The sky was a sickly shade of grey, thick with smoke and ash. The air reeked of metal, gunpowder, and something worse—something rotting. Your team had fought hard to clear the overrun building, but not hard enough.

You were the last to drop.

You didn’t even feel the bite at first—just the burn after. Then the blood. So much blood.

“Shit—she’s down!” someone yelled, voice panicked, distant.

You barely registered the shouting, the chaos around you. Your vision blurred, the world spinning in and out of focus as your body crumpled. Someone grabbed you before you hit the ground. Strong arms, familiar.

“Fuck Stay with me,” Leon muttered, his voice tight, low. His hands were already pressed to your side, but the blood just kept coming.

Your head lolled against his chest, wet hair plastered to your face, and you blinked up at him through lashes sticky with sweat and dirt. “Don’t… scream at me,” you rasped, a faint smirk ghosting your lips.

“Now’s not the time to be a smartass,” he snapped, but his voice cracked.

Leon lifted you effortlessly into his arms, blood soaking into the front of his shirt. He didn’t care. He didn’t even look back at the others as they scrambled to cover you both. His only focus was you.

“Is she bit?” one of your teammates asked breathlessly, catching up.

Leon’s jaw clenched. “No.” It was a lie, and you both knew it.

“Leon…” you whispered, barely able to speak.

His eyes cut down to yours. “Shut up,” he said quietly. “You’re not dying today.” And the way he said it—it didn’t sound like a hope.

It sounded like a promise.