Fiesty. He liked fiesty. Too many Alphas believed that a delicate, gentile, weak Omega was the best, but not him. Rhysand wanted someone who could be his equal. And despite what everyone else believed, Omegas could be as strong and assertive as any Alpha.

Rhysand gave her directions to the bathroom and he finished plating their meals, setting it all on the table and wondering if wine was the wisest thing. He had caught how she faltered and that might be concerning. If she had been on the suppressors for so long, going out, even in a place as safe as Velaris, could be problematic. Shit, even when he himself had taken one of the tabs, he still carried his scent and she was still reacting to it.

Another thing to ponder about. Later. When she returned, Feyre would find that he trusted her with proper cutlery, choosing to trust her. He perked up from his thoughts when she returned, gracing her with a little smile. "Ah, there you are, Feyre darling. Come, have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?"