Arriving at the house without the children was weird, but luckily someone was waiting for us to arrive. Tronis was sitting on the front steps in his human form, one of my flowerpots between his hands while intently watching it. Noah pulled up to the garage door and got out, I followed suit and gently shut the door so my husband wouldn't yell at me for slamming the doors shut again. He hates slamming car doors because he slammed his door closed a bit too hard once, and had to get a mechanic to fix the latching mechanism... It was a pricey fix.

Tronis looks up and stands, placing the pot down on the steps, and gives us both a kind smile. I hadn't seen this man in quite a while, but he looked the same as he's ever had: a few inches shorter than Noah, with an unkept fully grown beard and leaves and sticks tangled in his beard and long black hair. Wearing the same raggedy clothes, he mostly wears a deep brown flannel with a few holes strewn about with black Carhartt pants with obvious wear and tear. He looks like a homeless man since he lives in the forest and spends most of his time in his tree form, which is when he's roughly nine feet tall and looks similar to an ancient oak tree when he's not moving. The first time we ran into him, Noah and I nearly jumped out of our skin when we saw a walking and talking tree.

"Talia, Noah, you guys can't be letting your plants get to this state. It needs proper sunlight and plenty of water!" He chastises us, then looks around, "Where are the children? Percy is usually playing here."

"The cult has them," Noah replies, then looks down and rushes into the house. I let out a sigh and take a seat on the steps, and Tronis sits beside me.

"They were kidnapped, them and many other children throughout the entire world, and we're trying to come up with a plan to save them," I tell him, and then fill him in on everything that has happened. The look on his face went from worried to angered, then to saddened.

"I'm assuming that you need my assistance returning the children to their families?" Tronis questions, reaching for the flowerpot and expanding a small amount of magic to revive the dying plant. I don't have a green thumb, so most of the plants that I try to grow end up either not sprouting or dying within a week or so.

I nod in agreement and pull out my phone, finally turning it on after having it off and being radio silent since my children were taken. Noah feels responsible since he was the last one with them... I don't fault my husband for what happened, there had to be other things that were going on, he could've been knocked out when they were taken. Once my phone is booted up, I get a string of notifications from various apps, but there were also around a hundred texts from Faye. Most of them were her asking where I was and why I wasn't answering her, but the last one...

Talia, I will be coming over this weekend no matter what to make sure that you and the kids are okay, so be ready!

Letting out a sigh, I shut off my phone and hung my head. She sent that message this morning, most likely because I haven't responded to her texts or calls... Damnit. Why does she have to be a worry wart? Faye wasn't like this before I ran away.

Before that had happened—before I had met Jason—I was the one who doted on her and her parents. I helped them with everything from chores to cooking to training. I was the one that she leaned on, the one that was there when her father would yell and try to hit her. Henry Darkrose, Faye's father and my foster father, was a mean man and an even meaner drunk. He would drink excessively when the hunts he went on either brought nothing or had ended up with him losing men, and when that happened then he would take it all out on her and her mother. A few days before I met Jason and fell for him so hard that I thought I would never find another who made me so happy, I had shoved Henry down a flight of stairs for breaking Faye's arm and giving her a black eye. That night, I learned what kind of pain he brought her, and when Jason came into my life, I took the chance to run and get away from the monster that I saw as a father, but I left her there with him. I regret that decision, have always wished that I had brought her with me, but when we had made contact a couple of years ago, we stayed in contact and managed to hang out at least once a month since then.

I slipped my phone into my back pocket as I stood and entered the house, the smell of roses and vanilla invading my nose and it pulled a small, faint smile to my lips. Noah must've lit the candles. I walked through the living room, the pale green walls and deep dark oak flooring welcoming me home. I had chosen the paint colors for the entire house while he chose the flooring and tile, and then we had let the children choose the colors for their bathroom and bedrooms, although Travis was still too young to choose the color and we had him just grab a random swatch, and then used that color for his nursery.

I stepped into the kitchen and started up a pot of coffee, choosing my favorite medium-brew coffee grounds, and placed a white and grey floral mug beside the coffee maker. Letting out yet another sigh, I watched as the drip coffee was being made, just staring at the bean water as it dripped into the coffee pot and waited until it was full enough to pour. After pouring about half a cup into my mug, I added some caramel creamer and took a sip from it. Warmth spread through my chest as the liquid slid down to my stomach and my smile widened but grew wistful as I thought of my poor children yet again. What was Percy doing right now? Was she protecting her baby brother, or maybe she was finding a way out for them both? She was only six, nearly seven, but she was always so smart and clever... Even with a smile on my face, with it being sad and filled with yearning for my lovely children, a few tears formed and trailed down my cheeks.
A gasp leaves my lips as I crumble to the floor, spilling my precious coffee. Sobs wrack my whole body, a scream building in my throat and ice forming all around me, coating the floor and cabinets in a sheet of cold blue and growing thicker, the air growing colder and colder. It felt like my heart was breaking again but for a different reason. I sob louder, a scream building in my throat but unable to come out, as I curl up into a tight ball in the middle of the kitchen floor. I can feel my breathing quickening, my throat closing up and not letting any air fill my lungs, and the tears that stream down my cheeks freeze. After what felt like an eternity, a scream finally rips free, the sound being full of sadness and anguish.

I faintly hear my name being called, but when I look up all I see is a blurred image while the ice spreads to the ceiling and it becomes colder.

Warm hands grip my shoulders, shaking me before moving to my face. A feminine voice mutters something in what has to be Latin, the frozen tears on my face now melting back to the salty water they were before, and my vision clears just enough for me to see Noah's face a mere inch, maybe less, away from my own. I glanced up to where the woman's voice originated from and found my foster sister standing there, her blonde eyebrows pulled together and a worried look in her eyes. I pull away from Noah and wipe the tears away, then attempt to stand only to find out that my knees are too wobbly and weak to hold my weight. My husband helps me up when I nearly fall back down, and then he leads me away from the kitchen and into the deep green living room, placing me on the couch.

It has been ages since my emotions and magic have taken control like that. The last time was that awful night. That feeling has been held back many times with just pure force of will, shoving it so deep down that it could barely harm me. I know that it isn't healthy to bottle up emotions and that it can be dangerous and harmful to your mental, emotional, and physical health, but can you blame me? My magic is influenced by my emotions, so I have to try and keep at least one aspect of my strong feelings on lockdown.

Noah sits beside me and I allow my head to fall onto his shoulder as he gives me some pets and head scratches as though I'm a cat, all the while Faye sits across the room from us in the tan recliner that has seen better days. Tronis waltzes in and stands closest to the door, ready to run out if he has to. A sigh leaves my mouth, and yes I know that I have been sighing quite a bit, as I just close my eyes and let Noah soothe me. After a couple of minutes, Faye clears her throat and starts her interrogation.

"So, what happened to my niece and nephew?" She asks us, the question hanging in the silence of the room for a bit too long.

Sitting up, and shrugging Noah off of me, I give her the answer, "They were taken by the Children of Death, while on the way to Dylan's pack." More silence came.

She glanced between Noah and me, then looked around. Whatever she was thinking, whatever she was planning in that head of hers, she wouldn't share any time soon. After a few more minutes, Faye stood up and left the room, heading into the kitchen and out of sight. I glance at the other two in the room, but both men just shrug and stay where they are. A buzz came from my phone, and when I pulled it out, there was an unknown number calling.

I press the answer button and say, "Hello?" into the mic. The line was dead silent for a moment, but then a strange male voice replied.

"Is this Miss Talia?" He asks, his voice deep and rough, as though he spends most of his time screaming at the top of his lungs and it has caused damage to his vocal chords.

"This is her," I reply, putting it on speaker so that Noah and Tronis can listen in.

There was a pause, dead silence once again, but then he went on with talking. "I have some news for you, and whoever else is nearby. It is regarding your daughter and son... the wonderful little children that you created with a dragon. What lovely eyes and hair the girl has."

A growl sounds from both Noah and I, Tronis goes rigid and Faye peaks her head out of the kitchen to listen into this conversation. Who is this man?

"Now, now, there is no need to growl and get your fur and scales all ruffled. I wanted to let you know that they belong to us now and that they are exactly what we needed to complete our plans and help us bring Cyrial back to his former glory!" The man chuckled darkly, and I felt the temperature in the room rise slightly. "I'm very aware that you have a spy working within our inner circles, somehow giving you information on how we work and what, and who we have. When I find them, and I will, it won't be me giving them over to Cyrial."

"What are you talking about?" I inquire, placing my phone on the coffee table and accepting a cup of coffee from Faye.

The man chuckles once again, and his voice seems to go almost demonic, "Innocent little Persephone will be the one to slice your spy's little throat, and adorable little Travis will watch." Then the line goes dead.

The cup of coffee in my hand begins to boil, my eyes not leaving the phone screen. Who in the Nine Hells was that man, and why would he want to force my children into helping bring Cyrial back to the living world?

A knock sounds at the door, I notice Tronis open it in my peripheral vision and the person that comes in couldn't have arrived any sooner. I look up and meet a pair of emerald-green eyes.