Page 23 of Obsession

I hoped he was right, but the longer we stayed trapped in the simulation, the longer it seemed like more than a glitch.

"Exit!" My voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "Display exit!" The command felt hollow in my throat. "Computer, display holochamber exit!"

“It must have been the flickering power and the brief blackout.” His voice was maddeningly calm. “Maybe the entire academy experienced a power surge.”

I bit back a sharp response. Of course, it was connected to the blackout—that was exactly what made my pulse jangle.

I knew this technology well. A power surge that caused a blackout could have damaged the circuitry, which was not good. When we were in the holochamber, we weren't just wandering in some fancy virtual reality program. Our bodies were literally converted to energy patterns, woven into the fabric of the program itself. One serious degradation in the system and we could…

I shut down that line of thinking. No need to panic Kann with worst-case scenarios, although even a Blade would know enough about holo technology to know the dangers. I’d seen his reaction to being in a program with the safety protocols disabled. He understood what could happen.

I returned my focus to the wall, running my hands along the surface. There must be a seam somewhere.

"Britta." Kann put a hand on my arm, stilling my urgent movements. "Drexians have been perfecting this technology for centuries. As long as the security protocols are engaged, we’re perfectly safe. And once someone realizes we’re in here, they can fix the program from the control panel and we’ll be free.”

Safe, I repeated in my mind. Being trapped in the holochamber didn’t feel safe. I knew exactly how large the holographic compartment was, despite how it looked now, and the thought of being trapped inside it made old, claustrophobic feelings bubble to the surface of my brain.

The walls suddenly felt closer, the air thicker. Memories flashed unbidden—choking smoke, crackling flames, the paralyzing certainty that I was going to die before my father's arms found me in the darkness. My chest tightened, my heart raced, and I couldn't seem to pull in enough air.

I doubled over and braced my hands on my knees, sucking in greedy breaths as all sound devolved into ringing. I fought to remember the techniques I’d learned to help me deal with the childhood trauma of being trapped in a house fire.

Deep breaths. Visualize being in my safe space.

I dragged in a breath and imagined myself on a white-sand beach with a cloudless, blue sky and waves lapping the shore. That was better.

I’m safe. I’m safe.

A warm arm curled around my shoulders. "Britta, look at me."

I lifted my head and Kann's face swam into focus, his gaze questioning. Before I could protest, he pulled me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head.

"Breathe with me," he murmured, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. "That's it. I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I promise.”

I should have pulled away. I should have told him I was fine, like I always did when someone tried to help. Instead, I let myself lean into him, matching my breathing to his until the panic evaporated. His warmth seeped into me, and I became acutely aware of every point where our bodies connected. My heart was still racing, but for entirely different reasons now.

Part of me knew I should be embarrassed by falling apart in front of him, but another part of me didn’t care. I was tired of always pretending I was okay. It was exhausting being tough and capable and never faltering.

It was no shock that I had gone from being a kid who could suck it up and move on to being a student who could handle a ton of stress to being an officer who could take on the burden of being one of the first female cadets at the academy. The question wasn’t if I could handle it, but if I always needed to.

It felt good to let go of the illusion of impenetrable perfection. It felt good to let someone see that I wasn’t a machine. It felt good to let Kann see the real me.

When I finally stepped back, my cheeks burning, I caught something in his expression that made my pulse skip.

“I am frightened, too,” he confided before I could launch into a lame apology.

That stopped me. A badass Blade was scared? “You are?”

“About being stuck inside a holographic program?” He barked out a tight laugh. “I was only trying to hide my concern because of you.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” I released a low laugh. “I think I freaked out enough for both of us.”

“Do you feel better now?”

I wanted to tell him why I’d had such a strong reaction, but I didn’t like to talk about my childhood. It only brought back more bad memories. I’d been able to move forward in life by keeping all my darkest memories buried. Telling Kann the truth would tear down all my carefully constructed walls. Worst of all, it would make him look at me differently. I could take a lot, but I couldn’t take pity.

I managed a bright smile that I was sure looked absurd. “All better.”

He nodded, although he didn’t look fully convinced. But before either of us could speak, a deep voice boomed through the corridor:

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