*Xander*

We’d hatched a practically impossible plan. It was a last-ditch effort, but there was a slim chance it could buy the allied forces a full night to rest and regroup, and to hold onto Breles. Oliver was sitting next to me in Gideon’s truck as we bounced over the rolling hills on the outskirts of Crimson Creek, a massive tank of fuel jostling in the bed of the truck behind us. One wrong move and we’d tip over, potentially blowing the truck, and ...