Page 32 of Obsession

Chapter

Twenty

Britta

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real. I repeated the mantra in my head, eyes squeezed shut against the reality of being fifty feet up in a massive tree.

I couldn’t tell Kann that I was afraid of heights. Not after I’d already panicked about being stuck in the holochamber. What kind of soldier was claustrophobicandafraid of heights? My cheeks burned from the humiliation of my fears, but it made them no less real.

What wasn’t real was the tree, I reminded myself. I wasn’t actually hundreds of feet in the air. I was still inside the compact holochamber. Ugh. Thinking about being trapped in there didn’t help. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on my breath. In and out. Deep and slow.

The simulation might feel real, but it wasn't. The towering tree was only light and energy. The only real things in the simulation were me and Kann. Kann was real.

I focused on the solid wall of muscle pressed against my back, the strength in his arms as they held me securely against him. His face was close to mine, his scruff scratching lightly against my cheek as he whispered reassurances in my ear. That spicy, woodsy scent that was uniquely him surrounded me, grounding me in the moment.

My breathing steadied as I concentrated on those tangible things—the warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against my back, the firmness of his muscle as he held me in place and kept me from falling.

Despite our precarious perch on the tree branch, I did feel safe in Kann’s arms. Where else had I felt safe?

Not in my childhood home, where every day had been a struggle to keep the lights on, to keep food on the table. Not in the schools, where teachers looked at me with pity or disdain when I talked about wanting to be an inventor. I hadn’t known what an engineer was, but I had known I wanted to build things. But girls who came from the wrong side of town didn’t go to college, and they certainly didn’t become engineers.

I might have proven them all wrong, but that didn’t soften the memories. That didn’t erase the cruel bullying. Kids were mean to kids who were different, and I’d been punished for being a smart girl who wouldn’t stay in her place.

Even when I’d proved myself by getting a full ride to college, courtesy of the Air Force, I’d had to battle against men who didn’t think women should be given the same shots, superior officers who pushed me harder than the men in the hope of weeding me out, and other women who had seen me as nothing but competition for a few precious spots.

Home hadn’t been safe. School hadn’t been safe. The Air Force hadn’t been safe.

But then an image floated into my mind: Fiona's quarters at the academy, with her girly decor and cushions scatteredacross the floor. There was the sound of cards being shuffled, ice clinking in glasses, and female laughter—real, joyful laughter.

I could see them all so clearly: Morgan perched on a cushion, her long legs crossed at the ankles as she organized her cards with military precision. Jess with her brown hair in a ponytail as she eyed her cards shrewdly. Fiona lounging against the wall, dealing cards and pouring drinks. Ariana cursing colorfully in Drexian every time she lost a hand.

The memory was so vivid I could smell the sweet spice of the Drexian wine, could hear the rustle of cards, could taste the yeasty bread someone had invariably smuggled from dinner.

As crazy and unexpected as it was, the Drexian Academy had become my safe space. For the first time in my life, I felt like I truly belonged somewhere.

These women weren't just friends—they were family. None of them were competing with me. They all wanted me to succeed. They all believed—like I did—that we rose and fell together. We were better and stronger when we worked together and helped each other achieve. We championed each others’ success as if it were our own, and we would do anything for each other. Anything.

“They'll get us out," I mumbled, sleep starting to blur the edges of my consciousness.

"Who will?" Kann's voice was a deep purr in my ear, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine despite my exhaustion.

"Ariana, Fiona, Jess, Morgan, all of them," I said, certainty warming my chest. "I know they will."

Kann's arms tightened around me, pulling me impossibly closer. "I know they will too."

The simulated forest was alive with night sounds—the soft hooting of owls, the rustle of branches in the wind, the chirping of insects. But wrapped in Kann's embrace, even my fear of heights seemed distant and manageable. His steady heartbeatagainst my back was like a lullaby, and I found myself drifting closer to sleep.

Just before consciousness slipped away entirely, I realized something that should have terrified me but instead felt completely right: I trusted Kann. Trusted him to keep me safe through the night, trusted him not to let me fall. The last thing I remembered was the gentle press of his chin against my temple and the soft whisper of words I was too far gone to make out.

For the first time since we'd been trapped in this simulation, I felt truly safe. Not because of where we were, but because of who I was with. As sleep finally claimed me, I wondered if maybe I'd found another place where I belonged—with Kann.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Fiona

The battle schematics hung in the air behind me, ghostly, blue holograms showing troop movements across ancient terrain. As my first-year class filed out of the stadium-style classroom, their conversation animated and their boots slapping the steps, I couldn't shake the feeling that they looked impossibly young. I only hoped they stayed that way.

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