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“Permanently.”

She studied him for a long moment, then snorted. “What changed?”

He considered how to explain the transformation of his entire existence in the span of a few weeks. “I found something worth staying for.”

“The human female and the younglings?”

He nodded.

“Huh.” Jerra tossed him a tool belt. “Well, if you’re serious about settling, I’ve got a pile of work that needs doing. Let’s see if you’re as good as you claim.”

The day passed in a blur of repairs and diagnostics. He found more satisfaction in the work than he’d expected—the methodical solving of problems, the gratitude of customers, the sense of being part of a community rather than merely passing through it. By mid-afternoon, even Jerra seemed impressed, though she tried to hide it.

“Not bad,” she grudgingly admitted as they closed up the shop. “Come back tomorrow, and I might even pay you.”

He felt a lightness in his step as he headed home.Home.The word still felt strange, but welcome. He had purchased fresh provisions on his way, including a sweet treat that he thought the children might enjoy. The thought of their excited faces made his pace quicken.

As he approached the house, something felt wrong. The door stood partially open. No sounds of children playing reached his sensitive ears. A cold dread settled in his stomach.

“Kara?” he called, pushing the door fully open. “Rory? Talia?”

No answer.

He moved swiftly through the house, every sense alert. In the main living area, he found them—or rather, two of them. Kara lay crumpled on the floor, a thin trickle of blood seeping from awound on her temple. Rory knelt beside her, rocking back and forth, his small hands fluttering frantically.

“Kara!” He dropped to his knees beside her, checking for a pulse. It was there, steady but faint. Relief warred with rising panic as he gently examined the injury. A blow to the head, but not severe enough to explain her continued unconsciousness.

“Rory,” he said as calmly as he could manage. “What happened? Where is Talia?”

The boy continued rocking, his eyes unfocused, lost in the repetitive motion that soothed him when overwhelmed. Thraxar recognized the signs of extreme distress. With careful movements, he reached out and placed his hand where Rory could see it, not touching but offering connection.

“It is all right,” he said softly. “I am here now. You are safe.”

Gradually, Rory’s rocking slowed. His gaze flickered to Thraxar’s face, then away.

“Can you show me what happened?” he asked.

Rory stilled completely. Then, with deliberate movements, he stood and walked to the front door. He pointed outside, then made a grabbing motion with his hands.

“Someone took Talia?” Cold fury rose in his chest.

Rory nodded, then mimed something being sprayed or thrown.

“They used something on Kara? A gas or chemical?”

Another nod. Rory returned to his mother’s side, touching her face with gentle fingers.

Thraxar’s mind raced. A targeted abduction, not a random attack. Someone knew about Talia and had come specifically for her. The realization sent ice through his veins.

He needed to get Kara medical attention, but he couldn’t leave Rory alone. And every moment that passed meant Talia was being taken further away. His protective instincts screamed at him to hunt down whoever had taken her, to tear them apartwith his bare hands. But the rational part of his mind knew he needed help.

With careful movements, he lifted Kara from the floor. Her head lolled against his chest, her breathing shallow but stable.

“Rory,” he said gently. “We need to get your mother help. Then we will find Talia. I promise.”

The boy hesitated, then reached up to grasp Thraxar’s tail. The simple gesture of trust nearly undid him.

As they stepped outside, he scanned the surrounding area for any sign of the abductors. Nothing obvious remained, but his sensitive nose picked up an unfamiliar scent—metallic and artificial. He committed it to memory as he hurried toward the medical facility, Rory clinging to his tail.