Chapter One: Holding

Riley had been in holding for a week now.

When they had told her she had completed Companion conditioning and was being transferred from training, she had expected kennels. Crates perhaps. Small tiled rooms with drains in the floor and metal bars across the front.

Instead the holding ward resembled a lounge attached to a private clinic. Warm lighting glowed from recessed panels overhead. Thick carpets softened footsteps. Couches and padded chairs sat clustered around low tables covered with untouched magazines and half-finished cups of tea. Music played softly from hidden speakers somewhere overhead. The air even smelled clean in a comforting way, carrying traces of detergent and brewed coffee instead of disinfectant.

There were other Animals there too.

Most looked around her age. Older teenagers. Young adults. A few sat reading. Some talked quietly with one another. Others rested against furniture with the loose, sleepy posture of housecats left in the sun.

No one wore clothing.

The first few days had still made Riley self-conscious. Not because of the girls anymore. That discomfort had faded weeks ago during conditioning. Eventually the constant visibility stopped feeling humiliating and simply became exhausting to resist. After long enough, nakedness stopped feeling like exposure and started feeling like the absence of effort.

The boys had taken longer.

Not because they stared. Most of them had already learned not to.

But bodies still reacted.

A boy stretched across the couch opposite her, one arm hanging over his eyes while he dozed lightly beneath the soft afternoon lighting. Another sat cross-legged on the floor beside the television while a girl braided sections of his hair absentmindedly. Nobody acted embarrassed when arousal happened. Nobody laughed. Nobody hid themselves. The staff ignored it completely unless behavior became disruptive.

It was treated the same way someone might acknowledge a sneeze or a yawn.

Natural.
Meaningless.
Animal.

Riley understood that intellectually.

Her body had simply not caught up yet.

So when one of the boys shifted in the chair beside her and she noticed the unmistakable tightening between his legs, heat rushed instantly into her cheeks before she could stop it.

The boy noticed her glance and looked embarrassed for perhaps half a second before giving a small helpless shrug.

“Sorry,” he murmured quietly.

Riley immediately felt worse.

“No, it’s okay,” she said too quickly. “You didn’t do anything.”

Which only made him look more awkward.

Across the room, one of the Matrons glanced up briefly from her clipboard.

“Apologizing for autonomic response is discouraged,” she said calmly without looking particularly invested in the conversation. “Holding should remain a low-stress environment.”

The boy relaxed slightly after that, shoulders easing back against the chair.

Riley stared down at her hands in silence.

That was another thing she still wasn’t fully used to.

Nobody here treated the body as personal anymore.

Not the staff.
Not the Animals.
Not even herself half the time.

Training had stripped away embarrassment piece by piece until reactions she once would have considered mortifying became routine background noise. Bathing in groups. Sleeping piled together during movie nights. Staff adjusting posture with their hands. Hands on shoulders. Fingers under chins. Casual touch everywhere.

Sometimes Riley caught herself forgetting what used to bother her.

That frightened her more than the nudity ever had.

A girl wandered past carrying two steaming mugs from the refreshment station near the wall. She paused beside Riley automatically.

“You still blushing at erections?”

Riley groaned softly, covering her face with both hands.

The girl laughed.

“It goes away eventually.” She offered one of the mugs. “Chamomile?”

Riley accepted it quietly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” The girl settled herself beside her on the couch without hesitation, warm thigh pressing against Riley’s own bare leg as naturally as if they had known each other for years. “You here for family placement too?”

Riley nodded once.

“Probably.”

A voice crackled suddenly over the tannoy, startling Riley badly enough that hot tea spilled across her bare lap.

She hissed softly, jerking upright as the announcement echoed through the holding lounge.

“Animal 2276-13, please report to Presentation Chamber Four.”

Riley’s watch beeped almost immediately afterward.

The designation number flashed across the tiny LED display on her wrist.

2276-13.

Hers.

Riley swallowed once before looking toward the girl who had brought her the tea earlier. The other Animal offered her a small sympathetic smile as Riley carefully set the mug down onto the coffee table.

“Good luck,” the girl said gently.

Riley nodded, then stood and quietly left the room.

The sound of her bare feet against the white tiled floor echoed softly through the corridor as Riley made her way toward Chamber Four.

Nothing else moved.

The halls here always felt strangely empty, the silence too complete to be natural. Even the air carried less sound than it should have, the ventilation humming quietly overhead while hidden lights cast a clean sterile glow across the polished walls.

Riley already knew what this meant.

Someone had taken an interest in her.

Not enough to purchase her outright yet, but enough to request a presentation. An introduction. A chance to see how she behaved outside the carefully controlled comfort of the holding lounge.

Her stomach tightened slightly at the thought.

Excitement.
Nervousness.
Hope.

The feelings blended together until she could no longer separate them properly.

She reached Chamber Four and lifted her wrist toward the sensor mounted beside the door.

The scanner flashed green.

A second later the door slid open with a soft hydraulic whisper.

Quiet.

Everything here was quiet.

It still unsettled her sometimes.

Back home, the Processing Centre had sounded alive. Doors clanged heavily when they opened. Locks snapped into place with hard mechanical certainty. Pipes rattled in the walls. Old ventilation systems groaned overhead day and night.

The building had been ancient.

But sturdy.

The System didn’t waste resources replacing things that still functioned.

Holding was different.

Modern.
Soft.
Beautiful, even.

Everything moved silently enough that it almost felt polite.

The doors glided instead of slammed. Lights brightened gradually instead of flicking on. Voices remained calm no matter the subject matter. The furniture was comfortable. The staff smiled often.

And somehow that made it feel less human than the Processing Centre ever had.

Both places existed for the same purpose.

Animals entered.
Animals left.

The only real difference was what happened afterward.

Processing prepared Animals for surrender.

Holding prepared them for ownership.

Riley stepped through the doorway as it widened fully for her, her posture straightening automatically the moment she entered the Presentation Chamber.

The room beyond resembled a private sitting area more than anything institutional. Soft chairs. Low lighting. A couch positioned near a long glass table with refreshments already waiting upon it.

Someone was already inside.

Waiting for her.

Riley felt her pulse quicken immediately.

Not fear.

Not entirely.

Something warmer than that.

Anticipation.

Because she wasn’t here to die.

She was here to belong to someone.

The person seated opposite her was not the prospective owner.

Riley realized it almost immediately.

The woman wore the pale grey uniform of a Holding handler, her posture relaxed and professional as she sat with one leg crossed neatly over the other. A tablet rested against her knee, untouched for now.

She hadn’t spoken since Riley entered.

Which meant Riley was behaving correctly.

The realization settled warmly in her chest despite the nervousness still twisting there.

Then came footsteps from beyond the inner doorway.

Two sets.

Measured.
Unhurried.

Riley kept her eyes lowered.

The footsteps crossed the room slowly over soft carpet before stopping near the sofa opposite her. Fabric shifted faintly as someone sat down.

The handler rose smoothly to her feet.

“Here she is,” the woman said pleasantly, her voice carrying the same calm professionalism every employee in Holding seemed to possess. “This is Riley. She arrived with us last week. Top of her conditioning group, I’m told.”

Heat rushed instantly into Riley’s cheeks.

The praise hit harder than she expected.

Conditioning had not been easy. Every Companion in Holding had already survived Processing, but only a handful had been selected for domestic placement training afterward. Hundreds entered evaluation. Most failed somewhere along the way.

Temperament issues.
Attachment resistance.
Poor socialization.
Aggression.
Depression.
Withdrawal.

Those Animals disappeared quietly back into Processing rotation.

Nobody asked where they went afterward.

You learned quickly not to.

Riley had worked desperately not to join them.

Every corrected posture.
Every obedience drill.
Every sleepless night spent forcing herself to adapt faster than the others around her.

And somehow she had succeeded.

“Riley,” the handler said gently, “can you look at me please?”

The voice was unfamiliar.

Soft.

Light and melodic in a way that immediately felt warmer than the handler’s polished professionalism.

Riley lifted her head obediently.

Her cheeks still burned faintly from the compliment as her eyes rose toward the couple seated across from her.

The first thing she noticed was the daughter.

About Amanda’s age perhaps. Dark hair pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder. Curious eyes already fixed entirely on Riley with open fascination rather than discomfort.

Beside her sat a woman perhaps in her late thirties, elegant without looking severe. One arm rested casually along the back of the sofa behind the girl while the other held a mug of coffee near her lap.

Neither of them looked frightened by Riley.

Neither looked disgusted.

If anything, they looked hopeful.

The realization made Riley’s pulse flutter strangely in her chest.

“My name’s Matilda, and this is my daughter Lola.”

The woman leaned forward slightly as she spoke, her attention settling fully onto Riley now.

“Can you tell us about yourself?”

Riley’s mind immediately went blank.

Training had prepared her for posture.
Commands.
Presentation.
Proper responses to touch and correction.

Not this.

Not conversation.

For one horrible second she could only stare.

What was she supposed to say about herself now?

That she used to swim competitively before the Lottery?
That she spent most lunches hiding in classrooms reading old science magazines while Amanda complained she was boring?
That she used to want to study engineering because she liked understanding how things worked?

Those thoughts crashed together uselessly in her head.

Human thoughts.

Human answers.

Riley swallowed hard.

“I…” she started softly before stopping again.

The handler remained silent nearby, allowing the pause to stretch naturally instead of rescuing her from it.

Riley forced herself to continue.

“I turned thirteen during conditioning,” she said at last, the sentence sounding painfully small once spoken aloud. “Um… I’m from Hanesfield. It’s in the next state over.”

Her fingers tightened slightly against her thighs.

“Just a small town,” she added quietly. “Lot of empty buildings.”

Lola tilted her head a little.

“Why’s it empty?”

Riley blinked, caught slightly off guard by the question.

“Factories closed before the Famine,” she answered automatically. “Then people left.”

Lola frowned slightly. “That sounds sad.”

Riley shrugged.

“It’s normal there.”

She hesitated for a second before adding:

“There’s still a bunch of empty streets. Old apartment buildings too.” Her gaze drifted slightly. “Some shops are still boarded up.”

“Was it scary?”

Riley thought about it.

The empty buildings.
Rusted signs.
Wind moving through places nobody used anymore.

Then she shook her head.

“No,” she said softly. “Just quiet.”

“How did you react to being Converted?” Matilda asked gently.

Riley looked back toward her.

For a moment the Presentation Chamber disappeared beneath memory.

The classroom.
Amanda staring at her.
The silence after her watch turned red.

The moment she had stopped being Human.

Riley bit lightly against her bottom lip before answering.

“I was at school,” she said quietly. “I raised my hand and told my teacher my watch had turned red.”

Her fingers pressed slightly harder against her thighs.

“She made me strip before sending me home.”

Lola shifted faintly on the sofa beside her mother, her expression tightening just a little at the image.

Before the silence could settle too heavily, the handler stepped smoothly back into the conversation.

“We’ve been assured Riley adapted very well overall,” she said quickly, the polished warmth returning immediately to her voice. “When we contacted her family, they mentioned she experienced some distress during her first day of transition, but afterward she adjusted quickly and responded extremely well to conditioning.”

Riley heard the carefulness in the wording.

Distress.
Transition.
Conditioning.

Holding staff always softened things that way when speaking to prospective owners.

Matilda’s eyes remained on Riley instead of the handler.

“Are you still frightened of being an Animal?” she asked softly.

The question caught Riley off guard.

Not because it felt cruel.

Because she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer anymore.

A few weeks ago the thought would have horrified her.

Now…

Riley lowered her gaze briefly toward her lap before shaking her head once.

“It’s simpler,” she admitted quietly.

The handler released an audible breath nearby before she could stop herself.

Relief.

That had apparently been the correct answer.

But Matilda still looked thoughtful rather than reassured.

“Simpler how?” she asked.

“I’m not sure how to answer that, if I’m being honest.”

The handler shifted immediately beside the sofa.

“Riley,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a soft edge of warning, “be good.”

Riley’s stomach tightened at once.

But before she could stumble through an apology, Matilda lifted one hand slightly.

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” she said quickly, glancing toward the handler before returning her attention to Riley. “I asked you a genuine question.”

The tension eased from the room by small degrees.

Matilda leaned back slightly into the sofa cushions, studying Riley with thoughtful curiosity rather than concern.

“If I had to guess,” she continued gently, “it feels simpler because you don’t have to worry about Human things anymore. Right?”

Riley blinked once.

“No more school,” Matilda said softly. “No more exams. No more trying to remember dates and deadlines.”

“No more worrying about what you’re going to become,” Lola added quietly from beside her mother.

Riley’s eyes flicked toward the girl briefly.

Then she nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” she admitted after a moment. “I suppose.”

The words settled strangely in her chest once spoken aloud.

Because they were true.

That was the frightening part.

The world had become smaller after Conversion.

But smaller also meant quieter.

No future hanging over her.
No expectations she might fail to meet.
No Lottery waiting somewhere ahead like a shadow stretching over every year of her life.

Just instructions.
Routine.
Comfort.
Praise when she behaved properly.

Simple things.

Riley lowered her gaze again before she could think too hard about that.

“Then would you like to come home with me?”

Matilda’s hand remained beneath Riley’s chin as she spoke, her touch gentle but unwavering.

Riley had grown used to being positioned during conditioning. Hands adjusting posture. Fingers guiding eye contact. Palms pressing shoulders back into proper presentation stance.

But this felt different.

Closer.

The warmth of Matilda’s hand seemed to linger beneath her skin in a way Riley hadn’t fully learned how to ignore yet. Not frightening. Not overwhelming.

Just… charged.

Like the space between them had narrowed somehow.

Riley looked up at her, pulse fluttering unevenly in her chest.

And underneath everything else — the nervousness, the uncertainty, the lingering embarrassment — one feeling rose above all the others.

The need to please her.

The urge arrived so naturally that Riley barely noticed it happening. The possibility of refusing never even formed properly in her mind. No hesitation. No internal argument.

Just warmth.

Belonging.

Hope.

“Yes,” Riley said softly.

Her voice sounded smaller than she intended.

“I’d like that.”

For the first time since entering the room, Matilda smiled fully.

Not the polite smile she’d worn earlier for the handler.

Something gentler.

More relieved.

Her thumb brushed lightly once along Riley’s jaw before finally letting go of her chin.

“Good,” she said quietly. “Because Lola already likes you very much.”

From the sofa, Lola immediately flushed bright red.

“Mom!”