Rhys wasn't sure when exactly laying there and letting Feyre sketch every part of his naked body turned into sleep, but he woke with a start to a dark room and Feyre asleep tucked firmly against him, equally unclothed. It had become a small obsession of hers over the past couple of weeks and he couldn't deny her a chance to admire his body.

For a moment he was sure it had just been a nightmare he couldn't remember that had woken him but then he heard something shatter in a distant corner of the townhouse.

"Feyre," he murmured her name. "Wake up."

Her eyes opened instantly and searched for the clock on the nightstand. 2:53 AM. He could see the question in her eyes. Why was he waking her up so early? Something else shattering on the floor below them had her half sitting up.

"I need you to get dressed, take your cellphone, go into the bathroom and lock the door," he started to get out of the bed himself.

"We should just call the police," she begged.

"There's a chance that it's just a very drunk Cassian or Mor," Rhys told her. It had happened before, but he knew in his heart it wasn't the case this time. Cassian and Mor took their duties seriously. It was unlike them to get that drunk on a work night.

"You don't believe that," Feyre informed him.

"It's your choice," he admitted. "But for my sake, I'd like you to lock yourself in the bathroom just in case."

"Okay," she sighed and got up to pull on her own clothes. When he was assured she had her phone and was locked in the bathroom, he took out his Illyrian sword and walked down the hall to the stairwell. Somewhere in his mind he realized his security alarm hadn't gone off. Somewhere in his mind he realized he should have called his brothers or the police as Feyre had suggested. But he'd rather deal with this on his own. He descended the stairs and turned towards the living room where he stopped.

"Hello, Rhysand," came a sultry voice that made Rhys shudder with all of the memories it conjured in his head. "Quite the… charming… place you have here."

Amarantha sat on his couch, looking for all the world like she was laying claim to the room and the rest of the house already. Across from her, in an armchair, sat an older man with gray steaked brown hair, black eyes surrounded by wrinkles, and plain clothes that did little to hide exactly who he was. Hybern.

"Your security system was laughable," Amarantha continued. "Cut two wires and the whole thing shuts down."

Rhys froze, realizing why the alarms never sounded but he also knew that the moment the security system had been disabled like that, Azriel would have been alerted. He hoped his brother had woken to the message.

"Where is your beautiful bride?" Hybern asked. "Should we send my ravens to locate her so we can all have a civil conversation between the four of us?" He snapped his fingers and two people left his dining room. One pale with white hair and the other deeply tanned with dark hair, twins except for their coloring.

"You're going to leave Feyre out of this," Rhys raised the sword to block the stairwell. The ravens, as Hybern had called them, wisely stopped. Rhys would not be opposed to making both of them bleed to protect Feyre, and he wouldn't face charges. These were intruders in his home and he was protecting himself and his wife. The law would side with him.

"Ah yes, your Illyrian heritage shows itself. Let's discuss your mountain home. That cabin was lovely." Hybern started to inspect his nails. "A shame that the location was perfect for where I needed to set up my base. But don't worry, I saved you a memento from it." He pulled out a chunk of cedar wood that was charred and chucked it at Rhys' feet.

Rhys stared at the piece of wood for a moment before he knelt down to pick it up. It wasn't just any part of the cabin, it was from the doorway where, unless one knew where to look, they wouldn't have seen the small carving his father had done of his and his wife's initials entwined. But there they were, on that piece of charred wood. Proof that some part of the cabin had at least been damaged. Distantly he felt a stab of pain in his heart at that. Years of memories in his mother's cabin with his family and now with Feyre flashed before his eyes as the pain settled in his heart like a stone in a pond.

A giggle from Amarantha had him snapping his attention upwards again. He had lowered his sword when he had gone to pick up the wood and the ravens were gone. He cursed himself soundly. He had let down his guard and Feyre was now in danger. He turned to go up the stairs but suddenly Amarantha was at his side, dragging him back towards the living room with surprising strength. He had forgotten how strong she was despite her size.

"She'll be joining us soon enough," Amarantha purred. Her red pointed nails dug into Rhys' skin as she shoved him towards the couch and then sat down on top of his lap, straddling him. "I've missed you, Rhysand. Tamlin isn't nearly as giving as you were to me."

"How did you get yourself out of prison this time?" He asked, trying to distract himself from the way she shifted her hips over him, grinding against his length. Trying to distract himself from how ill he was feeling at her touch and the pervasive invasion of his being.

"Oh, Rhysand, as if any prison could hold me," she laughed. Hybern joined in with his own joyless chuckle. "You can bribe anyone with the right leverage."

"Speaking of, let's discuss you giving up this mad notion you can protect Prythian from me," Hybern started.

"What makes you think I'm going to give in and let you win?" Rhys demanded. It was his heritage, his country, his ethics—

"I think you'll do almost anything to protect your darling wife," Hybern shrugged as Rhys processed the words. "I debated, you know. On how to personally strike at you. Your Illyrian bastard brothers you keep so close, your cousin, perhaps bombing your precious skyscraper at a peak time to endanger as many of your employees as possible. But this just feels so much better. Invading your private residence and letting you watch as we torture your blushing bride until you relent. Nothing is safe from me, Rhysand. Not when you keep opposing me so."

Rhys felt his heart start to pound. He would give everything up for Feyre. To protect her from being injured or killed. To protect her from any of that pain. He went to shove Amarantha off of him but the sound of a gun cocking returned his attention to Hybern. The pistol in his hand was aimed so casually in his direction that Rhys didn't even hesitate to believe the man would shoot him if he moved. If he was dead he couldn't negotiate for Feyre's safety. So he stayed put, enduring Amarantha's pursuit of his body. He reasoned that if Hybern thought to shoot him, he would hold her in front of him. He wouldn't even feel bad about her death.

"It bothered dearest Amarantha here to not know where you were hiding from her. You dodged all of her trackers. You kept your movements well hidden. But then you slipped up. You were far too interested in your new bride to pay attention to being followed all the way home from your wedding. A pity for you. And you've been far too distracted these last few weeks to notice us watching you, waiting for the right time to strike." Hybern kept talking to fill the time.

A minute passed, and then two, but the ravens didn't appear with Feyre and Rhys felt a small bit of pride that perhaps Feyre had hidden herself well enough or that the bathroom lock was holding far better than he had ever planned. He hoped Azriel had something up his sleeve. He could endure listening to his failures in protecting them while Feyre bought them the time his brother probably needed.

"Go help them locate the pathetic girl," Hybern demanded when it became five minutes of sitting together in the living room without the ravens or Feyre appearing. There wasn't even a squeak of floorboards above them or voices to tell them what might be going on above them.

Amaratha slid from his lap far too slowly for his liking. The relief was short lived as that pistol retrained on him, now without Amarantha's body as a possible shield.

"I must be some big threat for you to want my cooperation," Rhys tried to make small talk. Anything to distract Hybern. "Here I was beginning to think I was ineffective in this fight."

"You're but a small annoyance, but even flies need to be dealt with from time to time," Hybern sneered at him. "And I think it will be a personal favor to Mr. Greene if I ruin you so thoroughly. Perhaps I should send what remains of your wife to him. I think he's missed having her body to use as he wants. A broken mind won't deter him too much."

Rhys was about to reply with some sort of snappy remark but two things happened at the exact same moment. The door burst open at the same time they heard a piercing scream from well above them. Not from the second floor but higher, perhaps the third floor. The sound of a gun firing drew Rhys' panic from the screams above him to where Hybern was pointing his pistol, at a now paling Azriel clutching his chest where the bullet had hit.

Rhys didn't even register the flashing lights coming outside the window, or how the place was overrun with SWAT and police in moments. The moment Hybern was surrounded he moved, not towards the stairs but to Azriel's side. His brother had been shot in the chest coming to his rescue. He'd rather he had been shot than his brother. His death over Azriel's. His brother deserved to have a full life. He deserved so much more than he had already been given. He regretted hoping his brother had a plan. He regretted hoping Azriel would find some way to get them out of this mess. It should have been him and not Azriel.

"Are there more, Mr. Nox?" An officer asked him, a hand on his shoulder to get his attention away from his brother.

"Upstairs with my wife," he managed to choke out. Another failure. He had forgotten about Feyre, the ravens, and Amarantha.

"Shit that hurt," Azriel wheezed out when Hybern was completely outside. Rhys realized something was off about the situation. How was Azriel even talking? Where was all the blood that should have been seeping from the wound? Slowly Azriel sat up and opened his shirt to show his bulletproof vest. Rhys almost let out a laugh of relief if it wasn't for Azriel opening the vest to show a dark bruise spreading over his heart. If he hadn't been wearing the vest, he would have died. "Where's Feyre?"

What felt like an hour later, police appeared, dragging both ravens out. Behind both ravens came Amarantha screeching at the top of her lungs while clutching a bloody arm to her body. Behind Amarantha came a police officer holding a plastic bag with a hand in it. Even through the blood on the hand in the brief glimpse he had of it, he could see the red pointed nails.

"This way, Mrs. Nox," an officer led a pale Feyre down the stairs finally. She had blood splattered on her, but it was just a spray. The police officer was trying to get Feyre towards the couch but she seemed to ignore the request and went straight for Rhys where he still knelt next to Azriel. Without a word Rhys drew her into his arms and felt her shaking.

"I know only you are supposed to handle your special knives," she whispered against his neck. "But it was all I could find…"

Rhys felt her shudder. Feyre had cut off Amarantha's hand with one of his Illyrian knives. No, she wasn't supposed to handle them. Half because she was untrained and a liability to herself and half because only the warrior they were gifted to was supposed to touch them. But he was proud of her. He hadn't thought to arm her somehow. Another failure on his part.

"I need to take your statements," an officer interrupted them.

"If you would allow me," Azriel spoke. He stood and walked to the television remote. He turned on the T.V., typed a code into the remote, and Rhys was greeted with the sight of his living from the point of view of his bookshelves. "It was set to record if someone tampered with the alarms and only then," Azriel turned to assuring Rhys. "And only the main floor."

Feyre clutched at Rhys as they, and the officer, listened and watched the entire exchange once more. When Hybern mentioned torturing her and giving her to Tamlin, she shrank against his side. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, watching the exchange made Rhys beyond sick. He was going to need several shots of hard liquor to calm his nerves now that they were worked back up.

"Do you have somewhere else to go tonight?" The officer asked when the tape had been played fully and after Feyre had given her quiet statement about taking the knife and going to the bathroom in her studio instead of the one in her bedroom where she had cut off Amarantha's hand when the woman had managed to get a hand through the door to try and unblock it.

"Yes," Rhys assured the officer. They would pack some bags and he would get them to a hotel. He wouldn't impose on any of his family if he could help it. Judging by how Feyre was clinging to his side, she would need some physical assurance. He could use some physical assurance after Amarantha had touched him again. He could still feel her straddling him and her hands ghosting over his body to possess him. He doubted his family would stop them from anything they actually needed, but he couldn't help but recall how Cassian had teased them after Rhys had gotten out of the hospital only a few months before.

"Rhys! Feyre!" Cassian's voice boomed through the front door. He rounded into the living room with two police officers trying to hold him back. "What the hell is going on?"

"Will you sit with Feyre a moment while I get us a suitcase packed?" Rhys asked instead of answering. "It's alright," he told the officers trying to hold Cassian. "He's family."

As he went up the stairs he could hear Azriel start to explain what had happened. Rhys paused at his bedroom door. The room had been torn apart. The bed had been hacked to pieces. Clothes had been strewn about the room. Rhys grabbed a few pieces he could easily pick out. Shirts, pants, and underwear for himself and sweaters, long shirts, and leggings that Feyre tended to prefer for comfort. He tucked them all in a bag and fetched Feyre's sketchbook from inside the nightstand.

When he had the bag packed, he made a trip up to the third floor to grab his laptop. His office was equally trashed with books ripped off of shelves and paper everywhere. Feyre's studio wasn't much better. Paintings sitting along the walls had been cut up or smashed. The sheet they had 'painted' together had been hacked up. Blood splattered the tiles by the bathroom. And the half finished painting on Feyre's easel, a portrait of him that looked like she was spending quite a bit of time on, had been smashed to the floor. After one long look around for anything Feyre might want, Rhys went back to the living room with the bag. Cassian was holding onto Feyre while Azriel had disappeared from sight. There were already notably less police around.

"Paramedics asked him to go in for a scan at the hospital to make sure all he got was a bruise from that bullet," Cassian explained. "Where can I drive the two of you?"

Even after they had checked into one of the finest rooms at one of Tarquin's premier hotels nearest Nox Industries, neither he nor Feyre could sleep. Rhys raided the mini bar, wrapped around Feyre, and kept her locked against him until the sun had risen and Feyre's growling stomach reminded them about breakfast.

"A thought for a thought?" Rhys asked after they had ordered up room service.

"I'm thinking that I hope they can't attach her hand again so she can never touch you again. I'm thinking I wish I would have gotten both of her hands," Feyre's voice was quiet. "And I'm thinking that the more I wish that, that I'm not much better than she was."

"Feyre," he cupped her cheeks to make her look at him. "You are so much better than her. So much better," he kissed her softly and then pulled back to meet her blue-gray eyes. "I'm thinking that you are so strong. I'm thinking that I'm proud of you. And I'm thinking that I would have given up everything to protect you." He drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm thinking I should have been more careful, protected you better."

"Please don't," she whispered. "Please don't start protecting me like that."

"Not like you're thinking. You are far more capable than I ever imagined," he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I can't live without you." He breathed in the scent of her and pressed kisses along her shoulder.

Breakfast came, forcing them to separate just enough to eat. Rhys was only partway through his first pancake when his phone started beeping.

Cassian: Turn on the news.

Rhys didn't even respond. Instead he turned on the television and flipped to the news. The picture behind the newscaster was a familiar one, his townhouse, along with the words: Police called to home of Rhysand Nox of Nox Industries in middle of night.

Rhys stared at the screen for a moment. They were showing his home on television. All of his careful protection of his townhouse was for nothing. The location of his home was now public knowledge. Then again, he realized he was only hiding his private home from people like Hybern, Amarantha, and Tamlin. They all knew where he lived now anyway without this broadcast.

"Police were alerted to a disturbance in the neighborhood by the security system owned by Nox. Police arrived on the scene to note Nox and his wife were being held hostage in their own home by who police have now identified as Amarantha Scarlett and Rubio Hybern as well as two others. Ms. Scarlett was recently charged and imprisoned for kidnapping and torturing Feyre Nox and has been known to have a history with Rhysand Nox previously. Political sources tell us that Nox has been actively opposing Hybern moving his company to Prythian. At this time we have been unable to reach Mr. and Mrs. Nox for comment and their public relations team has been oddly silent on the matter. We will have more on this developing story later."

"Do we release a statement about this?" Feyre asked softly when the newscaster switched to talking about some new research being done by Dawn Medical.

"I think we have to," Rhys sighed. "They will just get all of the wrong information out if they don't hear from us." He was about to come up with something when his phone started beeping incessantly.

Mor: WHERE ARE YOU?

Mor: WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME LAST NIGHT

Mor: WHY AM I HEARING ABOUT THIS ON THE NEWS AND NOT FROM YOU?

Mor: ANSWER ME!

Before Rhys could respond, Feyre's phone started beeping as well. Once glance at the screen showed the same messages being sent to Feyre from Mor. Then his phone started to ring. He expected to see Mor's name on the caller ID but instead it was Amren's. Deciding he couldn't ignore her he looked to Feyre.

"I need to take this. Can you respond to Mor?"

"You owe me," was all Feyre could say.

"Would you rather be on the receiving end of Amren's phone call?" He asked and a small smile graced his face when she mock shuddered and dialed Mor's number without further complaint.

Rhys expected that Amren would snap at him for not calling her immediately after everything had happened but she simply started talking about the statement he would need to make to the media and then which charges they were going to pursue. At the very end of the call Amren paused a moment.

"I'm to understand that Feyre hacked off Amarantha's hand," Amren's voice was dry. In the background Rhys heard a male cough. "Give her my most pleasant regards on the matter."

"I will. Who are you with?" Rhys wouldn't ask how she already knew Feyre had caused bodily harm to one of their attackers.

"Just Varian. Don't worry, he already knows how to keep quiet," Amren's tone left nothing for debate.

Varian… he knew that name. Where did he know that name from? Then an image entered his mind of a dark skinned male with white hair and piercing blue eyes that Tarquin had claimed as his cousin, and head of Summer Hospitalities security team.

"Varian Summer?!" Rhys demanded.

"Your discretion is appreciated, Rhysand," was the only response. Then a beep followed by silence told him she had ended the call.

He looked to Feyre to see her still on the phone trying to assure Mor. She rolled her eyes a few times before he heard her give Mor the name of the hotel and the room number.

Mor arrived an hour after they finished breakfast along with Cassian and Azriel. Azriel was quick to assure both him and Feyre he was indeed just bruised and then moved the conversation away from himself. They discussed the statement and listened as Mor called her connection to the news and gave their official statement over. Then together they watched the as the newscaster revealed neither Rhys or Feyre were injured in the harrowing break in, but damage had been intended in order to keep Nox Industries from interfering with Hybern's invasion into Prythian. They had agreed it would hopefully lead to more resistance against Hybern since all of them doubted Hybern's efforts would stop with him being arrested. None of them believed he would stay in prison for long.

Within another hour, Tarquin showed up at their door unannounced. It seemed he had started calling each of his hotels the moment the news had aired so he could find if they were booked into any of his rooms. Once Tarquin was assured both Feyre and Rhys were fine and had told them anything they needed would be taken care of, he left.

More people reached out to them as the day wore on. Feyre spent an hour on the phone with both of her sisters having a tearful conversation that left Rhys holding her for a long time to assure her it was fine to still not want much to do with them even after they had reached out to her.

Rhys spent his time that afternoon responding to emails from fellow CEOs and updating Lucien via email to new meetings with Kallias, Helion, Thesan, and Tarquin. With the break in in the news, it was time to push back together.