Ethan's expression hardened, his hands clenched into fists. "What the hell are you saying?"
His voice was sharp, laced with frustration. "We swore we'd stick together no matter what when we escaped that damn base. Did you think that only applied when things were easy? Letting you die was never an option, Mateo."
"There's no point in saving me," Mateo gritted his teeth as he fought against the pain tearing through his ruined leg. "Once they cut it off, what good will I be? I won't be able to fight. I won't be able to protect anyone. I'll be useless."
"Oh, for Hell's sake." Medeia rolled her eyes. "Who put that nonsense in your head?"
She crossed her arms and tilted her head at him. "Losing a leg doesn't mean losing your worth. Let's see … Oh! You could assist doctors. Or what about working in the church? Hell, if that's too boring for you, our farmers could use an extra pair of hands to check the quality of crops."