Zee was in a state of tired bliss.
That was the first thing Jax noticed when they returned to the hotel.
She barely made it through the door before he guided her to the bed, her steps unsteady, her glow dimmed to a soft, content warmth. She crawled beneath the covers without a word, a pillow tucked instinctively between her knees, and was asleep before her head fully hit the mattress.
Jax lingered for a moment.
For just a second, he thought he saw her thumb brush her lips, a faint smile settling in as if she'd found some private, perfect place to rest.
"I guess you found your happy place," he murmured.
He closed the door softly behind him.
The bathroom was attached to the master bedroom, and the rest of the Vixens were careful as they passed — not that it mattered. Zee was gone. Jax doubted a dragon's roar would have stirred her now.
He showered, letting the day rinse away, and emerged as he always did — air-drying rather than reaching for a towel, shaving with meticulous care.
The Vixens watched with their usual mix of amusement and appreciation.
It was still strange to them.
Most men in this world wore their beards like badges of adulthood. Chest hair was common. Grooming beyond necessity was rare.
Jax ignored all of that.
Clean. Precise. Intentional.
When he finally stepped out, dressed and ready, the city outside was already alive.
Tonight marked the beginning of the Festival of Summer.
The true celebrations would peak over the next two nights, but the opening evening was enough to transform Solmere entirely. Vendors lined the streets in dense rows, lanterns glowing, music carrying from every corner.
This was the Vixens' third festival in the city.
And still, it surprised them.
Solmere — a dirt-road town for most of the year — became a crossroads when summer came. Traders from across the lands arrived with wagons full of goods. Tourists flooded in. Performers claimed street corners.
And tonight, something else stood out.
Humans.
More than usual.
Jax noticed it immediately.
I guess it's the same everywhere, he thought. Good and bad mixed together.
He also noticed something else.
They weren't dominant.
Humans laughed alongside beastkin. Adventuring parties formed of mixed races moved easily through the crowds. No one flinched. No one bowed.
Solmere didn't care what the Empire thought it should be.
They walked toward the Neon Moon, where a line already wrapped around the building. Rather than push through, Jax led the group around back.
Ownership had its quiet privileges.
The staff erupted into cheers the moment they entered through the rear entrance. Jax paused to greet them all, complimenting sauces, sampling meats, tasting new preparations with approving nods that made the kitchen staff beam.
He'd insisted on overstaffing for the festival.
It showed.
The Neon Moon was packed. Every table filled. Voices rose in happy noise, plates clinked, laughter echoed. He caught snippets of conversation — his other two restaurants were just as overwhelmed.
The menu expansions had paid off.
So had the pricing.
Quality spoke for itself.
They slipped into their reserved booth — large enough for a dozen — tucked into the back corner. Mead arrived almost instantly, courtesy of the new General Manager.
Stevano.
Former shift leader. Demonkin. Twenty-five and already running the busiest restaurant in the city.
They talked as food arrived — about Zee's training, her new skills, how Sanctum of the Living would change everything for them.
Llandra had already explained her own abilities.
Together, it painted a picture none of them had fully grasped until now.
They weren't just an adventuring party anymore.
They were becoming something else.
Something dangerous.
The last ten days had reshaped everything.
Each of them glanced around the packed restaurant, watching Solmere thrive.
He changes everything around him — unaware the others were thinking the same.
The appetizers hit the table.
Then Stevano reappeared.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said quietly. "There's… an issue at reception."
Jax stood immediately. "Please excuse me."
Nyxian smirked. "Want help? Need some heads cracked?"
"I'll manage," Jax replied calmly. "Enjoy."
He followed Stevano toward the front.
The problem revealed itself instantly.
Five human men stood at the entrance, dressed as civilians but carrying themselves like soldiers.
One stepped forward.
"Oh good. A human." His eyes flicked dismissively to the staff. "Tell these demihumans we'll be seated immediately. By order of the Empire."
Jax regarded him evenly.
"An imperial decree requiring humans to be seated ahead of others?" he asked politely. "I wasn't aware of that. Do you have the paperwork?"
The men stiffened.
There was no decree.
"Listen, beastlover," the leader snapped. "Seat us now, or there will be consequences."
Jax blinked once.
Then smiled.
"I'll tell you what I can do."
He stepped forward, resting an arm companionably around the man's shoulders, steering him gently outside — the others following, confused.
"I can escort you to the back of the line," Jax said pleasantly, voice rising so the waiting patrons could hear, "where you'll wait like everyone else."
His tone sharpened.
"Because here at the Neon Moon, we don't care about skin color, fur, horns, or the lack thereof. We care that everyone enters with a smile and leaves with a bigger one."
He pointed at the back of the line.
"I've even saved you a spot."
The soldiers exploded with insults — traitor, beastlover, filth.
Jax listened calmly.
Then shrugged.
"If that doesn't suit you," he said, stepping back inside, "I recommend another establishment."
Behind him, mixed adventuring parties nodded in approval.
Humans and beastkin alike.
Jax paused just inside the door, listening to the festival outside.
Good and bad everywhere, he thought.
But that wouldn't stop him.
Not now.
Not ever.