She was infected. She was going to die unless someone saved her miraculously.
And there was only one person in our group who had the ability to save her—through a process that would destroy Christopher's heart and violate every boundary of friendship and trust that existed between us.
The silence in the arena was deafening after the chaos of battle. The melted ice formations created small rivers that trickled across the concrete floor, and the acrid smell of burned fuel and alien tissue hung in the air like a funeral shroud. But none of that mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except the woman sitting against the wall with death spreading through her veins like liquid poison.
