Chapter 1360: Story 1360: A Thorn in Her Neck
Rain lashed the abandoned church like a punishnt from above. Cracked stained-glass windows wept colored light onto the blood-streaked pews. Inside, Caleb held Sofia’s trembling body as if the warmth of his arms could undo what had been done.
She had been bitten.
Not by a horde. Not by a stranger.
But by her sister—turned.
In a mont of rcy gone wrong.
Now, a jagged rose-thorn from a shattered bouquet lodged deep in Sofia’s neck, pushed there by instinct when she fell back during the struggle.
A symbol of their wedding day long gone, now returned as a cruel punctuation.
“Sofia,” Caleb whispered, brushing sweat-damp hair from her face.
“I’m still here,” she murmured, her voice dry, but lucid.
“You feel it yet?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Like fire in my spine.”
The infection had begun its slow, evil waltz through her veins.
He lit candles all around them.
Not for religion.
But for mory.
They’d t in this very church three years ago during a food drop. She’d patched his leg. He’d offered her half a chocolate bar. That was their beginning. No promises. No flowers. Just survival and affection in unspoken doses.
And now—this.
“I can cut it out,” he said.
Sofia smiled with cracked lips. “The thorn or the infection?”
He had no answer.
Instead, he poured rubbing alcohol over a scalpel and kissed her forehead.
She didn’t flinch when he started.
The thorn was wedged too deep.
Blood ran like ink over the collar of her once-white dress.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
He didn’t.
mories flooded him—
Their first stolen kiss behind the pharmacy shelves.
Dancing to a wind-up music box in a burning city.
Her sleeping with a knife under her pillow, and still trusting him beside her.
After twenty minutes, the thorn finally ca loose—slick and dark, a twisted relic.
But the wound still pulsed an unnatural red.
Too late. The virus was already rewriting her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For not being faster. Stronger.”
“You gave one more night,” she said.
They lay together in the silence.
And when her pulse slowed, he didn’t run.
Didn’t hide.
Didn’t chain her.
She turned with the sunrise.
Pale. Quiet. Eyes glowing with hunger.
But then… she paused.
Stared at him.
And instead of attacking—
She crawled to his side and curled up like before.
Head on his chest.
Hand on his heart.
He held her, unmoving.
Even as her breathing rasped.
Even as she shivered violently.
Even when she finally opened her mouth near his neck—
He still didn’t pull away.
“I’m not afraid,” he said.
She bit deep.
And cried while doing it.
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