Chapter 27: The Silver Eye Collision

Kaelen’s POV

The world inside the wooden cottage narrowed down to one overwhelming point of light.

A sharp, irritating odour of tear gas spread out in white clouds over the broken floorboards, scorching the back of my throat and tearing at my lungs. Outside, rain hit the roof in a wild, loud manner, with intermittent bursts of high-pitched wails from further alarms down the road.

I didn't take my weapon, and I didn't go towards the door at which Victoria's lead operative was standing, his gloved fingers tightening around the stock of his weapon.

The bedroom door creaked open in the middle of the drifting white smoke.

A small figure in the shadows stepped out onto the old rug, rubbing his left eye with a small fist that had been curled up. Lachlan wore his large navy pajamas and had messy dark hair, one side standing up from sleep. In his right hand, he held his small, faded blue blanket, and his feet made no sound on the cold wood.

"Mommy?" he called, his voice small, sweet, and in no way affected by the guns, the blood, or the corporate monsters who were tearing down the walls around him. "Why is it smoky here?"

"Lachlan, get back!" Valkyrie screamed, her voice breaking with a dreadful and intense panic.

She dashed forward, throwing herself across the floor, her dark coat flowing behind her like a broken wing; she stretched out to put her body over him, but before her fingers reached his shoulder, the boy looked past her.

He looked straight at me.

Lachlan brought his hand down from his face. The silver moonlight, which was filtering in through the broken front window, fell sharply and stunningly upon his face.

My heart didn't just miss a beat; it broke apart into a thousand sharp pieces right within my ribs.

I froze, my breath getting stuck in my throat like liquid lead.

The eyes looking back at me were two striking, incredibly clear and brilliant silver irises set within a ring of deep, stormy charcoal. They were more than just similar; they weren't merely a resemblance. They were my own eyes. The precise and unmistakable genetic abnormality that had characterized the Vance bloodline over three generations. The same silver eyes that I had seen reflected in the mirror each morning I dressed in fifty-thousand-dollar suits to fight in corporate battles.

For four long years, I had convinced myself that Valkyrie was a mercenary; I made myself believe she had left with a secret lover, having exchanged my heart for the freedom of living off the grid and easy money. I cultivated a cold, poisonous hatred to keep myself from drowning in her memory.

In an instant, all the lies I had built to get through her absence burned to ash.

"My God," I breathed, the words coming straight from the most genuine and heartfelt part of my soul.

I dropped hard on both knees, the impact driving my kneecaps into the stiff timber. I didn't give a damn about the enforcer, nor did I care about Croft's raised firearm or the three black armored SUVs parked at the gate.

"Kaelen, go back!" Valkyrie gasped, pulling Lachlan with her body quivering with a severe and violent tremor. Clean tears formed, leaving bright streaks through the soot and ash on her pale cheeks. "Don't look at him! Don't you even think about touching him!"

"He's mine," I whispered, my voice breaking and dropping into a rough, harsh tone that shook my chest. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with a terrible and painful blend of grief, wonder, and deadly determination. "Valkyrie... he's my son."

Lachlan did not run. He did not hide behind Valkyrie's coat.

He put his head out beside her hip, with a frightening and unusually sharp intensity, staring at me. He looked at the floor between us, where the black wooden chess rook was resting in the mud close to my knee.

“You have the same eyes as the picture in the box,” Lachlan said softly, his little voice cutting through the thick, chemical haze. “Mommy cries whenever she looks at the drawing under the floorboard.”

Valkyrie gave a stifled, heart-wrenching sob, raising her hands to her mouth as she collapsed sideways onto the table leg, her shoulders rising and falling.

A sudden surge of crude, instinctive possessiveness shot through my blood, so intense and capable of melting the ice that had been freezing my heart for the past four years. I looked at the boy, then turned my head slowly towards the doorway where Victoria’s lead operative was standing.

The operative aimed his sidearm directly at Lachlan's chest. "Mr. Vance, your mother has given strict instructions that the child remains in Port Campbell and the girl comes with us to Melbourne—"

Before the man could finish his sentence, I took action.

I never behaved as a member of the corporate executive class; instead, I acted like a father whose world was under threat. I surged up from the floor like a wounded beast, covering the distance between us in a matter of seconds. With my left hand, I grasped the operative's wrist and twisted the steel barrel upwards; at the same time, a loud BOOM exploded in the air, blowing a hole through the ceiling rafters.

I shoved my right forearm firmly into his windpipe, driving him backwards through the broken doorway, causing his body to slam into the porch railing until the wooden beam broke with a loud crack.

The man groaned, dropping his weapon as he fell three feet into the mud below.

I stood on the edge of the broken porch, rain lashing against my face, my chest rising and falling heavily as I looked back into the dark room. Croft was on his feet, holding Chloe's collapsed body against his chest, while Valkyrie clutched Lachlan tightly against her heart, her eyes wide with terror, something deep, ancient and certain.

"Get your stuff," I grumbled, my voice dropping to a depth so dark it made the floorboards vibrate beneath their feet. "Get your stuff right now, Valkyrie."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Kaelen!" she screamed back through her tears.

Before I stepped back inside, the radio fitted on the operative's tactical vest cracked to life in the mud beneath the porch.

Victoria's cold, aristocratic voice rang out through the tiny speaker, clear and sharp above the howling storm:

“Unit one, report. The federal warrant for Valkyrie's immediate arrest has just been signed by the High Court. If Kaelen interferes… treat him as a hostile asset."