Here's chapter 14! I had a super busy day at work, and only now found enough peace to finish editing it and to post it. I hope my late night editing won't be too bad!

As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I love all of your feedback :)

Rhys stood still for a few second, watching his sister as she watched him back. Then he seemed to shook himself and said as he moved away from the door:

"Lyra? What are you doing here? Come in."

The girl stepped in, and as Feyre took her in under the light, there was absolutely no doubt that she was of Rhys' blood. It wasn't the brown skin, or the black hair, or even the peculiar eye color that gave it away. It was the way this girl stood and moved, it was the fierce light in her eyes and the similar dimple on her left cheek as she smiled shyly at her brother. Her eyes moved to meet Feyre's and for a moment the three of them stood in the hall in an awkward silence before Rhys said: "Feyre, this is my little sister, Lyra. Lyra, this is Feyre." He didn't specify who or what she was to him, but she couldn't blame him. For all their wonderful time together, they hadn't really talked about calling themselves boyfriend and girlfriend, even though their relationship couldn't really be described as anything else. Noticing Lyra's wary look towards her, she advanced and said:

"Hi Lyra, it's very nice to meet you." The smile, and what Feyre hoped to be a friendly tone, seemed to work their magic on the teenager, who smiled back at her and extended her hand. Rhys then suggested moving into the living room and the girl tumbled down on the couch, her hands tucked between her knees, not moving. Rhys sat down beside her, and Feyre followed. The silence stretched out for what seemed like forever, and then Rhys started talking:

"Are you going to explain it, or am I supposed to guess?"

"Explain what?" His sister answered in a sharp voice.

"Oh I don't know. The reason why you're showing up at my house in the middle of the night, maybe?"

"What, I can't come visit you now?"

"Of course you can, but you being alone in Velaris when you're supposed to be in Hewn with mom and dad is kind of alarming, I have to say. Do they even know you're here?"

Her silence was answer enough, and Rhys swore. "Shit Lyra, are you kidding me? I'm gonna call mom."

"No please! I don't want them to know where I went."

"Why? What the hell happened?" Feyre had never seen Rhys so tense before.

"I… I don't want to tell you."

"Not telling me is not an option in this discussion, Lyra. What the hell do you think you're doing, leaving home alone and showing up here out of nowhere? You're fourteen!"

"Rhys…" her voice broke and tears started to roll down her cheeks. Feyre would have hugged her if Rhysand hadn't done it himself as seeing the distress in his sister. His voice was soft again when he spoke, his arms encircling her.

"Hey, calm down. I shouldn't have yelled, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me what happened right now. But I'm gonna have to call mom, you know that, right? They're probably worried sick about you."

Lyra nodded against his chest, incapable of forming coherent words between her sobs. Rhys was holding her against him and he continued: "You can sleep in the room across from mine if you want. I think some of your clothes are still in the closet from the last time you came. Wash up and I'll bring some tea in a minute, okay?"

She stayed in his arms a few more minutes, her sobs calming a bit, before getting up and walking towards the staircase. Once they heard the door click shut, Rhys exhaled loudly and sat back on the couch, his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry Feyre. I really didn't see that coming. I need to call my mom," he said, getting his phone out.

"Do you want me to go home and leave you two alone? Your sister might prefer not to have a stranger around if she's not feeling good," Feyre said as she watched him dial.

"You're not a stranger, and if you're okay with staying here, I really want you to stay, I would - hi mom. Yeah she's here."

The voice at the other end of the line seemed frantic, and Rhys had difficulty talking over it. "Mom, she just got here like ten minutes ago, I couldn't have called you earlier. And what about the next time your teenage daughter goes missing, you give me a heads up? No, I can hear dad, tell him not to come tonight. I don't know what happened at home, but she doesn't want to see you guys." He fell silent as the voice answered and closed his eyes in exasperation. "Shit. Well tell dad whenever he wants to be a jackass, maybe he can chose a better target than Lyra. Don't come down here, she's with me, she's safe. I'll get her back home on Sunday okay? You're welcome. Try and get some sleep."

He hung up and got up from the couch to go to the kitchen and start the kettle. Feyre followed him, taking a mug from the shelf to prepare the tray. He watched her and as she turned to find a teabag, his arms found their place around her waist. He buried his face in her neck and whispered: "Thank you." For a moment, they stayed in a tight embrace, her back pressed on his chest. Then Rhys said:

"My sister wants to spend next summer in the mountains, and my father doesn't want her to go because he doesn't think it's appropriate for a fourteen years old to be left there alone. He wants her to, I quote, "live properly until she's old enough to meet a nice boy and get married." And that's not really the way my sister wants to live her life, she wants to work for Doctors without Borders. Going to the Illyrian camps is a way to escape my father's expectations for a few months. They had a big argument today because my father told her he wanted to send her to a summer camp on the east coast, and so they talked again about her wanting to be a doctor, him wanting her to work with us until she gets married, the usual stuff. But according to my mother, it got particularly ugly. My sister got out of the house saying she would find a way out of the family if she couldn't live the way she wanted. My parents thought she'd gone to a friend's house nearby because she'd left without her cell, and they only started to worry when they went to get her for dinner and she wasn't there."

The kettle signaled them the water was boiling, and Rhys let go of her. Feyre stood in the kitchen watching him.

"I don't know what to say, I'm sorry."

He looked up from the tray and smiled: "Don't worry darling, there's not much to say, Lyra just needs to cool off this weekend, and my father needs to understand that he can't control her future. Let's go upstairs."

They climbed the stairs together, and Rhys stopped between two doors. He nodded towards the door on the right and whispered:

"This is my room. Make yourself at home, there are fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower. I'll be there in a minute." They kissed and he knocked on the door on the left. Feyre was inside his bedroom before it opened.

Rhysand's bedroom was huge, with a king-size bed in the middle of the room, and antique furniture all around - a desk, a big dresser, a bookshelf. A door led to a bright bathroom where she found both shower and bathtub waiting for her. Realizing she hadn't brought night clothes with her - she had assumed they wouldn't be necessary, she remembered with a low giggle -, she fished around and found a large white shirt to put on once she'd be out of the shower. She didn't think Rhys would mind her borrowing it for one night.

He still wasn't back when she got out of the bathroom, so she turned off the lights and settled in his bed. She had been determined to wait for him, but exhaustion hit her and she fell asleep in minutes.

Rhysand entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. Lyra sat down beside him and took the hot mug between her hands. They sat for a while in silence, no sound but the small sips she took. At last she took her eyes away from the tea and looked up at him.

"What did mom say?"

"I convinced her to let you stay here until Sunday. But you're gonna need to go home eventually, Lyra."

"I know, I only said I wanted out to piss off dad."

He laughed at that. "Well I think you did a damn good job."

She finished her tea and he took the mug from her, deposited it on the ground, and lay down on the bed. She did the same beside him and put her head on his shoulder.

"I don't understand why dad is so hard with me. I mean, I want to be a doctor, I'm not getting high on cocaine or something!"

"You know how he is, he always needs to control everything around him, and you're no different. You're too wild for him, too much like mom. But don't worry, he'll come to his senses eventually, when you arrive first of your class in med school."

"I don't know, he's the one that's going to pay for my classes, and as he so kindly reminded me today, 'he's not going to spend thousands of dollars on a hopeless career.'"

"He called med school 'hopeless'!?"

"I think it was more the 'Doctors without Borders' bit that got him. You know, helping people without gaining something in return is not really a clear idea for dad."

"Yeah I know. But he'll get around, I promise."

She didn't answer, and said instead:

"Rhys, do you regret sometimes that you didn't get to chose your career? I mean, dad did to you what he wants to do to me now, and yet you seem okay with it."

"I am okay with it, Lyra. I mean, maybe when I was your age I wouldn't have said the same, but my job allows me to help a lot of people, and that's what I've always wanted to do, so I'm fine with it. Besides, once dad retires and him and mom move to Europe, I'll be able to achieve my true goal with the company: sell all the actions and use the money to build a candy factory."

Her laugh sounded in the air, and touched Rhysand into his very heart. He'd loved her so much since the day she was born, that making her laugh was always amazing to him, even after fourteen years. Her laugh lingered between them as she spoke again:

"Sometimes I don't understand how mom and dad ended up together. They're so different!"

"Opposites attract I guess. Love isn't really something that can be explained. I mean, I love you even when you're annoying, which is most of the time."

"When was I ever annoying?" She asked, falsely offended.

"Oh I don't know, Miss 'I barge in on my brother during a wonderful evening he was having with a beautiful woman'."

She laughed. "I'm sorry I interrupted your night."

"It's fine, you know I'm here whenever you need me."

"So is she your girlfriend?" Her voice sounded eager.

To his dismay, Rhys felt his cheeks get warmer.

"I guess."

"You guess?! You don't 'guess' this kind of things, she either is or she isn't!"

"Then I guess she is, yes."

He felt her grin against his shoulder.

"She's very pretty."

"That she is. And really nice, I think you'll like her."

"So do you love her?"

"Lyra, I met her like three weeks ago."

"So?"

"So you don't fall in love with someone in three weeks."

"I don't see why not."

He chuckled and didn't answer. After a while, he felt her breathing calm down, and moved her under the covers.

He left her room and entered his own, finding all the lights out and Feyre tucked beneath the sheets. He undressed down to his undershorts, slowly moved just enough of the covers to slide beside her without waking her, and found her wearing nothing but her underpants and one of his tee-shirts. He smiled. So do you love her? As he grew closer to her and she nestled on his chest, he thought maybe three weeks wasn't too short a period to know the answer to that question.

Waking up slowly, Rhys reached out beside him to find Feyre in the bed, eager for her warmth against him. But the bed was empty. He opened his eyes to search the room, all lamps were still out, the only light coming from the sun outside. The events of last night came back to him as he got up to dress: the evening with Mor, Lyra's sudden arrival and the quiet night snuggled against Feyre. He went into the hallway, and was greeted by laughter coming from downstairs.

Lyra was propped up on the kitchen counter, chatting, and Feyre was… cooking? Still wearing his white shirt, but having added a pair of jeans, she was bent over a frying pan and laughing as Lyra kept going:

"Oh and also there was the time I got Cassian to bring me to a concert with him even though I was supposed to be grounded."

"And how did you manage that?"

"When Lyra wants something," Rhys interrupted, "she's not afraid to lie to her own brothers to get it."

They both turned and Lyra grinned at him:

"Or maybe I just have more charm than you do. I got Feyre to make me pancakes this morning, did she ever made you pancakes?"

He went up to Feyre as she was getting one of said pancakes out of the pan. "I'm afraid she never did. Maybe you do have more charms than I do," he said to his sister, hearing Feyre chuckle beside him. "Lyra did you take a shower this morning?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe you can go and we'll finish getting breakfast ready while you're gone."

"But I don't wanna go now!"

"Oh well you can stay if you want, I mean if you don't mind some unrestrained displays of affection…" he encircled Feyre's waist as he said it and Lyra quickly changed her mind, leaving the kitchen with a sound of disgust. As soon as she was gone, Rhys let his lips gently explore Feyre's neck.

"Good morning," he whispered, pressing against her.

"Good morning."

"I missed you when I woke up."

"I didn't want to bother you." She took the last pancake out of the pan, turned off the cooker and turned around to meet his eyes.

"So tell me, how come you're making pancakes for my sister?"

"Oh I came down to make some tea and she was looking through your fridge in search for food. We talked a bit and one thing led to another, and now we're having pancakes. I'm not any good though so I hope they won't be too bad. She's right you know, I don't know how she got me into the kitchen, I hate to cook!"

He laughed. "Are you saying my baby sister has more charisma than I do?"

Her smile was wicked when she answered:

"You can still prove me otherwise."

"Is that a challenge?

"Is it?"

Her voice was lower when she answered, and he bit his lip to keep from biting her neck. But when she kissed him, he took her in is arms and got her to sit on the kitchen counter, settling himself between her legs. He knew they couldn't go any farther than a kiss, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting more when she ground her hips against him.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he groaned, but pushing against her nonetheless. She laughed in his mouth and let go of him. They stayed that way for a minute, breathing each other in and calming down their desire. Finally, Feyre spoke:

"Do you have oranges?"

"What?"

"Oranges. I thought we could make some orange juice to go with the pancakes and tea."

"Right! Yeah I have some."