Chapter 6 #16
And for the first time in seven centuries, I feel like I might actually become someone worth starting with. Chapter 27: Hannah
Stone Court looks different when you enter it by choice.
The mountain rises before us as we crest the final ridge—all black granite and glittering crystal, carved directly into the peaks by creatures who measure time in millennia.
I’ve seen it before, of course. Saw it the day I arrived as a tribute, exhausted and terrified and determined to die with dignity.
But I didn’t really see it then. Didn’t notice the way the fortress seems to grow out of the mountain itself, as if the stone simply decided to become a castle.
Didn’t see the waterfalls that cascade down the eastern face, or the gardens carved into impossible ledges, or the way the setting sun turns the whole structure to flame.
It’s beautiful.
It might be home. Someday. If I let it.
The thought settles into my chest alongside the bond, and I’m surprised to find it doesn’t terrify me as much as it should.
“Ready?” Karax asks, his massive hand warm around mine.
I take a breath. Square my shoulders. “Ready.”
We ride through the gates together—not as captor and captive, not as Guardian and tribute, but as… something else. Something we’re still figuring out. The guards bow as we pass, and I see the confusion in their ancient eyes. They expected me to come back broken, or not at all.
Instead, I’m sitting straight in my saddle, my hand intertwined with Karax’s, wearing fighting leathers that have been cleaned and mended, a look on my face that dares anyone to comment.
“They’re staring,” I murmur.
“Let them stare.” He squeezes my fingers. “They’ll have to get used to a lot of things.”
The great hall is packed when we enter.
Two hundred Fae, maybe more—warriors and nobles and servants, all of them turning to watch as the Guardian walks through the doors with his human omega at his side.
Word has spread, of course. The Guardian’s omega leaving in the middle of the night.
The Guardian following days later. Both of them returning together, looking like something has fundamentally shifted between them.
The whispers start immediately.
I can’t hear individual words, but I can feel the weight of speculation pressing against me from all sides. What happened? Why did she leave? Why did she come back?
Is she really still his, after everything?
Lord Greymun is in the front row, his bronze face a mask of barely concealed contempt.
He’s standing straighter than usual, more confident.
The bruises from when Karax nearly killed him have faded, but I can see the memory of that humiliation burning in his eyes.
He thought I was gone for good. Thought my departure meant his position was restored, his schemes could continue unchecked.
He was wrong.
“Guardian.” He steps forward, his bow just shallow enough to be insulting. “We’re relieved to see you’ve returned. And your…” He pauses, letting his gaze slide over me with obvious disdain. “…omega. We feared something had happened.”
“Something did happen.” Karax’s voice echoes through the hall, and I feel the stone floor tremble beneath our feet. Crystal formations along the walls pulse brighter, responding to his power. “Lady Hannah required time to process certain… revelations about the nature of our bond.”
Whispers ripple through the crowd. I see curiosity, speculation, a few faces that look almost sympathetic. Most look skeptical. A human omega who left and came back—what does that make me? Weak? Broken? Too pathetic to survive on my own?
I lift my chin and let them wonder.
“She has processed them,” Karax continues, his voice carrying to every corner of the cavernous space. “And she has chosen to remain at my side. Freely. Without compulsion.”
More whispers. I can almost hear the questions—how? why? after everything?
“Furthermore.” Karax releases my hand and steps forward, his massive frame commanding attention.
He’s eight feet of bronze muscle and ancient power, and when he speaks, the mountain itself seems to listen.
“Lady Hannah will no longer be merely my omega. She will have a voice in this council. Her word carries my authority. When she speaks on matters of tribute, of village relations, of the human territories under our protection—she speaks for Stone Court.”
Silence.
Not the awed silence of acceptance. The tense silence of a court that doesn’t know how to react. I watch it ripple through the crowd—shock, disbelief, and on many faces, barely concealed outrage. A human woman, given voice in Stone Court? A voice that carries the Guardian’s authority?
Unprecedented. Unacceptable. A violation of everything they believe about the natural order.
“That’s unprecedented,” Greymun says, his careful composure cracking. “A human cannot—”
“A human just did.” I step forward to stand beside Karax, my head barely reaching his chest but my presence filling the space regardless. I’ve spent eight years protecting a village full of people who underestimated me. I know how to hold my ground.
“I walked into this arena and drew blood from your Guardian when no one else had managed it in seven centuries.” My voice rings clear through the hall, and I feel the warriors’ attention sharpen. “I survived claiming, survived revelation, survived betrayal. And I chose to come back.”
I let my gaze sweep across the assembled lords and warriors, meeting as many eyes as I can. Making them see me. Making them acknowledge that I’m here, that I’m staying, that I won’t be dismissed.
My gaze lands on Greymun last. I hold his stare until he looks away.
The silence stretches. No one salutes. No one pounds their chest or offers respect. But no one challenges me either. They’re waiting, I realize. Watching to see if I’m worth taking seriously, or if I’ll crumble under the weight of their disapproval.
I won’t give them the satisfaction.
“I look forward to working with this council,” I say, and my voice doesn’t waver. “I have eight years of experience with the sharp end of Stone Court’s policies. I know what villages need to survive. And I know what happens when those needs aren’t met.”
A few of the warriors shift uncomfortably. Good. Let them be uncomfortable. Let them think about the human cost of the system they’ve been upholding.
“We will discuss specific reforms in council,” Karax says, his hand finding the small of my back—possessive, supportive. “For now, know that Lady Hannah speaks with my voice. Disrespect to her is disrespect to me.”
His power pulses through the room, making the crystals flare and the stone groan. A reminder of what he is. What he can do to anyone who crosses him.
The hall begins to empty. Lords and warriors file out, most avoiding my gaze. A few nod—not respect, exactly, but acknowledgment. They’ll wait and see. They’ll watch me prove myself or fail.
Greymun is the last to leave. He pauses at the door, looking back at us with an expression I can’t quite read.
Calculation, certainly. Hatred, probably.
But something else too—patience. The patience of someone who’s been playing political games for centuries and knows that one setback doesn’t mean defeat.
He’ll be a problem. I can feel it in my bones.
But that’s a problem for tomorrow.
When we’re finally alone, Karax’s hand slides from my back to my waist, pulling me against him.
“You did well,” he murmurs.
“I was terrified.”
“It didn’t show.” He tilts my chin up, making me meet his golden eyes. “You belonged up there, Hannah. At my side.”
“We’re trying,” I remind him. “That’s all we said. We’re trying.”
“We’re trying,” he agrees. A smile tugs at his mouth. “And you’re already better at it than I expected.”
“Low bar.”
“Very low.” He kisses me—brief, warm, promising more. “Now let me take you to our chambers. I think we’ve both earned some rest.”
Our chambers. Not his anymore. Ours.
It’s a small thing, but it matters.
“Is rest really what you have in mind?” I ask.
His answering growl rumbles through his chest, and I feel it vibrate against my body. “Eventually.”
He scoops me up like I weigh nothing and carries me through the halls of Stone Court—past servants who pretend not to stare, past guards who definitely do stare, past the crystal formations that pulse with his satisfied power.
I let myself relax into his arms and think about what comes next.
The council meeting tomorrow. The reforms we need to propose. The resistance we’ll face from Greymun and his allies. The long, slow work of changing a system that’s been grinding humans down for millennia.
It won’t be easy. Nothing about this will be easy. We’re trying to be partners, and he’ll slip back into old patterns, and I’ll have to call him on it, and we’ll fight, and we’ll fail, and we’ll try again.
But for the first time since I walked into Stone Court, I feel like I might actually have a chance.
Not to fix everything. Not to make it perfect. Just to make it better. One council meeting at a time. One reform at a time. One day at a time.
And that’s enough.
For now, that’s enough. Chapter 28: Hannah
Three weeks after we return to Stone Court, my heat comes back.
I wake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, my skin burning, that familiar hollow ache pulsing between my thighs. But this time, I don’t fight it. This time, I roll over and press myself against the massive body beside me.
“Karax.”
He’s awake instantly—I feel it through the bond before his eyes even open. His hand finds my hip in the darkness, and I hear his sharp intake of breath as he scents the air.
“You’re in heat.”
“I know.” I climb on top of him, straddling his hips, feeling his cock already hardening against my ass. Even soft, it’s intimidating—I can feel the thickness of it pressing between my cheeks, the ridges catching on my skin as it swells. “And this time, I’m not fighting it.”