**(POV: Amelia)**
The man assigned to escort my flight today is the same man who once made me lose control.
And in my world, losing control gets people killed.
Kai Dawson was never just a mistake. He was the one thing I could never quite erase—no matter how hard I tried.
And this morning, that mistake came back.
The sky above Oxfordshire stretched out in a dull, pale gray as I stepped out of the briefing room. The door clicked shut behind me, the sound fading quickly into the cold morning air.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
A light wind swept across the runway, carrying the sharp scent of jet fuel and heated metal. It used to steady me. Still does, most days. It means routine. Control. Certainty.
Things that don't fail.
Unlike people.
I paused at the steps, drawing in a slow breath—holding it just long enough to feel something settle, before letting it go again.
I've done this a thousand times.
Calm. Focused. In control.
At least… I was supposed to be.
Because today, something felt off.
And I already knew why.
Ten years in this world had taught me one thing—emotions are a liability. And in my line of work, liabilities don't just cost control.
They cost lives.
So I learned to bury everything.
Lock it down. Shut it off. Erase it.
Including him.
I started walking again, my boots striking the concrete in a steady rhythm. Controlled—just like everything else in my life now. No room for mistakes. No room for anything unnecessary.
To my left, the ground crew moved with practiced precision. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Everyone knew exactly what to do.
I liked that.
Because here, there were no surprises.
Until I saw the aircraft waiting at the end of the runway.
The Atlas stood there—massive, solid, dependable. The kind of aircraft you trust with your life. The kind that doesn't betray you.
Nothing like a fighter jet.
Nothing like him.
My steps slowed.
It wasn't obvious. Barely noticeable. But I felt it—something shifting under my skin, like pressure building before a storm.
"I heard we're getting a fighter escort today."
I stopped.
Just for a second. But it was enough.
"Who?" I asked, keeping my voice flat.
"From the fighter squadron. Temporary assignment."
Silence stretched for half a breath.
Then—
"Callsign… Hunter."
My pulse kicked.
No.
That can't—
"Flight Lieutenant Kai Dawson."
And just like that, everything I had buried for ten years came rushing back.
I didn't turn. Didn't move.
But my body already knew.
Of course.
Who else would it be?
Kai Dawson.
A name that never really disappeared. It just waited. Quiet. Patient. For the right moment to come back and tear everything open again.
My old rival. My unfinished past. My worst mistake.
The memory hit without warning.
A crooked fence. Shattered ceramic. My father's voice—sharp, unforgiving.
And Kai… standing there.
Watching.
Not apologizing. Not even once.
Everything changed after that.
We never stopped competing.
Grades. Rankings. Missions.
Everything turned into a silent war—who gets there first, who stands higher, who refuses to fall.
And somehow… it never really ended.
I blinked hard, forcing the memory away.
Runway. Mission. Control.
This is just an assignment.
Nothing more.
I'm not that girl anymore.
I'm not standing on Cherrywood Lane. I'm not a cadet at Cranwell, reacting to every smirk he throws at me.
I am Flight Lieutenant Amelia Thorne.
And I don't lose control.
"Fine," I said, my tone flat. "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 ignored it.
I didn't need to respond.
Instead, I kept walking toward the aircraft, my fingers brushing briefly against the cold metal of the Atlas. Solid. Real. Reliable.
Unlike something in my chest that had started to move again—whether I wanted it to or not.
The cockpit welcomed me like it always did.
Orderly. Logical. Predictable.
In here, everything made sense.
Everything could be controlled.
Always.
I slid into my seat, secured my harness, and powered up the systems one by one. The checklist ran automatically in my head, each step precise, familiar.
But somewhere between the switches and the numbers—
His name was still there.
Kai Dawson.
Like a hairline crack in something that had always been flawless.
I clenched 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.
This is routine.
It should be.
But as I stared straight ahead, something in me tightened.
Because deep down—
I knew.
Something had already shifted.
Something I couldn't measure.
Something I couldn't control.
And for the first time in a very long time…
I wasn't sure I wanted to.