The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 737

Chapter 737 Rescue Arrives 

Above the water several drones hovered, their propellers slicing the air with mechanical impatience. 

Dawn’s excitement sparked like fireworks. She recognized the craft; in Kandria she had watched her mother direct similar drones to guard them. 

Hope burst through her lips: Mother had come. 

She was certain–her mother was here to save them. 

Even higher, larger aircraft traced wide circles, engines growling like watch dogs. 

These were not passenger planes; their dark underbellies bristled with rescue gear and 

weapons. 

The kidnappers‘ boat now floated inside a complete ring of metal, propellers, and steel–grey hulls. 

Nowhere to flee, Verity thought; the villains were trapped as neatly as fish in a bucket. 

“It’s Mom! My mom’s here to save us!” Dawn shouted, joy cracking her voice. 

Verity pushed himself off the floor and slid beside her, staring at the sudden armada in stunned silence. 

“How… how can you be sure it’s your mom?” he asked, awe tangled with disbelief. 

He watched the little one bounce on the edge of the cot, dark eyes sparkling. “My mom can control a whole swarm of drones at once!” she bragged, pride spilling faster than her words could keep up. 

Uncle Caleb had told her–again and again–that her mother was the strongest woman alive. Verity felt the certainty in Dawn’s tiny shoulders. 

Because of those stories, she clung to hope even now; fear sat behind her eyes, but it never quite closed its fist. Her mother would come. She believed it as firmly as breathing. 

Verity heard himself whisper, almost without breath, “Your mom is incredible…” The words tasted equal parts admiration and envy. 

A thought flicked, sharp and dangerous: Would his own mother break the sky to find him, or was he already forgotten behind some distant window? 

The metal door slammed inward so hard the hinges screamed. Two masked kidnappers filled the frame, their boots thudding like hammers against the boards. 

“Damn it!” the taller one barked, kicking a chair aside. “We ran every counter–trace I know and they still found us. Where’s the leak?” 

“Stop counting ghosts,” the other hissed. “They’re breathing down our necks. If we don’t slip free, we’re dead men.” 

“Captain Bridger says move the Whitethorn child to the deck,” the first relayed, voice tight with urgency. “He’s got some way out.” 

“Fine–grab her and go. Questions later.” 

The bigger man swept forward and snatched Dawn by the waist. Her shoes scraped the floor, a helpless squeak punching from her throat. 

She twisted, kicking wildly, small fists beating against his forearm, instinct screaming louder than words. 

Verity lunged, heart thundering, but a boot caught his ribs and flung him sideways. Air left his chest in a ragged wheeze. 

The men dragged Dawn through the doorway and the door slammed shut again, sealing Verity alone in stale darkness. 

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