Hi everybody! Chapter 20 is here, I hope you'll enjoy it :) Thank you so much for the likes and comments, it means the world!

Rhysand's birthday was in three days, and she still hadn't found a proper gift for him. Looking through the shelves of the bookshop, Feyre let her thoughts drift back to the weekend before. After a night spent sleeping peacefully in his arms, she'd woken up to find making breakfast on her stove, and she'd realized that she wouldn't mind waking up to the sight of him everyday. So now there she was, trying to find a perfect gift for his birthday, something that would say how much she cared about him, without her actually having to say anything.

Of course, there was her other present, the thing she'd planned to wear to bed that night, and that she was pretty sure would not disappoint him. But that was more of a one time thing, and she wanted to offer him something meaningful. Besides, they were going to have dinner with his family, so she couldn't very well appear in flimsy underwear there.

Dinner with his family. Which meant his parents would be here, as well as his second foster brother, Azriel. But at least she'd know Cassian, Mor and his sister, so she wouldn't be a total stranger. She'd tried to tell him to spend the evening with his family only, that they'd only been dating for less than two months and she didn't mind waiting to see him later. But he was having none of it. He had answered that she was talking nonsense, that it didn't matter how long they had been dating, he wanted her there with him for his birthday. And she hadn't resisted his pleading eyes. And she needed a good gift.

But there, on the shelf, sitting untouched and dusty, was an old edition of "The call of the wild" his favorite book. The date was 1928, far from a first edition - which she couldn't have afforded anyway - but the cover was beautiful, and the book was in very good shape. She looked at the price and - let's say if this was the price for a book edited 25 years after the first edition, she definitely couldn't have bought that one. But she bit her lip, thinking of how he'd been there for her when she'd felt like nobody would, thinking of how much her heart seemed flustered when he was around. And she knew he was going to love it, and now that she spotted it, she wanted him to have it, so she took it out of the shelf and brought it to the register.

Rhysand finished arranging the table of the dining room, trying not to bother the waiters coming in and out of the kitchen. He'd wanted a quiet dinner at home with his family, but his mother had insisted: "You're turning 29, Rhysand, we're not going to share a piece of pizza over your sink. At least if you want to do it at your house, I'm hiring a caterer." His wish for something simple had been overlooked too, and he'd had to call Feyre that morning to tell her to come all dressed up. She hadn't seemed to mind, so that was a good point, at least one of them wasn't anxious at the thought of her meeting his parents - he wasn't worried of what she would think if Azriel, his brother had a way of charming people when he wanted to.

The doorbell rang and he hurried out of the dining room to answer it. He'd told Feyre to come early, wanting her to welcome his family with him. He opened the door and his breath caught at the sight of her.

"You look… beautiful," he managed to get out. Feyre smiled back at him, and her eyes seemed to say "I know I do." He bent down to kiss her and invited her inside. In the light of the hall, she was even more exquisite, with her hair held up in a loose bun, some free strands encircling her face, and long white earrings illuminating the curve of her neck. She was wearing a pale blue gown with short sleeves, that was covering her body from shoulders to ankles. She deposited her unusually large handbag on a small desk near the door and turned to him once more, holding up her arms and twirling.

"What do you think?"

"Of your dress? It's perfect, you're… perfect."

She laughed. "Maybe 'perfect' is a bit of a stretch!"

It's really not, he thought, taking in the curves of her body and the brightness of her smile. But he laughed and took her in his arms, because he didn't trust himself with speech when she was so amazingly charming in front of him.

"Happy birthday," she whispered into his ear, kissing his jawbone softly.

"Thank you," he answered, and took a small step back to look at her again.

"At what time is your family arriving?"

"In about half an hour."

Right about enough time to take her upstairs and discover how quickly he could take that gown off her and…

She must have read his thoughts because she said:

"uh-huh, not happening. I borrowed this dress and I won't take the risk of you ripping it."

"So I'm not allowed to undress my girlfriend on my birthday!?"

The smile she gave him was wicked and full of promise. "Bold of you to assume I haven't planned something for you to take off of me later."

"Oh… Well then why don't we go upstairs and…"

"Later. I don't want to be disheveled when I meet you parents. And don't give me that look, I won't say yes."

"Are you nervous, darling?"

"About meeting your parents? Absolutely! Why do you think I bothered to find a gown that sophisticated?"

"I thought it was for me."

"I remember the way you ogled me when I was wearing my midnight blue dress, I know you like it on me. I wanted something classier for your parents."

"Well you look amazing. And I didn't 'ogle' you that night."

"Oh please, you were as subtle as a teenage boy!"

He laughed and said: "Sorry," as he led her into the dining room.

"I really didn't mind."

"Anyway, I'm sure my parents are going to love you." How could they not when I do so much?

"I hope so."

"They will. My sister already talked you up to them."

"She did? What did she say? 'I met Rhysand's girlfriend, she wears old jeans and makes horrible pancakes'?"

He barked out a laugh. "Yeah, pretty much." And he knew her confident air was a facade, so he added: "I don't know what she said, but when my mom called me yesterday about the caterer, she sounded really excited to meet you."

That didn't seem to reassure her, but looking at her fussing about the table arrangement, he knew his parents were going to be as enchanted as him. He just hoped she would like them too.

Feyre was seated on Rhysand's right side, handsome in a dark blue suit, his father and mother in front of them. Cassian had claimed the seat on her right, with Azriel beside him and Lyra and Morrigan on the other side of the table. She'd been talking with Cassian about her trip to New York, but now he was laughing loudly to something Azriel had said. She took all of them in once more. Rhys' mother was undoubtedly Illyrian, with brown skin, long black hair and hazel eyes. When her and Mor had entered, Feyre hadn't regretted her idea to borrow a dress from Clare. They were both wearing magnificent gowns that fitted them perfectly, as if handmade for the occasion. But Mor had been as friendly as the first time they'd met, hugging her and presenting her to her aunt as if Feyre was her best friend. And his mother - Alina - had been nothing but delighted to meet her. His father… it'd been something else. He'd been polite, shaking her hand and inquiring about her well-being, but he seemed cold, colder than she'd imagined, seeing how welcoming his children were. Feyre had recognized the deep blue of his eyes for the one she knew so much in his son, but for the rest of him, he looked nothing like them. He was tall, with blonde hair that reminded her of Mor, and his smile was the opposite of soft, almost cruel despite his polite words.

Azriel, Cassian and Lyra had come in afterwards, Lyra chatting incessantly and only stopping a second to kiss her on both cheeks, and Cassian following after her, rolling his eyes. Azriel had saluted her politely, and when he'd extended his hands, she'd taken in the burnt spots on his skin. She'd known about it, but was still shook at the sight. 'He was burnt irreversibly by his family before my mother took him in, cigarette marks.' Rhys had explained to her one afternoon. She didn't know the extent of what had happened to him, but he'd given her the most obvious details 'so that you're not surprised when you meet him.' Tonight, Azriel had been kind, speaking rarely but always having a witty comment to offer that made Mor snort, and offering Feyre discreet winks and smiles of encouragement when Rhysand's father had seemed uninterested in her. Throughout the dinner, she'd lost a bit of the stress she'd had at meeting her boyfriend's parents.

"Feyre, you were telling Cassian about New York?" Alina's voice got Feyre out of her thoughts and she turned back to her. Beside her, Rhys was in deep conversation with his father about some investment, but his hand squeezed her knee under the table, reassuring.

"Yes, I went to New York two weeks ago for work."

"Was it your first time there? Did you like it?"

"It was my first time, and I didn't really get to visit, but I did like it."

"Oh it's a lovely city. I fell in love with it the first time my husband brought me there. I think Rhys told you I grew up in the mountains?"

"He did."

"Well, we stayed in New York for a week when we came back from our honeymoon in Greece, and I fell in love with this city. There are just so many things to do."

"I'll have to go to New York every six month for work, so I'm hoping to make some time to visit at some point."

"Let me know when you go and I'll give you all the good tips!"

"I would love that."

Feyre's answering smile was genuine. After meeting his mother, it was pretty clear where Rhys had gotten his kindness. She radiated affection and joy, and it just felt like nothing could go wrong around her. The woman was in her sixties, but she seemed younger, stirring with energy.

"Then it will be my pleasure. I'll have Rhysand give me your number."

At the sound of his name, Rhys turned to them.

"Are you ladies talking about me?"

"We are, and it's none of your business. Just lend me your phone so I can take this wonderful woman's number from it."

Rhys shook his head but grinned at his mother and handed her his phone. He kissed Feyre on the temple and whispered: "I think my mom loves you, she has like ten numbers saved on her phone." Feyre laughed but felt herself blushing. He kissed her once more and went back to the conversation with his father.

The meal had been splendid, and the cake enormous, covered with beautiful icing and 29 white candles that Rhys had blown out loudly. He had opened his presents afterwards, laughing at Mor's awful set of violet towels, thanking his parents for the beautiful watch, and actually not finding words when opening Feyre's present to him. He'd told her it was his favorite book the night they'd met, and they'd never talked about it since. And she'd found this beautiful edition to offer him, nearly two months later. He'd kissed her and whispered 'thank you' against her lips, the words too few to express what he felt for her.

His parents left first, dragging Lyra behind them at around eleven o'clock, claiming she was already lucky they'd brought her along on a school night when she was still grounded. Cassian, Mor and Azriel stayed with them to crack open the whiskey Azriel had offered him, and they went home only when Mor started snoring on Feyre's shoulder.

He had to admit that he was a bit intoxicated when he closed the door behind them, laughing at seeing the three of them stumble over to the taxi. He turned around and found Feyre smiling at him.

"Gods, you're gorgeous," he said to her, crushing her into his chest. She laughed.

"And you are so drunk!"

"Am not."

"You're so drunk you can't even form entire sentences!"

He looked at her and focused his mind long enough to say: "I am not drunk, my Lady, and I will prove it to you."

"And how will you prove it?"

"I don't know, I remember mention of something you were going to wear for my enjoyment. I could take it off you."

"Oh. But that was for your birthday. And we're well past midnight now."

He gave her his most offended look at started to climb the stairs, but she laughed and ran in front of him with the bag she'd brought. When he reached his bedroom, the bathroom door was closed.

"How is it supposed to be a present for me if you're hiding, Darling?"

"I'm changing, you dofus! Stay in the bedroom."

He took off his shoes and socks and lounged on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was not intoxicated. Not too much anyway, not to the point of not being able to enjoy a night with Feyre. As if she'd heard him think her name, the bathroom door opened. He turned to her, and his mind stopped working. She was wearing an ensemble of red lingerie that barely covered anything, with assorted stockings held up on her thighs by garters. She'd let her hair down, and had removed the makeup she'd had at dinner, only to apply red lipstick on her mouth. She was, she was…

"I am going to eat you alive."

She gave him a wicked smile in answer and advanced towards the bed.