the house kept her from ripping the door off its hinges as she entered. The upper sitting room was empty, but Feyre followed Rhys' scent to their bedroom, then through it and into the bathing room.

He was sitting innocently in the large marble tub. When Feyre entered he slapped an arm over his nipples, forced a loofa beneath the water to cover his crotch, and gasped, "Feyre! A little privacy would be nice!"

"Prick." She spat.

Rhysand only smirked and dropped the scandalized act, "Turnabout is fair play. And besides- I wouldn't let you come to any harm. You could have dropped the wings any time."

Feyre's cheeks heated- he was right, and it was the one thing she hadn't thought of in her mild panic, "That's beside the point!"

"Just remember: if you kill me, you won't get to enjoy it for long." He held up his tattooed arm and smiled.

"You've never been so-"

"Handsome? Sexy? Desireable?" Rhysand purred.

"Punchable." Feyre said. Rhys pouted, which only made her snort, "Oh wait, it's even more tempting now."

"My mate hates me that much. Sigh."

"You're asking for it, aren't you?"

Rhysand laughed at last and- dammit- a half-smile crept onto Feyre's face, "Would my mate allow me to bathe her to make up for my completely immature behavior? I mean, throwing someone in a lake- that's just childish, base, undignified, and downright idiotic."

Feyre growled a warning, but began to tug her wet clothes off all the same. Rhysand swallowed hard when her shirt came off. His eyes were locked on her breasts with predatory focus- at least until she pulled her pants down. Then he didn't know where to look. He licked his lips.

She stepped down into the tub, moaning at the delicious heat of the water. Her muscles were beginning to ache from the exhausting flight, and her shoulders felt suddenly stiff. She'd carried Mor most of the journey, then Elain. Neither female was exactly light, especially when it took so much more effort to keep them both in the air.

"Put the wings away for a little bit," Rhysand murmured, "you've cooled down enough."

Without a second thought, they vanished in black mist. Feyre glared at Rhysand as she walked over to him. He put his hands on her hips and turned her slowly so that her back was to him, then tugged her down into the water. Feyre groaned as that heat completely enveloped her.

Rhysand held her against his chest, arms wrapped around her stomach, and rested his forehead on her shoulder, "Am I really in trouble?" A hint of genuine worry lit his voice.

"It depends on how good the bath is," she murmured, then leaned her head back to kiss his temple. "I'll get my revenge later if need be."

"I look forward to it." Rhysand kissed just behind Feyre's ear. He hesitated, then huffed, "You're cold."

"Someone put me in a lake… After I threw them in."

"Oh, you're acknowledging that now?" he laughed, then picked up the loofa from where it floated. He held it over the back half of Feyre's head and gently squeezed hot water onto her scalp. Goosebumps rose across her skin, and Rhysand smiled as she let out a long breath of air.

Their bath wasn't sexual- both knew if they started that up they'd be late to lunch. Rhys simply enjoyed the feeling of his mate against his skin, and the happy little noises she made as he massaged shampoo into her scalp and rubbed some of the building ache from her shoulders. Feyre turned on his lap and straddled his hips to wash his hair, and Rhysand buried his face between her breasts, enjoying them while she worked.

"Am I forgiven, o sensitive one?" Feyre laughed.

Rhys reached up to give one nipple a friendly pinch as he nodded, face still planted, "Am I forgiven?" his voice was muffled and he sucked on a bit of skin at the inner edge of one breast.

"For now… But once I finish rinsing you off, we do need to get out of the bath. You're going to have to let me go sometime." She adjusted her power to take hold of the water in the tub- glared at how much easier it was now than in the lake- and directed a stream to pour over Rhysand's head until every last bubble was washed away.

"All done?" he asked her chest.

"All done. Now let me go so I can stand up."

Rhys grunted something that sounded like "Nuh-uh" and shook his head. He adjusted his arms around her torso so that her breasts were more firmly pushed against his cheeks.

"Can you even breathe now?" Feyre raised an eyebrow.

"Nuh-uh." He grunted again and stood. Feyre laughed as Rhys carried her blindly from the tub. He kept shaking his head, rubbing his eyes against her breasts. Rhys made happy little noises for a while, then stopped beside the vanity. He sighed, whimpered a little, and at last set Feyre down.

Rhysand took an exaggerated gasp of air before looking at her breasts, "Goodbye, my loves." He gave a kiss to each nipple, then grinned at Feyre, "The face is my favorite part."

She kissed him with her eyes open and her hands on her hips, which only made Rhys break down in laugher when he stepped back. Feyre lost the ability to control her expression and in the end they were laughing together.

"You're a child." She said at last. Rhys only giggled again.

He went off to the closet to fetch some lightweight clothing- linen pants that came only to his knees and a loose shirt. He passed Feyre some suspiciously conservative underclothes and a long, breezy dress, "Swimming clothes," he explained. "The dress is for lunch, then you strip, the males lose their shirts, and we all go into the lake."

Feyre held up the garments. They were a strange fabric, stretchy, and seemed designed to hug her body and stay put, no matter what. Rhys pouted as she pulled the top half on and her breasts were covered.

"Wait!" Rhys panicked when Feyre bent down to pull on her underpants. She straightened and he dove for her legs. On his knees, Rhys wrapped his arms around her hips and gave a kiss to her mound, "I didn't forget about you darling." He kissed her again as she rolled her eyes, "I'll see you later."

"Are you done? Can I get dressed?"

Rhys grabbed her hips and spun Feyre around. He kissed each side of her rear, "Ok, I've said my farewells."

Feyre just shook her head and pulled up the bottoms. Rhys sighed and stood, "Three hundred and twenty eight days."

"What?"

"Until our anniversary week." Rhys nodded to himself, "Three hundred and twenty eight days… I think I can survive."

She snorted and sat down at the vanity to comb her hair. On the anniversary of their mating each year they spent a week all alone, usually at the palace atop the Hewn City (since the House of Wind was still Azriel's primary residence). During that week of passionate sex to rival their mating itself, the house rules were simple: No clothes. Rhysand and Feyre were still as giddy and in love as they had been ten years before- and they would be like that their entire lives- but something about that week was special. Everything was heightened, everything felt stronger, as though the mating bond itself were celebrating too.

"I suppose when it rolls around again we could come here, if no one else is around." Feyre mused.

"That would be very nice. I've been wanting to go to the cabin we mated in but the others voted on that stupid rule." The couples who were mated in the Inner Circle- Feyre and Rhysand, Cassian and Nesta, and Elain and Lucien- were not allowed to turn any space used by the group into their mating nest. Group spaces remained for the group. Somehow the townhouse had been lumped into that, though bedrooms were exempt from the rule.

Feyre braided half of her hair from above one ear, across her forehead, and ended with a long plait that fell down her shoulder. It would keep everything out of her face, but still let the rest flow freely.

When she turned around, Rhysand had mimicked her style with his own hair. "Am I pretty too?" he winked.

She burst out laughing and he released the glamour on his normally styled hair, "You're in a good mood today," she wheezed when she could speak.

"I'm in one of the most beautiful places in the world, given to us by one of my best friends in the world, and with the most incredible female ever to exist." He sighed happily and bent to pull up his swimming shorts.

"Wait-" Feyre slid to her knees. Rhys grinned as she lifted his cock and wrapped her lips around the tip. She brushed the tip of her tongue across the head and slipped away from it, "You're my favorite part," she whispered, then kissed it simply and stood, "All done."

He grinned, "Oh no, by all means, take your time. Who am I to stand in the way of love? You two should talk some more, really catch up."

Feyre surged forward and claimed her husband's mouth with hers. She wrapped her hand around his cock and began to pump it, slid her other hand to the tender edge of his wing where he was most sensitive. Rhys' entire body flinched into her touch and he held her tight.

With a simple maneuver, Feyre dropped down and slid out of his embrace. She left Rhysand breathless and stumbling, "There. Now we're even. Have fun talking him down." She shot a look at the risingconsequence of her sudden attack.

Rhysand gaped at her, then down at his cock. He whipped a drop of precum from the tip and held it up, "Look at this! You made him cry!"

"I'll make him bawl later." She fluttered her lashes and pulled her dress on.

"Cruel, wicked little monster."

"Hurry up, lunch will be ready any second." Feyre left Rhysand with a mix of indignation and amusement on his face. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind her she let a giggle escape.

Ten minutes later Rhysand came out, nipped her ear with a growl, and they wandered down for lunch.

"Was that you I heard scream, or Rhysand?" Mor was the first one in the dining area, but the Inner Circle were all wandering over at their own pace. She had a gauzy scarlet wrap-around dress on beneath which her gold swim clothes were just barely visible. Her hair was tightly coiled and Feyre had a feeling she'd be the one to watch out for when everyone was in the water.

"He threw her in the lake, and she's never tried swimming with wings." Azriel crossed his arms and studied Feyre and Rhysand's body language. When he decided their stance meant there was no trouble in paradise, he relaxed.

Elain and Lucien wandered over, her arm in his, and looked like a proper couple out for a stroll. Her lilac dress and carefully styled hair told Feyre she wasn't planning on joining them in the water. Lucien had the same shorts on as the other males, and he kept glancing at the water as though he was tempted to dive in now.

"Rhysand, don't be horrible." Elain rolled her eyes.

He grinned, "I'm always horrible."

"That's the truth." Amren and Varian arrived next- both wearing only their swim clothes and not bothering with any sort of cover-up.

"Oy! Rhys, help bring the food over." Cassian shouted from the porch of his cabin. Rhysand sent his magic towards his friend, found the outline of several large platters, and he winnowed them onto the long table.

Azriel's eyes went wide as he saw what Nesta (and Cassian) had made. He was the first to sit down and grab what Feyre thought was some kind of towel rolled up on top of the platters. Dozens of them were neatly rolled and stacked in little pyramids, but when Rhys grabbed one to set it in front of her she was hit by a slightly spicy aroma.

They weren't towels- they were large disks of a sponge-like bread, thin as a pancake but filled with tiny pockets of air. Rhys shoved his entire roll into his mouth and grabbed another. He nudged Feyre and nodded encouragement. She tore off a corner of hers and tasted it. There was a spice to it she couldn't place, but beyond that it wasn't too different from sourdough bread.

"It's called injera, it's an Illyrian thing, and they're all addicted to it." Mor cast a worried look from Rhys to Azriel, in case either choked on the bread they were shoveling into their mouths, "You're supposed to wait for the actual food."

"This is the most important food in the world," Azriel said with utmost sincerity, "I love it more than any of you."

"Same." Rhys nodded.

"Then why have I never seen it before?" Feyre liked Illyrian food, but they rarely ate the complex dishes in the house. It took a long while to prepare, and the spices were difficult if not impossible to find in Velaris. Still- the way the males were shoving it in their faces surprised Feyre.

"Because Cassian is the only one who can make it right and he says if we have it too often we won't appreciate it." Azriel swallowed.

"I've been with you for five years."

"Right," Cassian came up behind her, "so it was time to make it again."

"He makes it for me whenever I ask," Nesta smiled.

They were each carrying massive, heavy platters lined in injera and piled with different shredded meats and pastes. When they set them down, a cacophony of smells warred for Feyre's attention, each more delicious than the next, "The more red it is, the hotter it is. Don't touch the black stuff, Elain. The green is mostly avocado, and the pale stuff is chicken." She sat down across from Cassian and grabbed a tube of bread. Nesta waved a hand and short glasses of cold milk appeared in front of everyone to help with the spices.

"Like this," Rhysand nudged Feyre. He pulled a sliver of injera from his third roll and used it to pinch the thick meat of a red stew. Using the bread just as Feyre would a spoon or fork, he brought the meat to his mouth and ate the entire thing.

Feyre tore off some bread and angled for a paler part of the dish, one less spicy than what Rhys had chosen. She was aware of everyone's eyes on her as she pinched the meat into the bread and took a bite.

It was the most incredible thing she'd ever tasted. The slightly sour flavor of the bread didn't just mix with the sharp spices of the stew- it enhanced them. Cinnamon, cumin, ginger, cardamom, and spices she couldn't even begin to name mixed together in the best ways possible. The meat dissolved in her mouth, lending its taste to the other flavors.

Feyre looked up wide-eyed to see the others grinning.

They launched themselves at the food. Varian was used to softer flavors that accented seafood more, but once he had a taste of the black dish even the Illyrians were eating sparingly, he was in love. No matter how red his face got or how much he was sweating, he refused to even consider the palate-cleansing side of either platter.

"You'd better not make yourself sick," Amren nudged him even as she took her fourth bite in a row of the black dish.

Varian only kissed the tip of her nose before going back to his food.

Mor seemed to favor a slightly orange dish she explained was something akin to chicken curry. Feyre only managed a handful of bites (literally) before the spice forced her towards the avocado. Usually she avoided the green mush like the plague, but she needed something to cool her mouth.

Elain ventured as far as a pale red stew before quickly and emphatically returning to the mild side of the platter.

Lucien only knew Illyrian cooking from the first days after their war with Hybern and the few dishes Cassian had prepared for the group over the years. Still, his tolerance of spice was roughly equal to Rhysand's, so he followed the High Lord around the platter, pushing even his tastebuds to their limits.

Eventually the spice of the injera built up in Feyre's mouth and everything tasted too hot. Content with what she'd eaten, she picked up a glass of milk and downed the entire cup in one go. Mor and Elain finished moments later, with Lucien, Amren, Nesta, and Varian following.

They watched as Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand began some sort of unspoken competition. They kept eating, casting sharp glances to one another all the while. Eventually their breathing became more labored, their swallows harder, and their bites smaller. Still, they would not stop.

Feyre frowned, "Is there some benefit to being the last one to finish? A superstition or something?"

Mor rolled her eyes, "No."

Rhysand and the other two males answered at the same time she did, "Yes."

They ate until even those watching were uncomfortable. Only when Azriel snatched the very last chunk of injera off the bottom of the stew platter were they finished. All three were slightly green, and even as Azriel pumped his fist into the air to signal his victory, his expression was closer to regret.

Nesta sighed and snapped her fingers. The table filled with steaming hot mugs of green tea, "Drink it you idiots, it'll help."

"I have more teff," Cassian moaned to the males. "We're going to have a rematch at the end of week two."

"It's Illyrian for lunch every day," Nesta informed the others. "By the end of it we'll have to winnow back to Velaris. If they keep eating like that only Feyre will still be able to fly."

"That's probably true," Rhysand was completely serious as he drank his tea. "We're safe from Cassian's cooking in Velaris, it's just a pain to get the right spices and winnowing to the camps for ingredients is tedious."

"I planted a spice garden," Cassian smiled. "It's out where I grew the lumber for the cabins, but there's a whole field. The growers guild in Velaris taught me a few spells to make it largely self-managing."

"Oh that's dangerous," Azriel laughed, "now we know how to get more out of you. You're the best cook in the Inner Circle, and the best homebuilder," he raised his mug in a toast. Everyone let out a cheer of agreement as Cassian smiled. "Nesta is the best at designing," he toasted her next.

Mor nodded, "That closet is magical. Where did you find everything?"

"Abra," Nesta smiled, "and Winter has some trading ties with the human lands. Viviane made some inquiries and had some stuff brought back for Abra's people to replicate."

"I assume Tarquin supplied all the shells and sea glass?" Varian asked. Nesta nodded, "What you two did with it is amazing. Don't be surprised if he tries to get you both to help remodel the palace in Adriata."

"I'm sorry, but I have a strict rule when it comes to Summer," Cassian put a hand over his heart, "demolition only."

"Will someone please tell me that story?" Feyre rolled her eyes.

Cassian and Varian looked at one another for a long while before both shook their heads, "Funnier if we don't." Cassian said.

"We'll tell you… On your five-hundredth birthday," Varian smiled.

Tell me. Feyre shot the thought at Rhysand.

He put a hand over his heart and looked scandalized, "Feyre! You would have me dishonor my friendship with these males by betraying their wishes?!"

Cassian gasped, "Feyre?! Traitor!" He pouted, "See if I build youanother house this century."

Lucien snickered into his tea. Elain and Nesta just rolled their eyes. Mor and Amren were nodding along with Cassian's offended act, so Feyre knew they wouldn't be any help.

"Fine. I'll wait." Feyre made a mental note to write Tarquin, Cresseida, and Alis. Cassian and Varian might get to the first two, but Alis was her friend. As a citizen of Summer, she had to know the story of the Night Court monster who destroyed part of the capitol. "Wait- I can't believe I didn't think of this before, but I have a question."

"You can ask, but we won't answer." Varian crossed his arms.

"Cassian was banned from Summer for the incident, and you all thought the Night Court was just a bunch of brutes back then-"

"My actions may have cemented that belief," Cassian took a long drink of tea as though he were proud of himself.

Feyre waved him off, "My question, I guess, is why he didn't get a blood ruby. We just stole a book and Tarquin was ready to kill us. We didn't break anything."

Rhys winced, "I mean, technically the book we stole broke the cauldron and I had to die to fix it, but yeah. Didn't break anything. Sure. It was just a simple book theft."

"You know what I mean," Feyre rolled her eyes.

Varian snickered, "Oh, our father sent him a ruby."

"I sent it back with a note that if they were trying to flirt with me they should send diamonds instead." Cassian earned a round of laughter from everyone at the table- even Amren chuckled at the memory.

"Before that day I didn't even think my father knew how to curse," Varian said.

Cassian patted his shoulder, "You're welcome."

"For what?"

"Helping you get to know your father a little better."

Varian laughed so hard he began to wheeze.

Rhysand laid his head on Feyre's shoulder as the conversation moved on. He was beginning to feel the strain of the flight in and the early morning that came before it- not to mention a very full stomach and the excitement of seeing the lake. He was weary to the bone, but as happy as it was possible to be.

Are you falling asleep, old fart? She whispered to his mind.

Only a little.

Well don't, you still have to teach me how to swim with wings. She sent a pulse of love down their bond, enough to let him know he was obligated to do no such thing. If he was tired, he could rest all he wanted.

"I'm going to sit in one of the lounge chairs," Rhysand announced, straightening up. "I need to streamline my digestion so I can swim and not sink." He looked around at the porches jutting out over the lake. Each of them had long, low wooden chairs that could recline.

"Go sunbathe princess, join us when you're ready." Lucien sketched a mock bow from his seat. Five years, and he finally had the courage to joke with Rhys.

Feyre stood with her mate and stuck out her tongue at the fox, her oldest friend in all of Prythian. She followed Rhysand over to the porch as the others began to strip away their cover-ups. Elain moved to Cassian's porch and sat down on the cool tile with her skirt bunched up and her legs in the water. Lucien dropped in, mindful not to splash her, and swam around her feet. Nesta waited for Cassian to change before running and jumping as high into the air as possible over the lake. Cassian caught her and flew straight up to dump her in the water- just as Rhysand had done with Feyre (except Nesta expected her mate to do just that).

Mor and Azriel had a race from the shore to the waterfall, and Varian sprouted a tail before vanishing beneath the surface to explore the depths. Amren barely knew how to swim, and she stayed on an underwater outcropping Cassian had built, up to her neck in the cool blue water.

Everyone was so preoccupied in what they were doing that they didn't realize until nearly an hour later that Rhysand and Feyre hadn't joined them. Elain stood and looked over to where Rhys had gone.

He was stretched out on a lounge chair with his wings draped across the porch to bake in the afternoon sun. One arm was across his eyes, the other held Feyre against his side. Both were asleep, but whenever Feyre's stretched wings twitched, Rhysand pulled her tighter against his body, as though even in sleep they would protect one another from anything.

Elain smiled, and both Cassian and Azriel came out of the water to see what she was looking at.

Azriel smiled softly, "I never thought I'd see Rhys so… peaceful."

"She's perfect for him," Cassian agreed. "They look like nothing in this world could ever worry them…"

"Dunk them in the lake?" Azriel looked to his brother.

"Oh hell yes."