Silver Creek crimes against children are so easy to get away with.

The memories clicked into place at Bat's words. Redhawks. That was the scent. It was the scent of being in a foreign place, of missing his mother and worrying fiercely for the safety of her and all of his loved ones. Of wanting to prove himself and the bitter disappointment of being denied it. It was the scent of being out of place and lonely and homesick. But more than that, it was not the scent of home and of family. And yet, his young sister had just told him that she lived with them now.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Artaax kept his expression empty and his tongue mute as he processed her words and the thoughts she prompted with them. But as practiced as he was at holding his emotions in, nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

His brows lifted in surprise as ice slid into the pit of his stomach. What was she talking about, Kiwi and Mom with the Redhawks, to whom she was now loyal? Who the fuck was Sequoia? He blinked rapidly, not understanding a single ridiculous thing coming out of his sister's mouth, but quickly finding anger rising to overpower the sudden hurt that was attempting to bloom and make itself known.

Artaax swallowed hard, forcing the emotion back to where it could hide again beneath his stoic facade. "What do you mean Mom is there?" he asked, stepping nearer to her, his voice hushed dangerously, "What do you mean you're... loyal.. to them? We are Drakru. There is no loyalty but to Drageda." He fixed his dual-toned eyes squarely upon hers expectantly.