All Chapters of Bound in Silver and Scars: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Kaelen's POV The armored Maybach's tyres made a humming sound on the wet asphalt of Princes Highway, producing a steady and rhythmic purr which failed to ease the tense, clutching sensation in my chest.The first faint light of dawn was appearing over the Victorian countryside, pouring through the thick, low-lying rain clouds a sickly yellow. The rain hit the tinted bulletproof glass in sharp and irregular bursts.Next to me in the backseat, my chief cybersecurity officer Devlin had a heavy workstation laptop strapped over his thighs. The glow from the three small screens coloured his face in electric blue and green. His fingers were rapidly pressing keys on a split mechanical keyboard, producing a frantic and accurate rhythm which had continued without interruption since we had passed the Melbourne city limits."Talk to me, Devlin," I said, my voice low and dark. I didn't look at him; my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead where the trees were becoming dark green streaks."This

Valkyrie's POV The silence in the kitchen was heavy, and it seemed as if the glass was about to shatter.Outside, the rain had become a continuous, suffocating drizzle, falling in a quiet, rhythmic pattern on the glass. Between us on the kitchen counter was Hamish’s encrypted satellite phone, the dark screen reflecting the morning light.“He's outside, Valkyrie. Kaelen. He is waiting at the gate.”I gripped the handle of the small folding knife in my cardigan pocket, my heart beating so hard against my ribs that it made my shoulders shake.I stared at his eyes, hoping to discover the stranger who had been behind the kind mask he had worn for four long years."I've been betrayed," I whispered, my voice becoming rough and painful. "All this time... after you brought my son into the world, after you rescued Chloe... were you working for him?"Hamish didn't move. He neither drew a weapon nor reached for his phone; instead, he sighed softly and heavily, a deep, exhausted sadness that st

Valkyrie's POV The rain had ceased, but the cottage walls were still damp and felt cold.Thirty-two carved wooden pieces were laid out on the scarred chessboard, which was situated on the worn wooden coffee table between us. My four-year-old son, Lachlan, sat with his legs crossed on the rug, his hands on his knees as he stared at the board with terrifying, silent concentration.On the sofa in the small room, Chloe lay covered by three thick wool blankets; the only noise was her steady, difficult breathing.Lachlan said softly, "Rook to E4." Although his little voice was high and small, there was a calm and certain determination in the way he spoke that made the hairs on my arms stand up.With a small, round hand he reached out and moved his black rook, trapping my white queen in a clean and impossible diagonal fork.I looked at the board, my mind refusing to take in the position. "Lachlan... you can't move the rook to that square at the moment since you haven't moved your knight y

Kaelen's POV My boots struck the damp pavement with a steady and heavy beat. The three armed SUVs, fifty yards behind me, moved along the curb, their headlights slicing through the mist in the tunnel.Marcus moved a little to my left, his hand tucked inside his jacket, his gaze directed over the dark storefronts and quiet alleys.Marcus said in a quiet voice to me, "The harbourmaster confirmed a small trawler cleared the dock fifteen minutes ago; if she's on that boat…" “She isn't on the boat,” I replied, speaking in a flat and cold tone. “Hamish Croft had used the harbour report as a diversion to break our perimeter; Valkyrie knows how to navigate coastal waters, and she knows that a storm is approaching from the Bass Strait, so she wouldn't have put Lachlan on an open trawler in four-metre swells.”“Then where is she?” Marcus asked, tightening down on his jaw. "Devlin’s tracking array is completely dead. Whatever EMP pulse Croft triggered in that pump shed fried our short-range

Valkyrie's POV The tea was cold, but I couldn't bring myself to set the ceramic cup down.My knuckles were translucent as I held the handle, sitting at the small pine table by the kitchen window. Outside, the fog came in from the Bass Strait in heavy, rolling, floating waves, engulfing the sharp shapes of the trees and turning the morning lurid, milky grey.In the adjacent corner of the room, Chloe's ventilator made a clicking and hissing sound, a fragile, mechanical pulse that measures every minute of my stolen life.Hamish was sitting across the table in his wet wool cardigan, his fingers wrapped around his own cup. Steam came up between us, forming a thin veil that separated his calm and clinical composure from the intense, quiet panic gripping at the inside of my ribs.He hadn't touched his breakfast nor had I.“You seem distant this morning, Val," Hamish said softly. His voice was always like that, careful and quiet, with the calm tone of a doctor who had delivered tons of bad