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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

K ara’s head throbbed as consciousness returned in painful waves. The clinical smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils, and bright lights pierced her eyelids before she even opened them. When she finally did, the world swam before resolving into focus.

Rory’s face hovered inches from hers, his eyes wide with fear. His fingers fluttered rapidly at his sides—a sure sign of his distress. Behind him, Thraxar paced the small medical room, his tail lashing with barely contained fury.

“Rory,” she whispered, her throat dry and scratchy. She reached for him, and he immediately pressed himself against her side, his small body trembling.

Thraxar was at her side in the next moment, his large form seeming to fill the entire space beside the bed. “You’re awake again.” Relief and rage battled in his voice. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone used my head for target practice.” She tried to sit up and winced. “Help me up?”

His strong hands supported her back as she shifted into a sitting position. The room tilted briefly before settling. “Talia,” she said, memories flooding back. “They took Talia.”

“Yes.” The single word contained volumes of promised violence.

She closed her eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. “I was having such a good day.”

The morning had been perfect—waking up beside Thraxar, his scales warm against her skin, watching his face soften as he looked at her before he left for his first day at Jerra’s shop. He’d kissed her deeply, promised to return early, and headed out with a lighter step than she’d ever seen from him.

She and the children had spent the morning arranging their meager belongings in the house, making plans for what they would need.

Talia had found an old broom and swept the main living area with determined concentration while Rory arranged his collection of objects in various corners, marking his territory in his own way.

By afternoon, they’d ventured into the small garden, clearing away dead plants and discovering a few hardy vegetables that had survived neglect. Talia had laughed—actually laughed—when a small lizard-like creature scurried across her bare toes.

“We were making dinner,” she said, the memories becoming clearer. “Rory was helping me chop those purple root vegetables we found in the garden.”

Rory made a soft humming sound beside her, his fingers now tracing patterns on her arm.

“Talia was stirring the pot,” she continued. “And then…” She frowned. “Rory made a sound. Not his usual sounds—it was different. Like a warning.”

Thraxar moved closer, his attention fully on her. “What happened next?”

“I started to turn, but something hit me—a spray of some kind. It smelled sweet, then everything went dark.” She looked at him, panic rising. “Did they hurt Rory?”

“No.” His hand covered hers reassuringly. “He was unharmed physically. He was hiding under the table when I returned.”

She turned to her son, examining him with both a mother’s and a nurse’s eye. He seemed physically intact, but the trauma was evident in his rigid posture and the way he kept one hand firmly wrapped in her medical gown.

“Can you tell me anything about who took her?” Thraxar asked, his voice gentler than she’d expected given the tension radiating from his body.

“I didn’t see them. It happened too fast.” Guilt washed over her. “I should have been more alert. I should have?—”

“No,” he said firmly. “This is not your fault. The security team is searching the area, but they found little evidence. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”

A medical worker entered the room, checking her vitals on a nearby monitor. “The neuroinhibitor is clearing your system nicely,” they said. “You should be able to leave soon, though I recommend resting for the next twelve hours.”

“I don’t have twelve hours,” she said, already pushing herself toward the edge of the bed. “Someone took our daughter.”

The medical worker’s expression softened with sympathy. “I understand, but pushing yourself too hard won’t help find her.”

Thraxar made a low rumbling sound in his chest that Kara had come to recognize as frustration. “The trail grows colder with every passing moment.”

The medical worker glanced between them, then sighed. “I’ll prepare your discharge documentation. But please, try not to overexert yourself.”

After they left, she turned her attention to Rory. “Honey,” she said softly, “did you see who took Talia?”

Rory didn’t respond verbally, but his fingers stopped their tracing and his body went still.

“Rory,” she tried again, “anything you remember might help us find her.”

He slid off the bed and moved to a small table in the corner where someone had left a datapad. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands before bringing it to Kara.

“I think he wants to draw,” she told Thraxar. “He sometimes communicates better that way.”

Thraxar quickly configured the datapad to a drawing program and handed it back to Rory. The boy took it and began making precise movements with his finger across the screen. They watched in silence as an image slowly took shape.

It wasn’t detailed—Rory was only six—but the figure he drew had a distinctive silhouette. Tall, with an angular head and what appeared to be a uniform of some kind.

“That’s not much to go on,” Kara said, disappointment heavy in her voice.

But Thraxar leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. “The head shape,” he said. “And these markings on the uniform…” He looked at Rory. “Was there more than one person?”

Rory nodded and held up three fingers.

“Three,” Thraxar confirmed. “And did they say anything? Any words you remember?”

Rory’s face scrunched in concentration. He tapped at the datapad again, this time pulling up a text program. His spelling was rudimentary at best, but he managed to type out two words: TALA HOOM.

“Tala hoom?” she repeated, confused.

He went very still. “Not ‘tala hoom,’” he said quietly. “Tala’hom. It’s a dialect word. It means ‘reclamation’ or ‘retrieval.’”

“You recognize the language?”

“Yes.” His expression darkened. “And if I am right about the uniform markings Rory drew, I know who took her.”

She grabbed his arm. “Who?”

“A retrieval unit from Dornax. They specialize in recovering ‘property’ for their clients.”

“Property?” She felt sick. “Talia isn’t property!”

“To them, she is.” His voice was cold with fury. “Wren Dox must have reported her missing. If she belongs to someone with enough money and influence…”

“No.” She shook her head violently, ignoring the pain that lanced through it. “She doesn’t belong to anyone. She’s a child, not a possession.”

“I agree.” A big hand covered hers. “But Dornaxian retrieval units do not make those distinctions. They are hired to do a job, and they are very efficient.”

She pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly before finding her balance. “Then we need to stop them before they deliver her back to whoever thinks they own her.”

He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. “You need to rest.”

“I will rest when Talia is safe.” She met his eyes, her jaw set. “Tell me your plan.”

For a moment, she thought he might argue. Then his expression shifted, a hint of pride replacing the concern. “The Dornaxians will have a transport ship. Not large—they work in small teams—but fast. They will be heading for the nearest jump point to take her off-world.”

“How do we find them?”

“I already have.” He tapped his wrist device, bringing up a small holographic map. “The security team found residual engine signatures matching a Dornaxian light cruiser. They are following standard protocol—taking an indirect route to the jump point to avoid detection.”

“So we can intercept them?”

“Yes.” His eyes met hers. “But not ‘we.’ I will go after them. You need to stay here with Rory.”

“But—”

“Kara.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You are still recovering from the neuroinhibitor. And Rory needs you. He is already traumatized by what happened—he should not have to lose both his mother and sister.”

She wanted to argue, to insist on going with him, but she knew he was right. Rory stood beside her, pressed against her leg, his fingers twisting in the fabric of her medical gown. His other hand clutched the datapad, the image of the kidnapper still visible on the screen.

“How will you catch them?” she asked instead. “If their ship is as fast as you say…”

“My ship is faster.” A predatory smile curved his mouth. “And I know this sector better than they do. There’s a gravitational anomaly near the third moon—it creates a shortcut if you know how to navigate it.”

“And if you catch them? There are three of them.”

“I have faced worse odds.” He touched her face gently. “I will bring her back, Kara. I swear it.”

She believed him. In the short time she’d known him, Thraxar had never failed to keep his promises. “When will you leave?”

“Now. Every moment counts.” He looked down at Rory. “Will you help your mother get home safely?”

Rory nodded solemnly, his fingers still clutching Kara’s gown.

Thraxar knelt to Rory’s level. “I’m going to bring Talia back. You did well, showing us who took her. You’re very brave.”

The boy reached out hesitantly and touched Thraxar’s face, tracing the ridge above his eye. It was a gesture of trust that brought tears to her eyes.

Thraxar stood and pulled her into his arms, mindful of Rory still clinging to her side. “I will return with her,” he said softly against her hair. “And then we will make sure this never happens again.”

She clung to him for a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence. “Be careful,” she whispered. “We need you to come back too.”

He kissed her then, a fierce claiming that left her breathless. “I will always come back to you.”

Then he was gone, his long strides carrying him quickly from the medical room.

She looked down at Rory, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “Let’s go home and wait for them, okay?”

The medical worker returned with discharge instructions and a small container of medication for her lingering headache. She barely heard the instructions, her mind already racing ahead to what needed to be done.

The security team provided transportation back to their house. As she stepped through the door with Rory’s hand firmly in hers, the empty silence of the house slammed into her. Talia’s absence was a gaping wound in the space.

In the kitchen, evidence of the attack remained—vegetables scattered across the countertop, a pot of half-cooked stew congealed on the heating unit. A chair lay overturned where she must have fallen.

Rory tugged at her hand, pulling her away from the scene and toward the main living area. He pointed to the large window that overlooked the garden, then to the sky beyond.

“Yes,” she said, understanding his meaning. “Thraxar is up there, finding Talia.”

He nodded, then pulled her to the cushioned seating area. He arranged himself beside her, his small body pressed against hers as if afraid she might disappear too.

Kara wrapped her arm around him, drawing him close. “It’s okay to be scared,” she told him. “I’m scared too. But Thraxar will find her.”

Rory looked up at her with those solemn eyes that sometimes seemed to hold wisdom far beyond his years.

He reached for the datapad he’d brought from the medical facility and pulled up a new drawing program.

This time, he drew four figures standing together—a tall, broad one with a tail; a medium-sized one; and two smaller ones.

A family. Their family.

“Yes,” she whispered, tears threatening. “We’ll be together again soon.”

As darkness fell outside, she sat with Rory, watching the stars emerge one by one. Somewhere up there, Thraxar was hunting. Somewhere, Talia was afraid and alone.

But not for long. Not if Thraxar had anything to say about it.

And if there was one thing she had learned about her mate, it was that when it came to protecting what was his, nothing in the universe could stand in his way.