Rhys watched Feyre knowing she wasn't fully aware he was there. She was trying to paint but so far the canvas in front of her remained blank and her brush still hadn't touched the drying pallet of paint. There was little that could break his heart about returning home after it had been cleaned up. Things were replaceable. But Feyre's studio had been trashed. The paintings had all been smashed or hacked up. She had spent their first day back sorting through remnants and throwing most of it away. The only one she kept was the smashed canvas that held her unfinished painting of him. That had been a week ago but he knew Feyre wasn't coping well.
At night, Feyre wouldn't sleep unless he was with her and even then she would wake with nightmares. She didn't paint. She spent each evening in her studio but nothing ever came of it. The same canvas sat on the easel, still as pristine as when she had put it up there. Even worse was Feyre, and Rhys, both did not respond well to unannounced visitors. Cassian had barged in through the front door once on their first day home and hadn't done so again after getting a look of Feyre's face before she buried it in Rhys' chest.
But that currently wasn't a concern. His brothers were both gone. Cassian had gone to visit their clan to organize a sweep for any Hybern workers hiding in the mountains. Azriel had gone to locate the cabin and see if anything was left of it and if anything could be salvaged. Neither would be returning for at least another week. And Mor was too busy to come barging in anymore.
"Feyre," Rhys called her name softly. "Darling." She slowly lowered the brush and turned to look at him. The same vacant expression that followed her nightmares etched itself in the features of her face.
He was half tempted to tell her to speak to the therapist that Thesan had recommended when Rhys had mentioned the signs of trauma Feyre had been exhibiting. But it was the other suggestion that Thesan had mentioned that had Rhys standing behind Feyre now.
She hadn't had nightmares at the hotel. She had slept somewhat soundly against him each night they had spent there. He had even seen her make a few sketches in her sketchpad at the hotel.
"Darling, I want to take you somewhere," he reached out to stroke a hand down her cheek and she leaned into it for a moment before setting the pallet down.
"Where are we going?" She asked.
"Some place special," he promised. And it was some place special, or he hoped it would be.
He drove them until they were in a line of mansions along the Sidra. Feyre kept her eyes on the road in front of them even as he slowed and pulled in to a driveway in front of one of the more beautiful mansions. She followed his lead as he helped her out of the car and followed him up to the front door. He opened the key box with a code and let himself in.
The foyer was polished white marble with sweeping staircases shaped like wings. Feyre said nothing as they walked the entire mansion, room to room. And when they finally reached the gardens in the back, Rhys turned to her.
"What do you think?" He asked finally.
"What is this, Rhys?" She asked in return.
"Home, if you want it," he told her. He closed the distance between them, took her hands and held them tight. "You aren't comfortable at the townhouse anymore, understandably so. More than that, it's starting to feel a bit small. Not when it's just me and you, but when everyone else is there it's getting cramped. And if, if, we have children, we will need more space. This house is up for sale but if you don't like it, we can buy property somewhere and build something new."
"It's a bit large," she said finally. An understatement if he had ever heard one. The place was more than a bit large. It was huge. Something that was only a few rooms shy of his family's estate in the country and lacking the large amount of open land around it.
"It probably needs to be a bit large. We need space for our family and their egos all to be in the same place. We need offices for you and me. A studio for you," he smiled at her and stroked a hand over her cheekbone. "A closet big enough for all of my clothing, and another one for everything I plan to buy you over the years."
"Do we really need a ballroom?" Feyre asked.
"Now that we aren't the horrible owners of Night Industries that is out to destroy the world I think we might have to start hosting a few parties. Helion hosts parties at his house down the street at least twice a month, though I'm not sure we ever want to be invited to those." Rhys grinned as Feyre rolled her eyes.
She had been made aware of Helion's 'parties' by Helion himself describing the aftermath of a recent one at their last meeting. While Feyre was certainly not innocent in the way of the world or in the way of sex, she had had questions that she had waited until they had been laying in bed that night to ask. Mostly logistic questions about how Helion's parties actually worked.
"Imagine having a gala for Velaris each year," Rhys murmured in her ear to put more pleasant images in her mind. She had talked about that once in passing. About finding some sort of event to recognize the businesses and people that Velaris supported.
"So this will be home then instead of the townhouse?" Feyre asked finally.
"Only if you want it," he told her honestly. If she told him she'd prefer a penthouse downtown, he'd find one. If she said she wanted an airy mansion on a mountain top with moonstone pillars lining the halls, he'd buy her a mountain and start building immediately. And if she really wanted to stay in the townhouse, he wouldn't question it again though he'd be investing in multiple security measures with Hybern and Amarantha knowing where they lived.
"You waited until Cassian and Az were out of town and Mor was too busy so they couldn't interfere," Feyre accused.
"True," Rhys smirked at her. "But Az knew about it. He tipped me off that this property was going to be for sale." He waited as she looked around the garden once more.
"We will need to do something about the kitchen. It's severely outdated. Nuala, Cerridwen, and Cass will all hate it. And maybe I can hire Elain to come do the gardens," Feyre mused.
"Anything you want, Feyre," Rhys promised her. "Design it however you want. Tear down walls, rip up floors, make whatever changes you would like to make this home for us."
"Then let me know when I can get a contractor out here," she told him. "Now let's go home. I'm tired."
It didn't take Rhys more than two days to get full possession of the house and another day to unleash Feyre on it with a contractor to talk about the kitchen and any other projects she wanted. She conscripted Nuala and Cerridwen to help her.
The project did exactly what Rhys had intended, distracting Feyre so she didn't have much time to think on the break in. Feyre had slept soundly. She wasn't painting again, yet, but she was sketching in her sketchpad. Most of the sketches were design ideas for the new house. And despite Rhys telling her she had full artistic control, she insisted that he see her ideas and have a say in them.
Which is how his family found them on Saturday evening when they arrived for a family dinner after Cassian and Azriel both arrived back in town. Mor and Amren apparently had cleared their schedules. Rhys hadn't been planning on any of them so neither he nor Feyre were exactly dressed for company. Feyre hadn't even bothered to pull on more than one of his t-shirts for the day and he was only in lounge pants.
Once Rhys saw who was knocking on the door, he sent Feyre upstairs to locate pants and opened the door to greet his family when she was out of sight.
"Did we catch you at a bad time?" Azriel asked eyeing his shirtless state.
"Not at all. Feyre and I were just discussing ordering dinner in since we didn't know family dinners were starting again tonight," he waved them in.
"Where is Feyre?" Mor asked as they came in and noted the papers sprawled out over the table along with a number of colored pencils.
"She's putting on more appropriate clothing for company," Rhys explained and went to start collecting the papers. With the exception of Azriel finding them the property, he hadn't told any of his family that they had bought a place or were even looking to move. He hadn't even informed Azriel of the actual purchase of the property.
"What's this? Feyre's coloring in the dining room now? Didn't we give her a studio to do this stuff in?" Cassian demanded.
"Feyre won't work in her studio," Rhys admitted quietly. "And it's easier for us to do this work at the table." He snatched one of the sketches from Cassian before he could get a good look at it but could not get to the one Azriel had picked up to help gather.
"So you bought it then," Az spoke. "When do you move?" His quiet voice carried and their family all turned to look at the two of them.
"When it's done. The contractor gave Feyre a timeline of five to six weeks," Rhys sighed. "And of course, I'd like you to set up the security system."
"I'll need access," Azriel started.
"Speak with Feyre about that. She has full control." Rhys waved to his wife as she came down the stairs. She appeared to have traded out his shirt for a sweater and leggings. She also appeared to have brought him the shirt she had been wearing for him to pull on.
"You're moving?" Cassian demanded finally. "We leave you for a week and you buy a new house and are moving?"
Rhys rolled his eyes at his brother and turned back to Azriel. "Do you have anything to report?"
"The cabin is gone," Azriel informed him quietly. "It looks like they burned it down and cleared away the wreckage in preparation to build there, just as Hybern indicated. They even had the ground marked out for the foundation."
Rhys felt the words like a physical blow. His mother's cabin—gone. All of those memories—. Feyre's arms around him had him pulling her closer to steal comfort from her.
"I searched the area but only the construction equipment was left behind," Azriel pushed on.
"Yeah, that's what we found too. Once Hybern was arrested, the lackeys cleared out," Cassian added. "We checked every possible hiding place to make sure they weren't just lying low, but there's no one left. Just their equipment like they dropped everything and ran when Hybern was picked up."
"Well, they were illegally occupying native lands," Amren sipped at the wine she had somehow already produced. "And illegally building on that land. I would say that without Hybern to protect them from legal repercussions, they were wise to run." She flashed a savage smile at Rhys. "I've been working on how to keep Hybern from Prythian when he eventually makes his way out of prison."
"How?" Mor demanded.
"Unleash me on Prythian and find out, Girlie," Armen's smile was nothing short of serpentine.
"Will it keep Amarantha away as well?" Rhys asked.
"Amarantha will never be leaving prison again," Armen turned to them. "As a repeat offender that has weaseled her way out of prison time and again, she is being put in maximum security with limited access to other inmates and outside contact."
"Do what you need to do to make sure that monster of a man leaves this place and us alone," Feyre spoke for Rhys and he couldn't help but hold her tighter at the strain in her voice. "Obliterate him."
"Happily," Amren's eyes sparked with a fire that Rhys knew he would fear for the rest of his life. Whatever Hybern was in for, Rhys could only hope he never gave Amren a reason to do it to him as well.