Chapter 1: Crosswind
738 Words
(POV: Amelia)
Kai Dawson was a mistake I never truly learned to leave behind.
And this morning—
That mistake came back.
The sky above Oxfordshire was still washed in pale gray when I stepped out of the briefing room. The metal door closed softly behind me, leaving a brief echo that was quickly swallowed by the cold morning air.
Everything felt normal.
Too normal.
A light wind swept across the runway, carrying the scent of jet fuel and heated metal—a smell that had always managed to steady my thoughts. A scent that meant control. Routine. Certainty.
Things that never failed.
Unlike people.
I paused at the steps, drawing in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out just as carefully. Calm. Measured. Focused.
It should have been enough.
It was always enough.
But today—
It wasn’t. Not completely.
Ten years in this world had taught me one thing: emotions are a liability. And in my line of work, liabilities get people killed.
That’s why I suppressed everything. Locked it away. Erased it.
Including him.
I started walking again, my boots hitting the concrete in a steady rhythm. Controlled. Just like my life now—no room for mistakes.
To my left, the ground crew moved with near-mechanical efficiency. Everyone knew their role. No hesitation. No wasted motion.
I liked that.
Because here, there were no surprises.
Until I saw the Atlas at the end of the runway.
Massive. Steady. Reliable.
Nothing like a fighter jet.
Nothing like him.
My steps slowed.
Something in the air shifted. Subtle, almost unnoticeable—but enough to feel. Like pressure building before a storm.
“I heard we’re getting fighter escort today.”
I stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second. But it was enough.
“Who?” I asked without turning.
“From the fighter squadron. Temporary assignment.”
Silence.
“Callsign… Hunter.”
My heartbeat picked up.
No.
That’s not—
“Flight Lieutenant Kai Dawson.”
And in a single second—everything I had buried for ten years came rushing back.
I didn’t move. Didn’t turn. But my body reacted before my mind could catch up.
Of course.
Who else?
Kai Dawson. A name that never disappeared—just waited for the chance to disrupt my hard-won balance.
My old rival. My old problem.
My old mistake.
The fence came back to me without warning. Crooked wood that should have meant nothing. But I still remembered the sound of shattered ceramic, my father’s voice raised in anger, and Kai standing on the other side of the yard—never apologizing. Not once.
Everything changed after that.
We never really stopped competing. Grades. Trophies. Wins—everything became about who got there first, who stood higher, who was better.
And there was never an end to it.
I blinked, forcing myself back to the present.
The runway. The mission. Control.
This is just an assignment.
Nothing more.
I’m not a kid on Cherrywood Lane. I’m not a cadet at Cranwell, easily provoked by one irritating smirk.
I am Flight Lieutenant Amelia Thorne.
And I don’t lose control.
“Fine,” I said flatly. “As long as Dawson stays out of my way.”
A quiet chuckle came from behind me.
“I’m more curious who’s going to get in whose way.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to.
I continued toward the aircraft, my hand brushing against the body of the Atlas—cold, solid, real.
Unlike something in my chest that had started to move without permission.
The cockpit welcomed me like it always did. Orderly. Logical. In here, everything made sense. Everything could be controlled.
Always.
I took my seat, secured my harness, and powered up the systems one by one. The checklist ran through my mind automatically.
But somewhere between all of that—
His name was still there.
Kai Dawson.
Like a hairline crack in a system that had always been flawless.
No.
I tightened my jaw.
This means nothing.
Just a mission. Just a coincidence. Just another day that will pass.
Outside, the engines roared to life. Ground crew signaled.
Time to move.
Today is a routine mission.
It should be.
But as I stared straight ahead—
I knew.
Something was going to change.
And for the first time in a very long time…
I wasn’t sure I could control it.
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- Writer
