#for all that effie is still a great second in command

[fabledshadow]

Can I just say how much I love that Gloria is actually good at leading/managing people. Like, cooking is a skillset, so is being an effective people manager. She does both really well! I just love that it is not an informed trait, we get multiple examples of her being a great leader.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Part Two of my bookcomb for every time Katniss and/or Peeta smiled in relation to the other. This post is all of Catching Fire. They never once smiled at each other in Mockingjay, ever. And yes, I’m bitter.

-

My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if I can't stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg — and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months.

-

“Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine ... but I don't know what your favorite color is?” he says.

A smile creeps onto my lips. “Green. What's yours?”

“Orange,” he says.

“Orange? Like Effie's hair?” I say.

“A bit more muted,” he says. “More like ... sunset.”

-

“Want to see my talent? Cinna did a great job on it.”

Peeta laughs. “Later.” The train lurches forward, and I can see the land moving past us through the window. “Come on, we're almost to District Eleven. Let's go take a look at it.”

-

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift ... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all.

-

Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn't need to check my face to see if I'm serious. “Depends on why you're asking.”

“President Snow wasn't convinced by me. There's an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say.

“By 'we' do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks.

“My family. Yours, if they want to come. Haymitch, maybe,” I say.

“What about Gale?” he says.

“I don't know. He might have other plans,” I say.

Peeta shakes his head and gives me a rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I'll go.”

I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?”

“Yeah. But I don't think for a minute you will,” he says.

-

When we're outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.”

“I'll go with you,” he says.

“No. I've dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him.

“And avoiding a stroll by the Hob ... that's going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building. They haven't even bothered to leave Peacekeepers around it. They know no one would try to save it.

-

“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.

“No. When did you say that?” I demand.

“Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.

“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I'm sorry, but it's what I've been saying. You don't listen when people talk to you.”

“Bet people told you he didn't live there today and you didn't listen again,” says Haymitch.

“Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he's right.

Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile.

“Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they've made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them.

-

Finally Peeta says, “That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon.”

“Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too,” I say. “You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!”

I can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I've lost my mind—and maybe I have, a little.

“Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine. So much for sobriety. I guess I should be upset he's drinking again, but I'm preoccupied with another feeling.

-

I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say in my best seductive voice.

Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.”

“Really,” I say. “I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling.”

“Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?” he asks, glancing around at the other victors. “Just another part of the freak show?”

“Sure. Especially you,” I say.

“Oh. And why especially me?” he says with a smile.

“Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't,” I say with an air of superiority. “They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely.”

“Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.”

-

We end up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts. When she leaves, I ignore him, but I just know he's grinning. I toss aside his hand as the doors close behind Chaff and Seeder, leaving us alone, and he breaks out laughing.

“What?” I say, turning on him as we step out on our floor.

“It's you, Katniss. Can't you see?” he says.

“What's me?” I say.

[..]

“Yeah, but ... I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure,” he says, clearly trying to mollify me. “For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you.”

“No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!” I say.

“No.” Peeta shakes his head, but he's still suppressing a smile. I'm seriously rethinking the question of who should get out of these Games alive when the other elevator opens.

-

After training, Peeta and I hang out, waiting for Haymitch and Effie to show up for dinner. When we're called to eat, Haymitch pounces on me immediately. “So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality.”

“They saw her shoot,” says Peeta with a smile. “Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself.”

-

“You'd have thought we planned it,” says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile.

“Didn't you?” asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light.

“No,” I say, looking at Peeta with a new sense of appreciation. “Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in.”

-

Peeta walks me down to my room in silence, but before he can say good night, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. His hands slide up my back and his cheek leans against my hair. “I'm sorry if I made things worse,” I say.

“No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?” he says.

“I don't know. To show them that I'm more than just a piece in their Games?” I say.

He laughs a little, no doubt remembering the night before the Games last year. We were on the roof, neither of us able to sleep. Peeta had said something of the sort then, but I hadn't understood what he meant. Now I do.

-

No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta's lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he's practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever,” he says.

Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I'll never have, I just let the word slip out. “Okay.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Then you'll allow it?”

“I'll allow it,” I say.

-

I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. “Peeta?” I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck.

His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. “Careful,” he says weakly. “There's a force field up ahead.”

I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks.

[…]

I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta's chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask.

“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says.

“No, of course I don't mind.” I force a smile. Peeta showing up in the arena wearing a mockingjay is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it should give a boost to the rebels in the district. On the other, it's hard to imagine President Snow will overlook it, and that makes the job of keeping Peeta alive harder.

-

Finnick slowly begins to revive. His eyes open, focus on us, and register awareness that he's being helped. I rest his head on my lap and we let him soak about ten minutes with everything immersed from the neck down. Peeta and I exchange a smile as Finnick lifts his arms above the seawater.

-

Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off. Every time we try to stop, we look at Peeta's attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets us off again.

-

Beetee is still messing around the tree, doing I don't know what, taking measurements and such. At one point he snaps off a sliver of bark, joins us, and throws it against the force field. It bounces back and lands on the ground, glowing. In a few moments it returns to its original color. “Well, that explains a lot,” says Beetee. I look at Peeta and can't help biting my lip to keep from laughing since it explains absolutely nothing to anyone but Beetee.

-

Johanna keeps watch while Finnick, Peeta, and I clean and lay out the seafood. Peeta's just pried open an oyster when I hear him give a laugh. “Hey, look at this!” He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls,” he says earnestly to Finnick.

“No, it doesn't,” says Finnick dismissively. But I crack up, remembering that's how a clueless Effie Trinket presented us to the people of the Capitol last year, before anyone knew us. As coal pressured into pearls by our weighty existence. Beauty that arose out of pain.

-

[everlarkficexchange]

Time of Peace

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 48: Their people had a period of peace that stared to crumpled when bad choices and bad people started to destroy that. With a war in the horizon, there is only one choose to keep the peace. The chief’s daughter needs to marry the crown prince. Werewolf!Peeta Humans and wolves. [submitted by @animekpopxx​]

RATED: Mature for Violence and Adult Situations

Tags and Warnings: 24k words; Werewolf!AU; Fantasy!AU; Mild Violence; Some Disturbing Imagery; Arranged Marriage; Minor Character Death; Mr. Everlark is Alive-Canon Divergence which leads to slightly OOC!Katniss; Barely there Age Gap; Brief Beastiality Discussion/Dream sequence; Smut.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @animekpopxx for another great prompt… I think all the ones I took this time around are yours! @everlarkficexchange for hosting this event, and my incredible Beta @wingletblackbird, for your help and dedication in such short notice, you are awesome!!! Thank you to all the amazing people reading and supporting all the authors contributing to the exchange.

This is a work of fanfiction, we don’t perceive monetary gain from it. 

—————

I’m running through the woods as fast as my legs can carry me. The trees cast sinister, strange shadows all around me but I keep running, running, running while my heart beats as fast as hummingbird wings.

  Suddenly, a loud, threatening howl fills the woods; the trees seem to inch closer together, corralling me into a clearing I don’t recognize.

  There’s a rustling of leaves behind me, but there comes a time when one needs to stop running and face what’s chasing you, so I turn just in time to see the big, bulky wolf step into the clearing, blocking my way out.

  He’s taller and wider than normal wolves, but that’s to be expected. This kind only comes out to hunt during the full moon, and some say they can’t recognize friend from foe during fights.

  I retreat to the trees, looking for low branches to climb, but there’s nowhere to go. The wolf stalks me, breathing heavily, grunting lowly.

  I’m panting, looking around in case I’ve missed something that could help escape, but I see nothing useful. My father once told me one could reason with the wolves if they’re not in a voracious trance, but this one looks ravenous and it’s staring at me like I’m his next meal. I raise my hands trying to placate it, but before I can utter a word, the wolf jumps at me.

  A tunnel opens up through the dense vegetation, I run through it with the wolf hot on my heels. The beast is gaining on me, his howls deafening behind me. I trip on my feet, falling on my hands and knees. It’s no use, the wolf is on top of me.

  He tosses me around like a rag doll, until I land on my ass, hard. The wolf stalks towards me on his hind legs, like a man; his powerful thighs are covered in thick coarse hair all the way to his belly, but the strangest thing is that his genitalia is unmistakably human.

  Not just human, but completely erect and proud.

  I don’t know what comes over me, but suddenly my mouth is watering; my heart races erratically, and my breathing becomes ragged; my eyes can’t look away from his erection.

  He’s deliberately slowly approaching me, growling. His front paw lifts from his side, but it isn’t a regular lupine paw; this one has elongated fingers with opposable thumbs that end in very sharp claws. The tip of his claws barely touch my clothes, but everything falls off my body in ribbons.

  I can see the hunger in his eyes as he takes in my nakedness and my thighs part willingly for his greedy eyes. He lowers to the ground on four legs bringing his snout between my legs; his tongue peeks out of his mouth. I think he’s going to lick me right there so I shut my eyes tightly and then…

  “Katniss!”

  How odd. The wolf knows my name, but his voice is so girly.

  The world shakes under me.

  “Katniss! Katniss wake up!”

  I sit up with a loud gasp, throwing punches in the air and groaning in aggravation.

  “Katniss! Thank Father Sun you’re awake!” Says my little sister in a relieved tone.

  “Prim, what… what’s going on?” I ask groggily, trying to shake off the last tendrils of sleep out of my head.

  “You were having a nightmare.” Prim tells me with wide eyes I can barely make out in the dimness of our hut.

  I know I was having a vivid dream that left me exhausted, anxious, and disappointed, the problem is I can’t remember the dream at all.

  “Are you sure? I don’t remember anything I was dreaming of.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it was a nightmare, since you were moaning, whining and kicking in your sleep. What else could have been?”

  “Yeah…” I concede. “You must be right, Little Duck. Thank you for waking me up.” I tell her gratefully, and then yawn mightily. “We should go back to bed—“

  “Um… actually, we can’t.” Says Prim scowling. “I think you’ve overslept as it is.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Purification Day, Katniss. Mother left about fifteen minutes ago, and told me to wake you up.”

  I groan loudly and drop back in bed. “Do I have to go?”

  “Yes! And if you don’t get up soon, Father will come home and realize you never went to the Washings.”

  I bemoan my luck and kick my wool blanket aside. I stand from my sleep roll and pull on my moccasin boots while trying to hop out the door on one foot.

  “Aren’t you going to change clothes?” My sister gives me horrified glance.

  I take a roll from the kitchen table and stuff it in my mouth. “M-no. M-haf-ta mbathe there m-nyway.” I kick the door open, rebraiding my hair.

  “Katniss,” Prim calls.

  I look at her and spot the bag swinging from her hand. My game bag, filled with a change of clothes, towels, and soaps and oils. All things my mother made me pack last night for the Washing Ceremonies today.

  “Thank you, Little Duck. You’re the best sister ever.” I tell her planting a kiss on her cheek.

  She chuckles, but then she reminds me I’m late, and my hair is still a mess.

  It’s really dark outside. Even darker than my regular hunting mornings. I sigh, and take in a mouthful of chilly air. It’s the first day of May, and spring is still cool at this time of the morning.

  I’m the only girl walking through the village, which makes my shoulders sag. If I’m the only one, then there’s no way I can pretend I was there all along, and my mother must be confusing me with some other tardy girl. I take off running, which is probably unladylike and frowned upon, especially today, but I have no other choice.

  By the time I come to the top of the hill before the river, I see my father and his second in command standing halfway between me and my mother, who’s impatiently waiting for me at the foot of the hill.

  “You’re late, Sweetheart.” Says Haymitch, my father’s oldest friend and most trusted counselor.

  “You’re sober, Haymitch.” I remark glaring at him.

  “Most be ‘hate-my-life’ day then.” He grunts.

  My mouth is forming a comeback, but my father speaks, “Hurry to your mother, Katkin. Just because you’re my daughter, doesn’t mean you’re not expected to be punctual.”

  “Yes, father.” I say contritely.

  I’m only two steps away when he calls me. “Katniss?”

  I turn to him.

  He’s smirking. “Don’t let the women wash away the calluses on your shooting fingers. I’ve invested way too much time creating those, to have them erased in one washing.”

  I grin at him, and then skip the rest of the way to meet my mother.

  “Finally!” She mutters when I stand in front of her. She sighs. “I was about to go fetch you myself.”

  My aunt, Effie, runs from the edge of the river where the rest of the women that wanted to come to the ceremony are reunited. She takes a sweeping look at me from head to toe, and sniffs. “Young lady… couldn’t you have worn the deerskin dress I left out for you?” She laments. “Or any dress? At least this once?”

  “Never mind that. Come, Katniss. We are late as it is.” Replies my mother, taking a hold of my wrist and dragging me the rest of the way to the river.

  “But… it’s her Purification Day!” Cries Effie. “Why can’t she look like a sweet girl for her Washing Ceremonies? I told her today was big, big, big day for her, and she still didn’t listen to me.”  

  Normally mother doesn’t care what I wear, but right now she’s looking a bit annoyed. I’m unsure whether her mood is directed at her half sister or me. Either way, I try to shrink into the background as much as possible not to draw her attention to my day old clothes.

  I’m surprised to see so many women waiting for me. I believe half the elder female of the tribe are reunited in this river bank, which makes me itchy and twitchy just looking at them.

  “Why are there so many women here?” I ask my mother in a harsh whisper.

  “Because you’re the Chief’s daughter,” She replays back.

  “And, the most likely candidate to toast with that handsome Gale Hawthorne.” Says ain’t Effie dreamily.

  “What?!” I stop dead in my tracks, causing my mother to stumble, since she’s still gripping my wrist in her hand. “I’m not marrying Gale! I’m not marrying anyone!”

  “Hush!” My mother hisses, her cool blue eyes scanning the crowd, making sure nobody heard me. “Your father hasn’t come to a decision yet, but you have to agree that marrying Gale will put you in a very prominent place amongst your people.” Mother says bitterly. And with reason.

  Mother is not actually a Seam. In fact, she’s not merely human at all.

  Of course she’s my blood and all, but she’s part of a caste— better yet, a race— of people that can turn into wolves. People call them ‘Children of Mother Moon’ or simply, The Pack.

  My mother is not a shifter herself, and that’s why she was allowed to come live within the Seam’s tribe; but she still has certain abilities, such as self healing, endurance and acute hearing. The rest of her kind—the Pack— physically turn into wolves every full moon and have pretty much the same gifts as my mother, plus sense of smell and night vision, which makes them amazing trackers and hunters, just like their counterparts in the wild.

  In their human form, they share similar traits such as blonde or auburn hair, light skin, blue or green eyes. They can be fastidiously well spoken and have crazy strict traditions, even more taxing than Purification Day.

  When my father married my mother, his Chiefdom title was almost stripped off him; if it hadn’t been for Haymitch’s quick thinking and the promise of appeasing the unrest between our tribe and the Pack, my father would’ve lost his position and quite possibly his good name. Our people worked out an agreement with the Pack way back then, and we’ve lived peacefully, sharing the land and its fruits ever since.

  Now, it isn’t completely unheard of werewolves and Seams mixing and having affairs. Why my aunt Effie is product of one sordid union between my mother’s wolf father, and a pretty tribes woman. Effie is considered the pinnacle of sophistication in our village and is admired by many… which is strange, since she’s not the brightest person I know.

  “Well, not to worry my dear. I am sure the Chief will come to a wise decision, as always.” Effie smiles indulgently at us, and it’s hard to keep annoyed with her when her caring nature shows through.

  “Welcome, Katniss, daughter of Chief Everdeen!” I’m startled. I haven’t finish dropping my game bag on the ground when the ceremony starts. “Come to waters, to start your journey into womanhood!” Grandma Sae, the oldest person in the tribe greets me with open arms; her voice still clear despite her age, breaks the silence of the woods.

  The woman is not actually my grandmother, but everyone in the village calls her Grandma anyway. She looks almost comical, wearing her ceremonial robes, like she’s shrunk since the last time she wore them, which is a real possibility.

  “Come forth child, and let the mothers and grandmothers of your tribe guide you.” Sae continues.

  My mother and aunt Effie nudge me forward, while they take their place amongst the other women.

  “Disrobe, child. Here we leave the clothes of a little girl, and symbolically wash away your inexperience.”

  All the women of the tribe converge on me and quite unceremoniously pluck me out of my shirt, trousers and shoes, until I’m left in the middle of the ring without a stitch of clothing on. I cover myself anyway I can, because other than my sister, Primrose, nobody has seen me in less than sleeping clothes. I’m very uncomfortable with this nudity, but this is all part of the tradition, and since my whole family will be shamed if I don’t follow our customs, I simply take a deep breath, close my eyes, and give myself to the rituals of Purification Day.

  Aunt Effie would say, in her diplomatic cadence, that Purification Day is a rite of passage, from child to woman.

  A girl is expected to enter the Purification rites one week before her 17th birthday, when she becomes of age, and the new woman can take a trade, or enter into a marriage contract soon after.

  Purification Day has been practiced for generations upon generations, and consists of three parts called: Washing Ceremonies. The first washing is at dawn, the next one at noon, and the last one at evening.

  The dawn ceremony, or First Washing, takes place at the river, where we normally bathe and do laundry. A sixteen year old girl has to symbolically wash away her childhood, and let the river take away all childish behavior in its currents under the watchful eye of the all the mothers, grandmothers and aunts in the family… or in my case, the whole village. Once the bath is over, the elder women will teach the young ones the proper way to wash clothes in the river, by beating the garments with rocks and sticks.

  That part I’ve always considered absurd and redundant, since most girls are taught to do laundry as soon as ten years old, so they can help with chores around their homes.

  Then, at midday, after the hunters and gatherers have return from their morning expeditions, the young women have to collect the food her family is going to prepare for supper, and bring it to the well in the middle of town to be cleaned. That’s the Second or Noon Washing. New women are expected to cook the meal on their own with limited help from their mother or grandmother. In this ceremony, one has to wash hands all the way to the elbows, face down to the neck, and some families include feet and ankles… not mine, which is fine by me.

  The game from the hunters and the crops and greens from the gatherers have to be washed and butchered right after a young lady does her ceremony. Not all the girls manage to complete the butchering and cooking, so their mother’s usually have to step in the first time around. A lot is forgiven on the noon ceremony, because nobody likes to suffer food poisoning.

  The last washing, is the one I’m looking forward to the most: hot water springs! Every important woman in the life of the girl— sister, friends, cousins, mother, aunts, teachers, etc.— can participate of this washing. The young woman is escorted to the springs by the most important females in her inner circle, and they help by fixing her evening bath throwing aromatic flowers, oils, and salts into a small water pool by the springs.

  The young woman can receive a scalp massage, her feet can be treated with a pommes stones, and her fingernails trimmed and filed by her closest friends and relatives. Of course, I’m choosing to ignore the main lesson of this washing, which is the most useless of all in my opinion: to learn proper grooming for the wedding night.

  I made my father promise me he’d think about letting me take a trade, instead of setting me up in a marriage contract. My dream job is to become a permanent member of the hunting party, but that marriage to Gale Hawthorne nonsense has cropped up before, and father won’t make a definite decision on the matter.

  Gale Hawthorne is my third cousin, and next in line for the Chiefdom, after my father passes away, or abdicates his position. Marrying Gale would cement both our claim to leadership of the Seams.

  I redress quickly after my bath, there’s no reason to wait for the women to mob me again with their ‘helpful’ hands as if I was a helpless toddler. And that’s when things go wrong.

  I grab the basket of laundry my mother brought with her this morning, and start selecting the garment I want to wash first; the ladies around me do the same and we all start the tedious task together. The shirt I was supposed to wash hasn’t even been submerged in the water yet when my mother stands from her place next me and cranes her neck downriver.

  I’ve learned to be alert when my mother reacts to sounds only she can hear, so I jump up, “What is it?” I ask breathlessly.

  The rest of the women look up at her as well.

  My mother turns to us and commands urgently, “Everybody, take your things and run for home! Wolves are on the way.”

  The full moon isn’t for another week or so, but it’s sort of like an unspoken rule that women clear the river if wolves come to bathe or wash.  

  I’m already slapping stuff into our basket before mother’s done talking. Most women are ready to go by the time I look up, but others are taking their sweet time. Soon the sound of voices and laughter grows gradually louder. The rest of the women pick up their stuff fast and hurry up the hill towards home. My mother and Effie take the rear of the group while Hazelle Hawthorne, another influential lady of the tribe, takes the front.

  I’m passing my mother, who’s helping a woman heavily pregnant carry her basket when she speaks, “Katniss, Grandma Sae is not in the group!” my mother practically pushes the woman she’s helping up the hill.

  I bolt back to the river’s edge, and find Sae struggling to pick up a bag with her very wet clothes.

  “I’ll take this, Grandma. You go join the others!”

  “No child, this is my burden, and I’m not going to run for no rowdy boys, even if they’re wolves!”

  The river is neutral ground. Both our clans are expected to respect each other’s right to the water, so there haven’t been any disputes over the river since before I was born; there’s no reason for anyone to believe there would ever be one, but whatever my mother heard, was reason enough to disrupt my first washing ceremony, so I really don’t want to stay around to figure out what’s going on without my bow.

  “It’s alright, grandmother, helping you is an honor and part of being an adult, so stop arguing with me, and give me the bag.” I wink at her for good measure. Sae is a sassy lady who likes to jest in difficult situations.

  The woman cackles, and dumps her load on my shoulders rather happily, and you’d never know she was so old just watching her stroll up that hill even faster than the few eighteen and nineteen year old women in the group.

  Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough, and soon I can hear clearly a group of young voices somewhere on the other side of the river.

  The obnoxious laughter grows louder as a group of around ten guys break out of the woods on the opposite bank. The newcomers don’t seem to notice me, but still I try to quicken my step. Instead, I trip on a loose pebble and Sae’s heavy bag tips back throwing off my balance.

  I tumble down the hill like an avalanche of wet rags and sore girl. All I can do is clench my eyes shut and brace for impact at the foot of the hill, while pleading with all my ancestors, I don’t get too bruised up.

  The next thing I know, I’m miraculously wrapped into warm, comforting padding, shielded from the worst of the fall.

  I’m momentarily confused, because I can’t fathom what could have saved me from colliding with hard, possibly jagged stones at the bottom of the hill.

  And then, I hear the last voice I expected to aid me in this embarrassing situation. “Are you alright, mistress?”

  The voice is deep, velvety, and warm. I would recognize it anywhere, despite never having spoken to its owner directly. I’ve become familiar with his specific frequency and cadence through years of diplomatic and protocolar functions between our peoples.

  I’m suddenly very aware of my body’s position, sprawled over his solidly built body in a very undignified way, not very diplomatic or protocolarly acceptable. My eyes finally fly open and I’m confronted with clear blue eyes that look at me with concern.

  I try scrambling to my feet, and Peeta, Prince of the Wolves, tries to help me up, which is no good at all, because his touch is making my head spin, bringing inexplicable memories of my dream this morning, making my stomach burn and rendering clumsy my every move.

  It takes great effort to stand. We keep falling and sliding on the ground. There’s mud everywhere and the contents of Sae’s bag are littered all over the damp dirt.

  Another hand materializes above us, and they try to pull us up just when I hear the pounding of many feet descending the hill, and the sound of a war horn—that hasn’t been blown in years— fills the whole valley. A war cry follows the horn, and the prince’s heart starts beating wildly in his chest, right under my palm.

  “Get off her, mutt!”

  I curse under my breath because I recognize that voice too, and nothing good is going to come out of Gale Hawthorne’s hotheadedness meddling in this whacky situation.

  I try to push off the prince’s chest, again, and I swear he wraps his arm protectively around my waist tighter, as if reluctant to let go of me.

  Nonetheless, the prince rocks us up to our feet, just when a heavy hand falls on my shoulder and yanks me back, out of the prince’s arms. I’m surprised to find my father in looking me over for a quick second and immediately shifting his hard gaze to the men from the other side of the river gathered around me.

  “Your trespassing, wolf!” Says my father, although the prince has his hands up in surrender and is slowly stepping back into the water.

  That’s when I notice he’s soaking wet, his riot of blonde curls lay flat, plastered to his skull and face. His clothes are completely covered in mud, and he’s dripping water everywhere. A taller man— the most handsome man I ever set eyes on— I recognize as Beta Odair, is keeping close to Prince Peeta. I guess it was his helping hand that tried to pull us up before my father’s arrival. Odair’s legendary sea green eyes quietly study my father and his warriors. He too is drenched head to toe, but there isn’t a spect of mud on him I can see.

  “It wasn’t my intention to trespass into your territory, mighty Chief Everdeen—“ starts the prince, but Gale interrupts.

  “Then what was your intention, dog breath? To attack the Chief’s daughter?”

  Gale lunges forward as he’s saying the words; everything happens so fast. Gale is a foot away from the Prince with his spear pointed at his heart; I’m running after Gale, screaming at the top of my lungs for him to stop, and suddenly, Beta Odair is there, standing like a solid wall between Gale and Peeta. Odair moves with such speed, that I’m surprised Gale wasn’t thrown on his ass with the force.

  “Enough!” My father calls out. “Prince of the Wolves, as Chief of The Seam, I demand an explanation. You were found on my territory, in a compromising position with my daughter.”

  “Father, it’s not what you think—” I speak up, but I get ignored when Gale can’t keep his mouth shut.

  “You can’t believe a word this mutt says!”

  “I don’t know who you take me for, son of the Sun, but I would never harm a lady. I’m going to overlook your derogatory words this time, because the situation is unusual and emotions are running high. But make no mistake, I am Prince Peeta, only heir of Alpha Mellark, and I won’t tolerate your disrespect again.”

  “Gale!” Father calls him in a tone that leaves no room for arguments. “Mind yourself!”

  Still, Gale doesn’t back down, holding a staring competition with Odair, like he could inflict any damage on the man. He finally returns to his position on the line of warriors armed with spears and bows. I can’t help rolling my eyes.

  After a few tense moments, Prince Peeta speaks. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. We didn’t mean to disrupt the women’s chores earlier. We just ended a long night of hunting, and wanted to clean up before returning home. We almost turned back, but the women moved on. We figured it’d be a waste and a dishonor to your brave women to scare them away for naught.

  “When we were at the river bank, Mistress Everdeen had an unfortunate mishap. I was trying to help, but it seems I made things worse for everyone. And for that, receive my most sincere apologies. I would never do anything to harm your people, Chief Everdeen, least of all your own flesh and blood.”

  “Katniss, is this true?” Asks my father in a hard tone I’m not used to hear.

  I look up at him, and nod vehemently. “It is father. The prince saw me fall. I was heading to the washing stones, I could’ve hurt myself severely. He saved me. Nothing else. It’s the truth.”

  Father stares at me with piercing gray eyes that scrutinized me like I could be hiding anything from him, and once he’s satisfied I’m being truthful, he looks at prince Peeta.

  “Very well. Let this be a one time incident, and never repeat it. Everyone, peace is restored between our factions.” Without further discussion, Father commands us all to march back home, and the wolves return to whatever they wanted to do originally.

  ————-

  Purification Day goes by without a hitch. To my people’s everlasting credit, no one— other than Gale— mentions the embarrassing encounter with the wolves, because nobody wants to stir up that pot of worms.

  The Wolves and the Seams have a long history of wars, death, and rivalry. Early on it was agreed that each race would keep to one side of the river, and never cross the other’s territory without invitation. The game of the region is supposed to be managed responsibly by both our clans, and one can’t steal kills from the other, but through history, those rules have been tested and broken numerous times, causing tension and animosity every so often.

  When my father became Chief, he vowed to stop the bloodshed, and an era of peace was reached when the Alpha allowed my father to marry my mother. Our borders have been respected and we have even worked with the wolves during hunting excursions, sharing prey and crops. But lately, there’s an unrest between the Tribe and the Pack.

  Sometimes, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before someone like Gale does something to start a row, and all our years of hard earned peace would be lost in the blink of an eye.

  I just hope I’m wrong.

  ——————-

  The last rite of Purification Day comes as a welcome reprieve.

  Primrose, Aunt Effie and Mother sit on the edge of the small, semicircle pool I’m marinating in with their feet in the the warm water.

  My only friend, Rue, who’s actually Prim’s age, was allowed to tag along for the ceremony, but she’s kept busy trying different plants and fruits for their aromas, tossing in the pool all kinds of crazy combinations. She claims that lavender, peony and rose—which incidentally is all my mother and Effie brought with them— are too predictable and expected and nothing like me. So she’s set out to find some other fragrance that’s more appropriate for me… whatever that means.

  “Eucalyptus!” Rue calls out loudly, tossing a bag of dry eucalyptus leaves she brought from home.

  I choke immediately, coughing my lungs out. When I calm down enough, I fish the offending pouch out of my hot bath, and lob it as far away from me as I can.

  “Lemon! Sage! Basil!” Rue calls out sprinkling leaves and slices of fruit into the water.

  “Rue!” I growl, but my mother, Prim and surprisingly even Effie are laughing merrily at Rue’s antics, so I splash at my mischievous friend, chuckling as well.

  A shadow looms above me and before my eyes can make the trek up the person blocking the glow of my lamp, a flat, cold voice interrupts our fun.

  “My-my. Did we come to the wrong gathering?” Every set of eyes follow the voice, as three figures come into focus… two of them seem to hesitate. “I thought we are attending a Washing Ceremony, not a cookout. Lemon, sage, and basil, sound like a recipe for fish stew, won’t you agree Hazelle, dear?”

  Hazelle Hawthorne, Gale’s mother, glares at the woman speaking, but before she can say anything, my mother stands up and greets the newcomers coldly.

  “Alma.” Mother addresses the speaker with barely restrained annoyance, “What a surprise. I wasn’t aware you were joining us. Of course Hazelle and little Posy are more than welcome to come with us as are Katniss’ beloved cousins.”

  Actually, Alma Coin is my father’s closest living relative; they’re second cousins once removed. Alma is Gale’s aunt, and Hazelle’s sister-in-law.

  Unlike my father, who has me and Prim, Alma has no living direct family, so she’s been hovering over Gale since he was named my father’s closest male relative, and next in line for chiefdom.

  The problem is Alma despises everything my father does; marrying my mother was just the last nail on the coffin, because of her ancestry. As for me, Alma has been trying to recruit me into her hate mongering ways since I can remember.  Although Gale’s completely loyal to my father, his aunt, Alma, has great influence on him.

  That said, her intrusion in my washing ceremony is unwelcome and downright rude.

  “Well, we thought that since our Gale will soon be named Katniss’ fiancé, when the announcement of his request of her hand in marriage—“

  “What?!” I screech and splash in the spring. “Gale is what?”

  Alma glares at me as if I was some insignificant inconvenience, and continues as if nothing has happened, “It would be appropriate to participate in this last ritual, as future direct family of the bride to be.”

  One glance at Prim and Aunt Effie tells me they are as flabbergasted as I am. My mother looks livid on the other hand, which leads me to believe she’s already aware of this tidbit of information.

  Sure, everyone expects Gale to pursue me as his bride to strengthen his claim to the chiefdom, but he making his proposal official is news to me.

  “May I remind you that just because a proposal has been made, doesn’t necessarily mean a decision has been reached?” Says my mother with venom in her voice. “We have yet to speak to Katniss of this, and you know better than anyone that coming to an accord before the prospective bride’s seventeenth birthday is unheard of. Even for a chief’s daughter.”

  “Oh, are we following tradition now? How quaint.” Says Alma without missing a beat and proceeds to sit on an old fallen log nearby.

  Hazelle, looking embarrassed and chagrined starts a soft apology. I think she’d much rather leave, but my Aunt Effie is quick to come forth and embrace her and her young daughter, Posy.

  “Hazelle, my dear friend! Please, come, come. Sit, sit. How wonderful to have you and sweet, little Posy with us.”

  Prim and Rue make room for the tween girl between them and promptly have her barefoot and dipping her toes in the hot water with the rest of my family. My mother is warmer towards Hazelle and Posy as well; we all know they wouldn’t have come if not for nosy Alma, and honestly, we do like the Hawthorne women… with the obvious exception of course.

  I notice Hazelle has brought a bag with her.

  “What did you bring, Hazelle?” I ask from my perch, trying to ignore Alma’s attempts at controlling the conversation.

  “Oh. Just some soaps and flowers I use in the laundry. Made them myself, you know.”

  Hazelle is the head laundress in the tribe, although everyone is expected to help with their family’s chores, many people opt for trading with women like Hazelle, who take care of laundry for exchange of other goods.

  “It isn’t much, but it’s gentle enough for baths.” Says Hazelle with a soft smile.

  “Let us have it then. If we let Rue continue with her ideas, poor Katniss will end up smelling like a roast.” Quips Effie in a rare bout of humor.

  Hazelle’s wares are incredible, and soon I’m left with soft, glowing skin that smell of orchids and strawberries. It’s a strange combination, but it works perfectly.

  We have so much fun, we forget Alma is there until she clears her throat, clearly annoyed everyone is ignoring her.

  “Katniss, dear, I believe it’s time to return to our huts. Please be done with your cleansing, so we can give you the final blessings.”

  “Excuse me?” Says my mother in a dangerous tone. “As the matriarch in this family, the authority to call this ceremony to a close rests solely on me. If you are too fatigued to stay with the rest of us until I decide it’s time, then by all means, say your blessings now, we won’t hold it against you if you went home early. We will see that Hazelle and Posy make it home safely, once we’re done here.”

  Alma’s lips form a thin line. Mother does have the last word in this matter, not only as my mother, but also as the Chief’s wife. Alma is twice outranked and truly she came out here uninvited. She sits there looking at us like she’s about to rip my mother’s head clean off her neck, for the rest of the night, which is only thirty more minutes including a ceremonial drying, the applying of some tonics and perfume and final blessings from the attendees.

  On our walk back home— after returning the Hawthorne’s and Rue to their huts— Prim yawns and falls into step with me. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and although she’s only half an inch shorter than me now, she rest her head on my shoulder and whispers lowly, so mother and Effie won’t hear.

  “I think mother was about to call it a night when Alma decided to open her antagonistic, huge mouth. What do you think?” Prim sighs.

  It’s true. Things were starting to naturally dwindle down around the time Alma tried to impose herself on us again, and as petty as mother’s response was, staying those extra minutes were just a matter of principle at that point.

  “Well, hopefully that’ll teach Alma to mind her manners!” Says Effie with a haughty shake of her head, and after a moment of shock that we were overheard passes by, we all giggle together.

  As a day I’ve been dreading for the past year, Purification Day wasn’t bad at all.

  ———-

  The talk about Gale’s proposal comes in the morning. Father and mother shoo Prim away after breakfast and then it’s only us three at home.

  Prim gives me a tight smile and wishes me luck before ducking out the bamboo and leather door of our hut. She’s not fully gone when father starts telling me about Gale’s visit after the incident with the prince.

  I never pegged Gale for the romantic type, but according to my parents, he delivered this ardent speech about how him and I belonged together and how perfect a pair we’d make, and with him as Chief and me hanging on his arm, the village would flourish into a golden age of prosperity— as if what my father has done for the last twenty years accounts for nothing!

  Of course, Alma was with Gale the whole time instead of his own mother— probably feeding him the lines of his speech— as the leader of his family, although that role belongs to Gale as the eldest male in the Hawthorne’s home.

  I groan, “You’re not really considering this, are you?” I ask my parents staring at them in turn.

  “We have to consider all the options, my wild flower.” Says my father.

  “Not all of them” Whispers my mother under her breath while pouring tea into a pewter mug for my father.

  “Who?” I ask watching my father’s lip twitch in something aching to warning.

  “Nobody we can consider, dear. Just a misguided little boy.” Says mother taking her sit next to father.

  I purse my lips for a moment. “Well, I much rather wait for a little boy to be of age and marry him, than sharing a roof with Alma; that’s for sure.” I say brattily.

  My mother pulls a face, and dives into a strained spiel, “Will that really be your decision, Katniss? You can’t just dive blindly into that kind of thing—“

  Father starts laughing uproariously cutting off mother’s ranting. She gives a look that would have any other man shaking in their boots, but father just hugs her and kisses her lips mid laughter, until she has enough and pushes him away. I’m smiling too, watching my parents’ little spat.

  “I fail to see the humor in this! We are discussing your daughter’s future!” She grounds through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, beloved!” Father sighs. “I think you’ve mistaken Katniss’ sarcasm for truth.”

  Mother looks cross but she blinks away her confusion for understanding, and that gives way to a mortified moodiness I’ve only ever seen in Effie before now.

  “What does Katniss want then?” Mother demands more annoyed than affronted.

  “I think I just rather be a hunter.” I say giving father my biggest pleading eyes, hoping he’d just let me stay single… at least until someone else catches my eye.

  “We’ll see, Katkin, we will see.”

  ——————-

The dream starts anew with me running through the woods being chased by wolves.

  This time I reach the clearing right as a painful stitch in my side makes me trip over and fall.

  The humanoid wolf is once more walking towards me upright, on his hind legs. His hairy fingers grow sharp claws he uses to shred my clothes to smithereens, and the cups my face into both his paws, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. His nose is touching mine, but it’s strangely dry and cold, and then I open my own eyes and look past his menacing muzzle, over his snout, into his clear blue eyes.

  My legs fall open at each side of me, and the wolf scoots closer between them. I make the mistake of looking down, and catch sight of his engorge erection, so man-like— although I’ve never seen an actual man naked in my life— and I’m about to cry out a small protest, when a loud commotion outside the hut wakes me up with a start.

  Prim is already up and wrapping a robe around herself. “Katniss, here!” She tosses me the robe draped over the foot of my bedroll as I’m kicking off my covers.

  We both rush out of the heavy curtain separating our sleeping areas with the rest of our home. Mother is standing at the door looking anxiously outside. Father is nowhere to be found, so we join Mother.

  “What’s going on?” I ask digging my fingers into my mother’s elbow.

  She looks at me as if she’s just waking up from a bad dream herself. “I’m not sure.” She mutters. “Your father is out there, trying to calm people down and learn what’s happened. He ordered me to stay home and keep both of you safe.” She says solemnly.

  Well, he didn’t tell me to stay put, so as fast as I can, I zoom past my mother into the open door and force my bare feet to ignore the ground and pebbles I step on while pumping my legs to the limit. My mother stays at the door calling me to come back, but I don’t dare look at her. I keep going and lose them around the corner of one shack, just to come across my father and a crowd of people in their sleep clothes, surrounding Gale and his friends, Thom and Bristel.

  “… did you want to accomplish Gale?!” My father’s voice drips with displeasure and anger. “We’ll be two horses down and there’s no telling if there will be damage to our crops.”

  “Sir, the wolves invaded our borders and endangered one of our own. I say our retaliation was justified—“

  “Retaliation? Justified? All I heard from your story is how a trio of hotheaded children rushed the Pack’s camp and torched their wheat fields, then got chased off their borders, and instead of fleeing somewhere away from the village, you cut through our own fields and brought an unnecessary scuffle home to top it all off. Did I miss anything?” My father is so angry, a can see a vein tensing in his neck.

  “They attacked Katniss first!” Yells Gale.

  “Gale, the Prince didn’t attack Katniss. She’d fallen and could’ve broken her neck on the river rocks if they hadn’t come to her aid.”

  “They trespassed! And they could’ve soiled my bride if we hadn’t stopped them—“

  “I’m not your bride!” I screech over the hubbub.

  The crowd goes silent and all eyes stare at me.

  “I’m not your bride.” I repeat sullenly, under my breath.

  “Sure you’ll be, Catnip. It’s already been discussed.” Gale says with a warning in his soft tone.

  “Boy, just because you came telling me why I should let you marry my daughter, does not mean there was a discussion, much less an agreement. And after your seriously misguided hijinks tonight, I doubt you’re ready for a wife at all, let alone be Chief of the Seams, but this isn’t the place or the time to have this conversation.”

  “I did what needed to be done, since nobody did anything to show the wolves they can’t just do as they pleased, disrespecting our tribe.”

  “Son, you could’ve caused great damage tonight by being brush. You went out there without your leader’s approval and we won’t know the cost until tomorrow,” Haymitch’s dangerous gray eyes stare at Gale. The man is speaking with this even, slow cadence, that only serves to bring the fear of Father Sun into us. “One should never do the first thing that pops in our heads, kid. Most cases it’ll turn out to be some stupid bullshit that’ll land you in a heap of trouble.”

  Gale’s jaw muscles tense; his eyes flit momentarily towards Alma’s retreating form in the very back of the crowd, and my gut tells me tonight’s incident is Alma’s brainchild, not Gale’s. He’s just the scapegoat.

  “I think we should all go to our houses and sleep. If the pack was going to retaliate tonight, they’d’ve already come.”

  My father comes to my side and gives me a quick disapproving glance before putting his hand on shoulder to guide me home.

  “I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.” I mumble to the ground.

  My father gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and lets it go. “No, Katkin. Gale is assuming too much and fooling himself into lofty conclusions. But, you’re here when you were supposed to be home under your mother’s supervision. I have no other recourse than to leave you to her discretion once we get home.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask him widening my eyes.

  “I won’t intervene if she sees fit to ground you.” He tells me arching both brows.

  I scowl turning my face away from his.

  When we’re finally home, my mother simply glares at me and orders me straight to bed. In the morning, I’m made to do my chores, and then I have to attend a sewing gathering with the married women— something I haven’t done since I was old enough to go catch bullfrogs at the creek on my own— and after that, I had to sit home and stargaze from my bedroom window, while Prim and Rue go around doing fun stuff without me.

  It was the most boring day ever, until my dreams came back to plague me. This time is not an  anthropomorphic wolf who visits me, but Gale.

  He’s in his Chief outfit, his headpiece is made of buck antlers so big, I’m not sure how he’s walking upright; his robes are made of colorful wool and soft tan deerskin. But there’s a rattlesnake wrapped around his forehead, hissing into his ear.  The snake coils down one arm, while the tail is wraps around his wrists tightly.

  I’m trying to warn him of the danger, but the snakes bifurcated tongue won’t let him hear me. I have to think of something to free him from it, but I can’t get close enough to help.

  I end up waking in a cold sweat, breathing frantically and almost crying aloud, knowing the snake will claim my friend’s life if I don’t get back to him and kill the reptile.

  “Katniss?” Prim mumbles groggily from her bedroll. “Are you okay?” She’s trying so hard to sit up.

  “I’m fine Prim. Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep, Little Duck.”

  “M-kay… but you let me know if you need-“ yawn, “anything.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I smile because Prim’s bleary eyes shut and a slow snore escapes her pretty much instantly.

  I’m still shaken by my dream about Gale; sleep eludes me thinking of a way to help him out, until dawn.

  ————-

  Alpha Mellark sends a messenger to request a meeting, just as our own messenger was being dispatched for the same purpose.

  Thom, Bristel and Gale have to prepare apologies to clan Mellark for burning down their fields.

  The meeting is to take place in the Pack’s riverbank. I’m allowed to come listen in for the first time ever, mainly because Gale claims his actions are a direct result of the incident of the morning of Purification Day. Haymitch is there too, watching me like a hawk, which is a little unnerving, and Gale and his friends will have to sit in the canoe we’ll use to get across, until they’re summoned to the meeting.

  Alma is hovering in my periphery, but I pay her no attention, instead I shoulder my bow, if I trust anyone with a bow and arrow, it’s myself. But Alma insists on lurking in the background, so I stare at her this time, letting her know I see her, and I’m onto her, whatever she’s trying to do.

  The wolves are already waiting for us. They look so dignified and regal despite some people from the tribe— mainly Alma and whomever’s ears she has— consider them savage animals with no refinement or civility.

  My father and Alpha Mellark bow to one another and after a moment, they embrace briefly, in an amicable display of unity, like they do every time they meet.

  The only way I can describe the Pack, is like, city folk. They wear leather boots that lace up, thin linen shirts, sturdy dark trousers that button up in the front. A few of them wear suspenders, and the women present are clad in colorful calico dresses which mother would adore.

  Their faces are solemn. Pale skin from being indoors often, and flowing golden hair that frame clear blue eyes, much like those on my mother and Primrose.

  My mother and sister have always looked out of place in the tribe of olive skin, dark haired Seams. No wonder my mother has struggled so much to fit in with my people. At least I’m the spitting image of my father and people have never treated me like I don’t belong like they did to her before proving herself to be the best healer around.

  I’ve never been officially introduced to the Pack, so I’m a little shy when my father calls my name and I’m engulfed in Alpha Mellark’s arms. His limbs are as thick as tree trunks and as warm as embers. I’m immediately transported to Purification Day morning, when the Prince’s arms were around me. Somehow, his embrace felt more familiar and softer than the one I’m in at the moment. I blush wondering if the prince will hug me now?

  “Beautiful Katniss! Just as breathtaking as your mother, my cousin.” Says the Alpha.

  I turn to see my father’s reaction, because I never knew mother was part of the pack’s monarchy, which may explain aunt Effie’s fastidiousness with manners and poise; if she too was a daughter of kings and alphas, then it was in her blood to act so… neatly.

  My father nods imperceptibly, and I turn to give the Alpha a grateful nod. “T-thanks, Sir.”

  “None of that sir business, dear! I’m your kin for all intents and purposes. But come, meet my son, Peeta, and his soon to be wife, Glimmer.”

  I go mute for an awful minute.

  One time, I was atop a tall apple tree, trying to grab the biggest apple before the rest of my friends. I went too far up on a dare, and the branch under me grew too frail and broke, sending me down like a sack of rocks. I caught a branch in the stomach and flipped around it one full spiral, then crashed to the ground, hard. I hurt so much, and the impact of the hard branch on my stomach knocked all the air out of me, when I open my mouth to sob, no sounds came out, which freaked me out more. I entered into this panic cycle where the harder I tried to cry, the harder it became to breathe, thus no sounds coming out of me.

  It’s how I feel right now, looking at the woman hanging from the Prince’s elbow.

  I noticed the beautiful lady, but I hadn’t taken the time to actually look at her. Every strand of golden hair is perfectly coiffed in place, her eyes are an otherworldly hue of green that rackes over my underwhelming figure and seemingly finds me lacking, because her lips twist upward in a mocking sneer she hides quickly when the Alpha faces her.

  “We’ve already met, haven’t we Miss Everdeen?” Says the Prince with a soft, amicable smile.

  I guess he won’t be giving me any hugs after all.

  I give an awkward nod, “We got unofficially acquainted with each other the other morning.” Why does my voice sound so squeaky?

  Although I was never invited to official meetings between the heads of the clans growing up— on account that I usually got bored pretty quick and meandered away anyway— Prince Peeta has always been at his father’s side, wherever the Alpha goes, since I can remember. It’s hard to miss a boy that smiles so warmly at everyone, but I guess I’ve been a little fixated on him since I was around thirteen; the prince is a couple of years older than me, and way friendlier than I’ll ever be, I saw him talking to this Seam girl, Leevy, once, and he gave her this lopsided smile that made him look so… cute, and then he winked at her, making her giggle.

  I don’t know why, but watching him do that, made my cheeks warm up and gave me a nervous twinkle in the pit of the stomach. After that, I started finding reasons to be around the places where the Wolf and Seam leaders were gathering for their conclaves and councils. As far as I can tell, I never actually set out to purposely see the prince, but now because of my gut reaction to the news of his engagement, I’m wondering if subconsciously, that’s all it was about?

  Both my father and the Alpha laugh bringing me back to the present, and I have the nagging suspicions it’s me they find amusing.

  If I could glare at either of them I would, but at the moment I’m rooted to the ground and my body muscles are frozen in place.

  “I haven’t met the sweet, young girl!” Says Glimmer in a saccharine tone. “I’m Lady Glimmer, future Madam Alpha,” she titters and wraps both arms around the prince’s one.

  “Charmed.” I tell her trying to emulate Effie’s mannerisms as closely as I can.

  “How about Finnick? Have you met Finnick yet? And my beloved niece, Delly!” Alpha Mellark waves them over.

  Beta Odair I recognize immediately. Everybody knows him, really. Every girl in the tribe swoons and giggles behind their school books or shawls when his name gets mentioned. He’s the most sensuous man— or wolf— I’ve ever seen, yet I don’t find him all that attractive. He seems the type to change girlfriends the same way one changes undergarments before each bath.

  He’s always in some kind of official business when seen outside the pack’s territory; which accounts for how serious he always seems, but I can see a spark of deviousness in his sea green eyes when he finally reaches his big hand out for me to grasp.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Katniss. I’m Finnick Odair. You look lovely sans all that mud.” He winks at me.

  I feel my cheeks heat up, but then I’m squeezing his huge hand so tightly he arches an eyebrow at our hands before smiling at me.

  “Thank you, sir. You look shorter, now that I’m rightside up.” I quip before realizing what I’m doing.

  There’s a second of silence, but then Haymitch’s guffawing. “What did I tell ya? Chief’s girl is got spunk!”

  Finnick Odair joins in the laughter, and soon even I am smiling at the ridiculousness.

  A look passes between the Beta and the Prince— a knowing look— I can’t make out, so I move on to greet the last person in the Wolves’ party. A girl about my age with yellowish hair, so curly I can’t see how she’d ever get a brush through the strands. Her wide, happy blue eyes, and tiny nose make her face look sweet, but it’s the sight of her smile, biggest and most genuine I’ve ever seen before, that makes me like her. She’s got a bit of meat to spare on her bones too, but she’s pretty enough, and her dress fits perfectly over her curvy shape.

  She, like the Alpha, throws her arms around me as if we are friends that haven’t seen each other in years finally reconnecting. “My word, Miss Katniss! Why you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!” She says giving me a tight squeeze. “I’m Madelynn by the way, but everyone calls me Delly. I’m acting Madam Alpha, since I’m the only female left in the family.”

  “Oh,” I’m not sure what to say, “Hi, Miss Delly?” I look at my father for guidance, while awkwardly patting Delly’s back, but father is already immersed in conversation with the Alpha and completely ignoring me.

  “Oh it’s a delight to finally meet you, Katniss! May I call you Katniss?” Delly has finally let go of me, but she’s talking a mile a second practically in my ear when I see my father wave at Gale and company to join us, and then Finnick taps the girl on the shoulder and she finally falls into place, next to the prince and his fiancée.

  Father introduces Gale, his introduction goes unsurprisingly more subdued than mine. Then Gale gives his half hearted apology to the pack leaders while they watch stoically at him.

  “My dear boy,” Says the Alpha, addressing Gale, who tenses at the endearment. “Have you ever heard about our past history? The Seams and The Pack?”

  Gale stares at the man for a moment before nodding. “It’s filled with strife and truce over and over.”

  “It’s also filled with blood and very costly losses.” Adds the Alpha. “Have you heard of the seventy-five years of darkness both our peoples lived during the reign of Alpha Snow?”

  Gale nods once more, “Worse conflict in our history, I believe.”

  “Right you are. It was a terrible time. Famine and illness ran rampant. War and bloodshed at every turn. Women and children tore apart so horribly,  even now I have nightmares about it. Snow did not care if you were man or wolf; if you crossed him, you were his enemy, and he would destroy everything you held dear. Nothing was safe with him around. Nothing was sacred. Do you know how we were able to overthrow Snow’s regime of terror?”

  “By throwing my people in between your army and his until you came up the victor.” Gale says with vitriol in his voice.

  “No, lad.” Says Haymitch, to my surprise. His tone sad but sure. “It was a joint effort and every warrior in those battles came voluntarily, because it was the right thing to do. We fought shoulder to shoulder with the lot you call ‘mutts’, and endured bitter losses, but also celebrated great wins. We supported one another and worked together until the monster was finished and his body was broken in a million pieces.” Haymitch fixes his gray penetrating eyes on Gale and says, “Don’t let that aunt of yours fill your head with inaccuracies, kid. Learn your history for yourself, or you’ll be bound to repeat the same mistakes, like the fickle, forgetful creatures we humans are.”

  Gale simply scowls, staring at the ground.

  That dream about the snake twisting around Gale’s body smacks me in the gut, and I can’t unsee the image, desperately hoping Gale will hear reason now.

  “Without the help of Chief Everdeen, we would’ve never dethroned Snow, and because of the sacrifice of your people, during that bitter war, I’m willing to overlook your actions against my people, young Master Hawthorne. I will attribute the loss of my whole crop of wheat to the saying of ‘boys will be boys’ and let you off with a warning.”

  Gale looks up, ready to argue, but my father is quick to step in before Gale has a chance to make matters worse. “Thank you, my dear friend. This kindness won’t be forgotten.”

  “There still be consequences.” Says Beta Odair gravely. “These ‘boyish’ actions have left our clan, without sustenance for the rest of the year. Sure, we can hunt, we are passable farmers, but we are not gatherers the same way you Seams are. With the sowing season gone, there won’t be time to plant any crops before winter, and I’m afraid we can’t survive on just the scraps we have in store now.”

  “What do you propose?” Asks Haymitch, his eyes searching Odair’s face.

  “A third of your crops. Grains are preferable if you can spare them.”

  As expected, Gale gets worked up at once. “This is insane! I say n—“

  “Yes.” Says my father firmly, giving Gale a hard glare. “I believe it’s a reasonable request, and I will personally see to it that it gets honored.”

  “Sir! With all due respect. But you can’t agree to these demands! Our people will suffer—“

  “Then you should’ve have thought about it before attacking the Pack during a period of peace, Gale Hawthorne!”

  Everybody present winces.

  I think this is the very first time anyone has heard my father raise his voice in anger at anyone, but he’s not done.

  “If our people suffers hunger, it is your own doing, Gale. You acted of your own, without my counsel or blessing and brought this disgraceful punishment upon yourself. So now we all have to pay the price for your brashness. Now, we accept the terms of Alpha Mellark, and promise this entire animosity ends here!”

  Nobody dares contradict my father. We all bow to the Wolves, as is our custom when an agreement has been reached, and one by one, we return to the canoes waiting to take us back to our own territory.

  At least, this will mark the end of Gale’s warmongering, and we will all breathe easier again.

  ———-

  Wrong!

  The full moon appears high in the sky the night before my birthday. There has been no more talk of my impending future as I become of age, which is a relief, really; but Gale has been oddly withdrawn and quiet for the last two days since the meeting with the clans’ heads.

  Father called a tribe meeting the same evening to inform our people of the agreement with the pack. Most everyone bemoaned the deal. A third of our grains sounded like a very steep price, but nobody stopped to think about how extensive the damage Gale’s antics had cause the pack; and honestly, the third of our crops couldn’t possibly be enough to feed the pack outside of winter, when game was scarce and wild fruits and other foods were small pickings in the wild.

  I felt awful for them, knowing they were actually very lenient with their punishment, because they could have demanded more, or worse, retaliate by torching our own crops, yet, they went the peaceful route and showed mercy to the tribe.

  It should’ve been the end of the scuffles, but at midnight, on my seventeenth birthday, Gale led a group of disgruntled Seams back into Werewolf territory, causing a terrible bloodbath.

  ————-

  On the 8th day of May, while the sky is still very dark, my village lays in disarray.

  Pools of blood seep into the dry earth all around our campground, and people shuffle around on quick feet, scanning the darkness with their limited human vision as best they can, trying to move the few farm animals we have left to safety, although the attack is over with now.

  All our livestock is gone, either scattered into the wild, scared, or devoured in their pens, but no cattle remains. A severed chicken head lies near the well in the middle of the village; there’s no knowing where it came from or who it belonged to, so Thom, one of Gale’s friends, picks it up and throws it in a bag on the back of the cart he’s pulling around town, collecting animal gore, and injured people that tried to get in the way of the wolves.

  My house is filled with the ones that need emergency healing, but my mother’s hands shake violently. She keeps muttering apologies under her breath to nobody in particular, until Prim takes the thread and needle from her hands and sutures the open wound mother was supposed to be working on. Prim’s voice on the other hand is soothing, and possibly the only thing keeping everyone from breaking apart.

  Gale is sitting in a corner, bleeding from a scratch on his neck, but otherwise fine. He’s shaken and pale, his eyes are lost and unseeing, but I can’t find it in me to feel pity for him, so I look away and try not to breathe in the stench of sweat and blood coiling in the air while making my way out of the hut.

  I’m armed with my bow and arrows when I step outside my house. I’m not sure what to do with myself, but I figure I’m more useful out here, on self appointed watch duty, than I’ll ever be inside with all the injured and maimed people.

  I don’t think the Pack came here to kill any of us, they had their pick of our lot when they broke into the village and our warriors tried to defend our animals, but the message was clear: There’s a war brewing now, and you’re no match for us.

  My father and Haymitch left to try and negotiate a solution with the Alpha Wolf, but everything is looking bleak right now.

  It’s been confirmed by the returning rogue fighters, Gale’s raid killed one of them, and left another one badly beaten. The Pack will demand retribution, and this time it won’t be just a third of our crops.

  Earlier, I heard a boy holding on to a dead sheep, scream at Thom, “What idiot thought it would be a good idea to go after group of werewolves on a full moon night?”

  The kid was absolutely right. One just doesn’t go picking unprovoked fights with things that can eat you. You especially don’t ended up murdering somebody if you’re not prepared to pay blood for blood.

  My eyes fill up with hot, angry tears. Today was supposed to be a happy day for my family. A day of celebration. Instead, my father is out there in the wild, looking for a werewolf king, trying to avoid a full on war that will kill us all, just because a teenager too blinded by anger and resentment couldn’t leave well enough alone.

  That’s a definite no to Gale’s proposal! I think bitterly.

  How could I even consider it? Not to sound conceited, but he ruined my birthday! Not to mentioned brought on a war with the Pack to our front door. How could we ever keep the peace now?

  My eyes focus on a shadow lurking between the nearby huts. My heart beats quicken and my adrenaline flows copiously. I realize who it is, and all the anxiousness, fear and rage I’ve been feeling for the last few hours zero in on my target.

  Her face is oddly illuminated by the moonlight that lingers up above; she toes some debris over, before moving back to the middle of the path.

  Before I can think of what I’m doing, my fingers pull an arrow from my quiver and nock it on the bow. I aim at Alma’s face— the snake who’s always whispered hatred into Gale’s ear— just as she looks up and our eyes collide.

  Her eyes widened in fear; she’s paralyzed like a deer about to be shot down. I pull my bowstring tight, ready to let it fly, but my mother runs out of the hut yelling my father’s name frantically and bumps into me, making me stumble forward.

  When I look up and gather myself, Alma has slipped away.

  “Mother!” I hiss harshly, “what’s wrong?”

  “Katniss… you have to save him. Please, get someone to help! Your father’s in danger!”

  She’s not done talking, but I take off running blindly. I’m not even sure where I’m going, and I wish I had my mother’s super hearing, so at least I could tell which direction to go.

  “This way!” My mother calls breathless from my left, towards the river, and I follow her lead as she crushes through brush and bushes as if they weren’t there at all.

  I try to ignore the bile and fear strangling me, and keep abusing my legs and knees, forcing them to go faster, and faster, until we come to a stop at the foot of the hill where everything started.

  Haymitch lays unconscious on the ground, and my father has been cornered with his hands raised defensively, trying to reason with a group of five enormous looking wolves all baring their sharp, deadly fangs at him.

  “Fellows, I understand your anger and it’s completely justified, but please, let me speak to your Alpha, we may come to a truce—“

  The biggest wolf steps forward with raised hackles, a bristled tail and a low growl that makes a shiver go down my spine. The wolf is ready to attack, so I jump between him and my father, my arrow ready to pierce his skull any second.

  “Stay away from him! If you want somebody to kill, take me!” I yell at the beast like a lunatic.

  Everything happens so fast, I barely have time to react: my father cries out my name and tries to shove me out of the way; the wolf hesitates for a fraction of a second— maybe I stunned him stepping between him and my father— but recuperates quickly and his blue, angry eyes squint at me, following the trajectory of my body as my father tries to get me to safety.

  The wolf’s ears twitch and his stance lowers; in the blink of an eye he leaps forward, trapping me against a tree with his front paws on my shoulders.

  I think I’m screaming. I’m not sure. All I know is that my vision is blurry, my throat is burning, my fingers lost contact with my bow, and hot, humid breath is wafting all over my face, while a low, menacing rumble fills my ears blocking away any other sound.  

  I grit my teeth, clench my eyes, and turn my face away, bracing for long sharp teeth to sink into my flesh and snuff the life out of me.

  Instead, a slick, warm, leathery knob presses against my neck and inhales harshly. Coarse whiskers prickle my cheek and under my chin.

  I risk opening one eye to see why this crazy wolf isn’t ripping my throat wide open this second, but the big lupine is just sniffing me intently. I doubt he’s trying to be friendly though, he keeps grunting and hissing at me, actually breathing in my scent a little too aggressively.

  His friends crowd closer to us curiously, their noses pointing at me. The wolf restraining me lashes out, swiping a paw at them, growling something fierce, like he’s telling them I’m his and he’s not sharing. The other wolves retreat but keep on circling around us.

  I hear my father crying out my name. My mother does too, and the other wolves seem a little agitated, whimpering to their leader while keeping my parents at bay; they’re not really going after my parents, which is a relief, they’re just acting as wall separating me and the big fellow from them.

  The idea comes to me, that maybe this big guy is Alpha Mellark; after all, father went out looking for him.

  I try to swallow down the lump of fear choking me, and say shakenly, “Alpha Mellark, Sir? It’s me, Katniss.”

  The wolf tenses, and growls into my face baring his canines at me.

  I make the mistake of turning my face away in terror when I notice the big, scary, fangs are dripping blood and the fur on his snout is also covered in gore. I hope the mess belongs to some wild game and not somebody’s pet, like Prim’s beloved goat, Lady, for example.

  Seeing the access I just opened up, the wolf digs his nose into my exposed neck, and does something unexpected, he takes a tentative swipe of his tongue across my skin. That seems to calm him down, so stay stock still and let him lick the mess out of me to his heart’s content. He exhales slowly through his nostrils and then nuzzles my shoulder with his soft forehead.

  Encouraged by this gesture, I try again. “Sir,” my voice comes out tremulous, “I know something horrible was done to the Pack tonight, and I know that a debt has to be paid now. I volunteer as tribute. Take me, and spare my people. Please.”

  I’m pretty sure the other wolves heard me, because they start dancing and yapping excitedly in the background. The Alpha lifts his head growling lowly, his lips pull all the way back so I can see not only his sharp teeth but also his pink gums.

  I think to myself, this is it! He will shred me to pieces. I just hope he does leave my tribe alone after killing me.

  An image of sweet Prim as a toddler comes to mind, how tiny and cute she was. Another of us just days ago at the hot springs, while she brushed and braided my hair. I think of the things I’ll miss, like nephews and nieces, and my parents growing old, Rue singing while she gathers crops with her five little siblings… if only I had the chance to grow old to see all of that at least once more.

  The wolf puts his whole weight on one paw, almost crushing me to the ground; he howls standing on his hind legs and supporting his body on my shoulder, while his other leg curls in the air.

  The rest of the pack stops what they’re doing— at least the ones around us do— and howl to the sky in response.

  The sound is deep and piercing, deafening since I’m so close. Suddenly, all the pressure on my shoulder lifts up and I spill to the foot of the tree, falling on my rear, feeling every last acorn and twig I land on. The big wolf steps away from me, giving me one last stare, and then howls at his companions again, they do a lap around me and the tree, and take off running towards their own land beyond the river.

  “Katniss!” Gasps my father gathering me into his arms. I start to weep and shake. “Are you hurt? I tried to get to you sooner, but one of them stepped on your bow and broke it in half—“

  “We threw rocks and tried to go at them with clubs, but they just… ignored us. What did you tell him, the Prince?” Asks my mother looking me over, “Is this your blood?” She prods, moving the material of my jacket to the side around the neck area, where the wolf had been sniffing and licking me.

  “It’s not- it’s not my blood.” I shudder. “It was on the wolf… wait. That wasn’t Alpha Mellark? I thought it was the Alpha. All the others… they seemed to follow his lead.” I say gasping for air.

  “The Alpha was badly injured.” says Haymitch who’s come toward us unsteadily, holding his arm to his chest. “Ma’am, would you mind putting my arm in a sling when we get back home? I think something’s broken.” He tells my mother conversationally, as if he was just commenting on the weather.

  Mother makes a face while checking my neck, and discovering there isn’t even a scratch there. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I have a hunch she’ll be bombarding me questions back at the hut. Turning to Haymitch, she asses his arm is dislocated, so she tears a strip of clothing from the bottom of her cotton dress and makes a sling for the man’s arm. Father helps me up, his arm wraps around me protectively and I sink into his familiar warmth, taking in his scent.

  I’m trying not to think about losing him tonight, because then I’ll start crying again, and we simply don’t have the luxury to break down right now, not when we’re slowly shuffling back to the village, and we can see the tribesmen and women come out to receive us. The worry in their faces and then the relief of knowing that the chief and his family are all safe is almost heartbreaking.

  “Thank the almighty Sun, his rays are rising,” whispers my father. “The wolves will turn back to men and women soon, and we can seek for a parley to salvage what we can.” He sounds so tired, but the people around us look at him with hope in their eyes, knowing he’ll do all he can to stop the madness of the last few hours. “Rest and see to your families. We won’t solve anything for a few hours. Pray to Father Sun our Pack brethren find it in their hearts to forgive the ill advised actions of a few, in order to spare the rest of us.”

  With those words, he ducks inside Haymitch’s hut, next to ours. I doubt he’ll go to sleep, but he’ll have quiet and a chance to rest there, since our home is still being used to tend to the injured. It’s a relief to know everyone will recover fully in the next few weeks; it’s our livestock that worries me. Only a few animals have been recovered and the rest will have to be replaced, or we won’t have dairy or wool to prepare for winter.

  “Catnip, where have you been? I’ve looked all over for you!” Breathes out Gale jogging towards me.

  I turn around and go the opposite direction, but he catches up with me and spins me around by the elbow.

  “What happened to you? Did they hurt you?” He demands alarmed as soon as he sees the blood on the collar of my shirt.

  I shrug his hands off me and step away from him. “I’m fine. It’s not my blood.” I tell him dully.

  “Well, thank Father Sun you’re safe then.” He mutters softly. “Hap-happy birthday.” He says quietly.

  “Yeah. Very happy.” I finally turn away from him and this time he doesn’t stop me.

  —————

  The Pack representatives march into our village unopposed at noon. The sun is beating down on us, and everyone is gathered in the center of camp in what would be considered our plaza, which is just the well and some short trees with minimum greenery.

  My father, Haymitch, and an elderly man call Dalton, wait for the Alpha, who’s looking worse for wear, but not as hurt as I figured he’d be.

  I vaguely remember hearing my mother say that their kind heals twice as fast, so, maybe that’s the case this time around.

  Delly walks next to the Alpha, acting as his support. Then there’s the Prince, looking rather angry and lost, which makes my stomach uneasy. I don’t ever remember seeing him upset before; he’s always smiling when I’ve seen him.

  Beta Odair and a handful of other people from the pack follow, but there’s no future Madam Alpha to be seen, which I find peculiar, because I figured this would be a diplomatic event she’d attend on her fiancé’s arm.

  “My most esteemed ally.” starts my father.

  “Am I still that, my friend?” rasps out the Alpha painfully.

  I guess he’s not as well as I thought.

  “Sad day it is today, certainly. Innocent blood was spilt last night, and today we mourn a big loss.” says the Alpha.

  The Prince looks away from us, biting his lips down, fisting his hands until his knuckles turn white. His eyes fill with tears that won’t spill just yet.

  I wonder who it is Gale and his buddies killed?

  “It is a sad day indeed. And we offer our condolences and most sincere desire to bring justice to your people.” Says my father frowning.

  “That’s good my friends, since my son, Crown Prince Peeta, is here looking for retribution.” Alpha Mellark says grimly. “Prince Peeta’s betrothed, was taken from him in last night’s unexpected conflict.”

  There’s a collective intake of air around the villagers.

  “Prince Peeta demands the debt brought on by Lady Glimmer’s shed blood, be paid in full, today.”

  I take Prim’s arm and dig my blunt nails into her delicate skin.

  Calmly, she pries off my fingers, one at a time, and then holds my hand, squeezing it. “They won’t kill Gale.” She whispers doubtfully. “Father will figure something out.”

  I nod. Regardless of how angry I am at him right now, Gale’s still one of my oldest friends and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a big brother. I don’t want him to be executed any more than I want a war. But, he did attack the Pack treacherously and killed someone… the Prince’s future wife no less! My father has his work cut out for him negotiating peace with the Wolves this time.

  “What does the Prince suggest is owed to him to keep the peace?” Asks my father cautiously.

  The Alpha opens his mouth and closes it again. His brow knits together on his forehead, and his eyes flit towards my mother first, then to me, and then the prince himself takes a step forward, raises a finger towards me, and mother gasps aloud, a soul crushing “No!”

  “Chief’s daughter, Katniss.” Says Prince Peeta in a sour tone.

  “My daughter?” Demands my father, while the crowd murmurs and gasps.

  It’s Prim’s turn to dig her nails into my arm, except she’s trying in vain to hide me behind her slight frame. “Not my sister! That’s not an even trade!” Prim screams flailing in front of me, shielding me from the wolves.

  I’m numb. I didn’t think he’d spare me last night, just to make my execution public today… on my birthday!

  “There has to be another way,” Father begs, “There must be—“

  “I need a wife!” Calls the Prince loudly, “I was robbed one, so I’m taking a new one. The best fitting one. Katniss Everdeen,” he points at me again, “she’s the price to be paid. A bride for a bride.”

  “You can’t take her for a wife! She’s a human woman, our kinds don’t mix!” Argues Gale coming to stand next to Prim.

  Peeta moves so fast it’s scary. In a second he’s grabbed Gale by the collar and has him pressed to the side of the well.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, son of the Sun, Katniss is half my kind. Our races mix just fine. Unlike that aunt of yours, children can be born to human and wolf parents. I suggest you start thinking, before you open your mouth.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gale asks as puzzle as I feel, not even bothering to fight Peeta off.

  My mother tries to argue. “But my daughter, she’s your kin—“

  “She should be of marrying age by now. Yes?” Says Alpha Mellark almost with regret. “A marriage is all my son seeks. No more blood spilled. No revenge and no war. Just marriage. If you agree with our terms, we will give you a week to prepare the exchange, and this incident will never be spoken of ever again.”

  My father looks at me, his gray eyes red rimmed and full of conflicting emotions. “Katkin,” he finally addresses me, “As of today, you are of age. I cannot make this decision for you. As your Chief, I must ask you to consider the wellbeing of your tribesmen and women. As your father, I will support whatever you choose to do, to the bitter end.”  

  “Even if it means war?” I ask in a scratchy voice ignoring Gale’s rantings even restrained by the Prince.

  “Even so, Katkin.”

  I shift my eyes to the Prince. My stomach does a flip when his dilated pupils meet my eyes. He looks so crazed and in pain, so wild. My dreams of lustfull werewolves emerged unbidden from my subconscious, and I feel a heaviness in my core, a foreboding excitement, and a curious pull to this man. I have to shake my head from the inappropriate thoughts and feelings. He’s grieving and he’s a werewolf. I would never lay with an animal in my right mind, that’s disgusting!

  But then I look at my people, faces haggard from the long vigil last night, fearful eyes, and determination to fight for me if necessary.

  I won’t have their blood on my hands or in my conscious.

  There’s only one answer to give. “I’ll marry the Prince in a weeks time if that will save our people.”

  “No!” Gale screams, finally throwing off Peeta’s hold and rushing to me. “You can’t do that! You’re supposed to marry me!”

  It’s the last straw. My anger comes out in scalding hot tears to equal the fire and brimstone I unleash on Gale.

  “This is all your fault, Gale Hawthorne! You allowed that harpy, Alma, fill your mind and heart with so much hatred, you couldn’t see beyond your own righteousness. Even if I’d wanted to marry you, which I’ve never agreed to, now I have to think of our whole community. Not just the tribe, but the Pack as well! You burned down their food supply and now you killed someone. If all they require from us to forgive this affront is my hand in marriage, then they can have it. I already volunteered to save the tribe anyway.

  “Now stop this nonsense and learn from your mistakes. Never let Alma influence your thoughts, or your chiefdom will be the shortest one in history, and it’ll be in constant conflict. Think of your family for once. Your mother and siblings are so precious and valuable, don’t let them be destroyed because of pride, or resentment, or greed. Ask yourself, what’s in it for your aunt? Maybe you won’t like the answers so much. Now, excuse me. I have a marriage to prepare for.”

  “Katniss…” Peeta’s broken voice calls, but I ignore him too, fed up with guys and their testosterone competitions.

  I push my way away from the crowd. I don’t want to stick around and hear anything else. All I know is that I have to leave before I do something really stupid, like cry in front of the Prince.

  —————-

  I’m running in the woods, only the stars shine down on the path. It’s not enough light to see where I’m going, so I try extra hard not to trip on roots or dislodged rocks.

  I can hear the wolf howling before I see him. I recognize this one, it’s big and fast, and his eyes are dilated and wide; I can’t see the white in them. His coat is silvery and shiny under the night sky, and I wonder were the moon could be. I think it’s the wolf himself emitting light, but I can’t be sure.

  The wolf overtakes me after a moment running. He tackles me to the ground and licks my neck and nuzzles my jaw. He licks my lips while the claws of his humanoid hands rip my clothes to shreds.

  “Peeta… not like this.” I sigh digging my fingers into his soft fur.

  “How then?” He asks in that deep, velvety voice of his, and when I look at him, he’s a man again.

  “Not like this…”

  Something is about to give when sobbing drags me back to wakefulness, all sweaty and bothered.

  “Not like this!” Whispers my mother in the family room separated from our sleeping quarters by pelts and skins. “I knew this was going to happen! The Prince’s eyes have always strayed to her. I thought it was done with the moment my cousin announced that marriage contract with that Glimmer girl. I should have known he’d find a way to get my daughter at the end.”

  “If you’re right, and Sweetheart caught the Boy’s eye before now, maybe it was meant to be. It’s not like the Prince could’ve planned something so callous, getting rid of the fiancée so violently, to go after Sweetheart.” Says Haymitch, which surprises me. “It was all Alma’s schemes,”

  “Now, now, we do not know that this was her doing for sure. But what does the Chief say about this mess?” Responds Effie stiffly.

  “I think it’s all too confusing and emotional a burden for a seventeen year old to bear. On the other hand, the Prince is only nineteen himself, he could have become alpha last night and that may had scared him, added to the grief of losing his future mate. He’s not thinking straight, and has given himself only one week to come to his senses. I could try talking to the Alpha again. He may be on our side on this.”

  “I don’t know. Things are so unstable at the moment, like standing on thin ice, one wrong move, and we all fall to our doom.”

  “We can’t think that way…”

  Prim leans up on her bedroll, our eyes meet, then with the grace of a cat, she scoots from her bed to mine, and hugs me to her. “It’ll be fine; I know it will.” She whispers into my hair.

  The hushed voices outside quiet down abruptly, and I know my mother is aware we’re eavesdropping. She always knows when we do if we don’t stay perfectly still.

  That doesn’t deter Prim.

  “You’re the strongest person I know, if the Wolves want you, it’s because they know you’re better than them.”

  “Who’s supposed to be the big sister here?” I ask with slow tears trailing down my face. “How did you get so smart little Duck?”

  “Living with you. Something had to rub on.” We smile at each other sadly.

  “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you too!”

  We huddle together under my covers the rest of the week, enjoying each other’s love as much as we can.

  —————

  The week goes by fast. I put all my affairs in order, and yet, it doesn’t feel like enough time to say goodbye to a life I took for granted.

  My father builds me a new bow with his own hands, and his work is exquisite as always, just this time, he’s outdone himself by carving delicate katniss blooms all over the bow’s limbs and grip, and then he puts a black polish on it, making the designs pop.

  I’m not sure how he makes it so fast, but I’m glad he’s given me back part of my identity with such a amazing gift.

  My mother fits me into all her old calico print dresses from her years growing up with the pack, and cries when I choose to wear a pretty blue number that buttons up on the front, instead of my deerskin trousers and old leather jacket that used to belong to my father in his youth. I still pack those in my game bag before shouldering my bow and quiver. Father didn’t have time to make me a matching quiver, but I tell him it’s for the best, I’ll have an excuse to see him when he does make it. He smiles at that for the first time since all this nightmare started and kisses my forehead lovingly.

  “I like how you think, Katkin.” He caresses my cheek with his thumb and sighs. “It’s time. Your groom should be waiting by the river by now.”

  I nod. I know if I talk all that will come out is ugly crying, and I can’t allow that right now.

  So we march with half the tribe to the river,where indeed a large group from the ack is congregated waiting for me.

  Prince Peeta is crouching on our side, doodling something on the wet dirt with his fingers. Beta Odair is next to him, and has to kick him on the boot to alert him of our presence. Peeta stands straight and dusts his hands on his pants, then he starts patting down his hair. His eyes keep shifting between the ground and the people around him, and finally he swipes his foot over whatever doodles he’d made on the ground. He keeps fiddling with his fingers, until Odair leans in and says something into his ear. After that, Peeta brings his hands behind his back and tries to smile at me… but his eyes and mouth don’t seem to be able to stay put in just one position.

  “I think he’s nervous, poor dear.” Says Prim giggling.

  “I’m glad you find this amusing!” I hiss at her under my breath.

  “Ow. You’d find it amusing too if you were as convinced as I am that he’s had a crush on you all along.”

  “He did not! His fiancée got killed!” I say crossly, “This is just a transaction that needed to be made.”

  Prim shakes her head. “I know.” Her voice is finally devoid of amusement. “But I heard what mother said about him always staring at you, and that is a fact.”

  “Well… just because one looks at a person, doesn’t mean they’re attracted to them. Maybe he thought I was some kind of odd duckling.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Shhh!” Goes my mother and just in time to meet the Prince and Odair.

  The Prince seems to be having a hard time speaking right now. His eyes are wide, but not the least bit as crazed and pained as last week. Today his eyes are nervous and, dare I say, excited?

  “Chief Everdeen, and his most beautiful ladies.” Odair bows in greeting, then gives Peeta a small push, making him stumble closer to us.

  Peeta’s eyes fix on my father though, and I don’t know if what I’m feeling right now is disappointment or relief.

  “Sir, I… I owe you an apology for my behavior last week. I promise I would never put fair Katniss under such stress again… if she still agrees to grant me the honor of calling her my wife…” he hesitates and finally looks at me. “Please?”

  His eyes are so sad and pleading, and that uncomfortable thing is back twisting my stomach, only this time it feels like a band of birds are swooping up and down in there.

  “I gave you my word I would marry you, unless you’re prepared to give my people a full pardon without the deal?” I pose to him.

  His lips twitch, and then form a thin line. “I will do what you ask of me, my lady. I’ll move my Pack away from here, if that’s what you prefer. I’m at your command.”

  He’s so serious and solemn, I have no choice but to believe him. I don’t dare look at my parents, least of all Primrose, because her voice is still ringing in my ears from earlier, “… he’s had a crush on you all along… and that is a fact.”

  I swallow thickly. “The marriage stands if you promise to keep peace between our peoples.” I say staring right into his eyes, that have noticeably softened.

  His shoulders relax at my words, his facial expression becomes less nervous. I think he was afraid I’d change my mind, which now makes me wonder if he changed his mind. But then why act so tense and anxious?

  “If we are all in agreement, then it is time.” Says my father clearing his voice a couple of times.

  “Thank you!” Prince Peeta says shaking my father’s hand. “I promise your daughter will be treated with all the respect and love our alpha ladies before her have had. She will be free to see you anytime she wants, and with Father Sun and Mother Moon as our witnesses, this union will strengthen the bonds between Seams and Wolves. There will be no wars between us as long as we can live in harmony.”

  “May this be a new era of peace and prosperity for all. Go with my blessing, and produce many children.” My father puts my hand into Prince Peeta’s, and then the prince scoops me up in his arms, startling me, and we cross the river with my father’s blessing.

  I’m a wolf bride now.

  I take a look over Peeta’s shoulder and see my parents and Prim holding on to each other tightly. Gale is crying quietly while his mother rubs his back and his brothers mind Posy. Alma is nowhere to be seen which is just fine by me. My people are safe; it’s all that matters.

  My arms sit uselessly on my lap, until we come to a point in the river where the water is deep and the currents are strong.

  “Could I ask you to hold on to my shoulders while we wade through this part?” Asks the prince softly.

  My cheeks heat up, and I look at Beta Odair out of the corner of my eye, but the man is stoically looking away from us.

  “I can swim across if I need to, you know.” I tell him quietly. “Or we could borrow a canoe from my father.”

  Peeta chuckles. “That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly from your groom, would it now?” He eyes me for a moment before concentrating back on the currents. “No. Carrying you ashore is the way of my people, and the least I could do after uprooting you from your home.” He says sadly.

  I sigh, but circle my arms around his thick neck all the same. My heart starts beating faster. I’ve never touched another person so… intimately before. Maybe Prim, but she’s my sister.

  “Is this alright?” I mumble awkwardly.

  “Perfect!” He responds brightly. “By the way. Thank you for not changing your mind about… all this.”

  “Mmm… and you? Have you changed your mind?” I ask and pull back trying to catch his eye.

  He shakes his head. “I do have to apologize for the way things went though. I was… angry. But that’s no excuse for my actions. I attacked you while in my wolf form, and then I marched into your town and demanded your hand in marriage like a petulant brat. I’ve been plagued with remorse ever since.” He licks his lips, “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

  “You didn’t scare me. You were like a… large, snuggly puppy, acting up.”

  Peeta gives me a look arching his eyebrow, “Ma’am, you and I seem to have very different recollections of the events. Plus, calling a grown wolf a puppy is a bit… demeaning.”

  I scowl at him, “Whatever happened with, you’ll be at my command, and you’ll do anything I say?”

  “Well, well. It seems little Miss Katniss is full of sass!” Says Odair with a smirk, still looking away from us. “I guess our Alpha was right. This one has the spirit of the Mockingjay!”

  My eyes return to Peeta who’s smiling smugly. “I seem to recall saying that myself.”

  “I don’t understand. The spirit of the Mockingjay?”

  “Oh it’s a legend passed down from father to son in our clan. I’m sure the Prince will tell you all about it once the festivities subside.” Odair winks and Peeta blushes, trying to hide a smile.

  For reasons I can’t understand, I feel myself blush as well.

  The water levels decrease from Peeta’s chest down to his waist and in no time we are back on shallow, rocky terrain. I gave Finnick Odair my bow back on my tribe’s shore, and he held it above his head while crossing the river, so when he hands it back over dry and safe, I reward him with a smile and my thanks.

  Delly is waiting for us with a big crowd of their people. She hugs me when Peeta sets me on my feet and the rest of the pack bows to us as we walk through.

  Growing up the daughter of the Chief, I never got treated any differently than other girls my age from lower rank families, so this reception is completely alien and new to me. I watch Delly and the others and follow their cues, bowing back and waving at the people around us.

  A little girl runs up to me with a bouquet of wild onion flowers and the image hits me like a one ton buffalo running full speed at my gut. I think of a younger Gale, during happier, carefree times before his mind and heart got so corrupted with envy and anger. It’s the type of plant he’d gather for eating back then.

  I take the flowers from the girl and thank her. She gives us a toothy smile and rushes away to her mother, giggling something about “the Princess is so pretty,” which again, makes me feel strange, because technically, I am a princess in my tribe, but have never heard anyone refer to me that way, so hearing a little girl call me a princess here, just makes the situation more bizarre.

  I start fiddling nervously with the end of my braid, but then a little boy points at me and declares he’s “going to marry a princess with hair as dark as a Mockingjay’s feathers.” My eyes widened and I let go of my braid like it’s burning my fingers.

  “You know, I actually said those exact same words once as a little boy.” Says Peeta in a conspiratorial tone, before playfully bumping my shoulder with his.

  I blink at him. The day can’t get any more weird. “Is that the standard rebellious fantasy for little Wolves?”

  I inhale deeply, closing my eyes to pretend I didn’t just blurt out those words. But Peeta starts laughing, so I look at him again puzzled by his reaction.

  He shrugs, and nods to some people that come forth to greet us. “When I was fourteen, I told my father I was ready to offer my marriage proposal to the girl of my dreams. I got turned down. It all worked out in the end; I got blessed with a beautiful, witty soon to be wife. I’m sure that young fellow will be alright if he doesn’t get to marry his Mockingjay haired princess.”

  Peeta’s lopsided smile makes looking at him in the face so hard. Why did have to say that to me today of all days?

  “You must have loved Glimmer so much. I’m so sorry for your loss.” I regret the words immediately, because his whole body tenses and his expression darkness, then he forces a smile.

  “Glimmer,” He says, “Although I did love her, she was not my first choice for a bride.”

  I shut my big mouth for the duration of the walk, just to avoid shoving both my feet in it again.

  We come to an actual town with cabins made of logs, mud, and straw. The windows are made of thin glass and the doors are solid wood. The paths are compressed dirt, just like back home, but they have more grass around their houses than we do around our huts.

  We come to the biggest cabin in the settlement, it looks to be two stories high, with two chimneys sticking out of the roof on each side of the building. There’s pleasant smell of yeast and sugar wafting from the place as well, and I inhale the aromas almost greedily.

  “Welcome to the Alpha’s home!” Says Delly grabbing my hand and dragging me with her to the door. “You’ll be lodging here until the wedding, tomorrow. Your belongings will be stored at the Prince’s new house next door, and I’ll be chaperoning you until you’re officially married!” Delly claps excitedly.

  “I didn’t know the wedding was tomorrow.” I say confusedly.

  “Oh yes! Your family and a few members of your tribe will attend. It’ll be grand! I think it’s the first time your people will visit town since your folks married twenty years ago! So exciting!”

  I’m trying to hide how uncomfortable I am, because I don’t want to offend anyone, especially not someone as nice and bubbly as Delly, but I’m the opposite of excited at the prospect of a grand wedding, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face.

  “Well, my lady. I’ll leave you in very competent hands. My father will be eager to see you. And I’ll come by for supper. According to my clan’s traditions our interactions should be kept to the minimum until after the wedding.”

  “Oh, of course.” Effie mentioned something about this in her unending ravings about Wolf weddings and traditions, but I tuned her out every single time she started blabbing about it. Now I wish I had been paying attention, I would be familiar with Pack culture right now.

  In my tribe, we have different rules. A couple comes of age, they negotiate a marriage contract that could mutually benefit their families. Then they have a toasting ceremony, where the couple takes turns toasting bread in their new hut’s hearth, and then feed it to each other and that’s enough ceremony to consider them legally married. Brides and grooms can see one another any time they want leading to their toasting, why some couples don’t toast until the woman is with child, but that happens so seldom.

  We go inside the house, and it surprises me to see that the first floor is almost all a gigantic kitchen, with a long counter closer to what my mother would call a ‘parlor’, and many tables on the other side of the counter with an assortment of baking tools. Two stone ovens stand at the far end wall, radiating warmth to the rest of the place. Now that I’m inside the building, the aromas I smelled out in the street make my mouth water. My stomach decides to groan loudly, hoping for a piece of fresh bread.

  “We only baked two loaves today,” Says Delly glancing at me knowingly.

  I wonder if I said the words aloud, or if I’ve been staring a the ovens with too much interest that gave me away.

  “The Mellarks have always been the Pack’s bakers even before overthrowing the Snows, and taking over as our leaders. They still bake for the most part, but since now we have to ration our wheat, they haven’t been producing as much.”

  I scowl at that. I didn’t think of the many ways the Pack was affected on their everyday lives after their wheat fields burn down. I feel indignation on the Mellarks behalf.

  “Katniss! My dear girl, welcome to my house!” Says Alpha Mellark in a booming voice coming from upstairs. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the river, to welcome you properly, but my leg hasn’t healed all the way yet, and I rather be able to come to your wedding tomorrow, than aggravating the wounds.”

  Delly rushes up to the Alpha to help him down the stairs.

  “I- I understand. Thank you for taking me in.” I say gratefully and a little shyly, but the man just walks up to me and gives me a bear hug that nearly lifts me off the floor.

  “Delly, take the future princess to her room and see that she’s comfortable. I’ll be in the backyard if you ladies like to join me for lemonade after you’ve rested.”

  The rest of the house is tidy and simple. There aren’t any luxuries we lack back home, except maybe for the indoor privy, but other than that, everything looks very similar.

  Delly is nice and good for a laugh. We get along great, and she keeps talking my ears off about how great the Prince is and how happy she is there’s another woman in the household now.

  It occurs to me that I have no idea what will become of Delly now that I’m the next woman in line to the ‘throne’.

  “So, will you still be acting Madam Alpha after I marry the Prince officially?” I ask her.

  Delly twists her pink lips to the side for a moment and shrugs. “I’m not sure, but it will be a relief if I’m demoted, really. Not that it is a bad position, and I still will have to look after uncle, now more than ever since he’s hurt. But I won’t have to adhere so closely to protocol, and people will stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”

  “No. They’ll shift that onto me.” I groan before I can stop myself.

  Delly giggles. “Of course not, silly. The reason I get treated like I’m some fragile vase, is because nobody thinks I’m capable of much, while everyone, even in the Pack, knows how strong and daring you are. Why, you’re a hunter, and I’m not, even in wolf form.” She pouts, before smiling at me. “It’s one of the things the Prince has always admired about you. He used to brag about how you could shoot squirrels through the eye every single time!”

  Well, that’s as humbling as it is surprising. I wonder how did the prince even know about my shooting skills?

  Delly sighs dramatically, “I can’t even tell you how distraught Peeta was when he heard your bow got damaged during that awful night. But I see you have a new one, and very pretty at that.” She glances at my bow leaning against the wall next to the old quiver.

  I smile. “My father made for me as a birthday present.”

  “Oh that’s right. Your seventeenth birthday got ruined.” Her tone turns sour. “It’s a shame such and important day got tainted in that horrible way. For years, Peeta has talked about baking you a cake for your seventeenth birthday.”

  “Why would the prince want to bake me a cake for my birthday?” I ask puzzled, “We just met two weeks ago.”

  Delly looks at me for a moment, and then smiles sweetly, almost sadly. “The prince has admired you from afar since he was a little boy. It’s not my story to tell, but I know he begged the Alpha to request you for his bride once before. The birthday cake was a dream of his I guess; he thought he could impress you with his frosting skills. I’m not sure if he would have still tried to bake you that birthday cake since he was engaged to Glimmer, but he sure has worked hard on your wedding cake, now that you’re his bride.”

  “That’s… not possible.” I say blushing furiously. “It can’t be. The prince would have to have liked me for years…”

  “He has.” Says Delly soothingly. “Your mother was aware… lets say she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea, and she let the Alpha know. So other arrangements had to be made.”

  This is unexpected news!

  “The Prince wanted to marry me? And mother declined? But… Glimmer. He looked so… content.”

  “Well, of course he was content, him and Glimmer became good friends and even got infatuated with each other. But being content is not the same as being in love, and while the Prince and Lady Glimmer were sweet on each other…” Delly stays quiet for a bit, “He was going to demand the execution of your tribesman, Hawthorne, you know.

  “Hawthorne’s arrow pierced the Alpha’s hind leg and nearly took his life. It’s still not clear who was responsible for Lady Glimmer’s demise, but she took a spear for a former lover of hers before she was engaged to Peeta, some lower tier wolf named Marvel. The prince was in a very dark place when your father found his patrol while seeking the Alpha.

  “Peeta’s ashamed to admit that only that encounter with you, when you came between him and the Chief calmed him enough to see that revenge would not bring him any sort of relief. But he was still too enraged and hurt to let it go, so he demanded a bride, instead of Hawthorne’s life. He’s regretted the way he acted ever since.”

  “He could’ve come and retracted his deal!” I snap.

  “Then we would’ve been back on war’s doorstep. It wasn’t an option until he had a chance to see you again, and coming to your territory was forbidden by your tribe’s elders once we left.”

  I breathe in harshly. “All the same. He could have said something.”

  “You can still refuse to marry him.” She offers.

  I balk. I’m not sure why, but I can’t go back on my word now, so I shake my head stubbornly. “It’s not an option either.”

  —————-

  I don’t sleep a wink all night, so my aunt, Effie, tries to hide the purple bags under my eyes with every berry dye she can find matching my skin tone, while lecturing me about the importance of a good night’s rest, as if I’m not aware I look like death warmed over.

  The dinner the evening before was quiet and just a bit awkward. Conversation didn’t come very easy to me after the talk with Delly, but I’ve never been the conversational type anyway. Peeta kept staring at me all night in what I think he believed were inconspicuous glances, but his eyes were never fast flitting away the times I caught him looking.

  He kissed the top of my hand before leaving for the night, making the flock of birds in my stomach go berserk. There was barely room enough for so many wings flapping around in my belly, and then, the beds were too soft. Back home we sleep on 2 inch deep bedrolls on pelts over the floor. It’s firm, and at times uncomfortable, but it’s what I’m used to.

  Here, everything was stuffed with down: Hot, too soft, down. I never thought I’d complain about my pillows being too soft, but here I am.

  Prim is in awe at all the houses and green areas between. She’s already planning on starting a garden back home, somewhere around the well or something. She did give me good news about Lady, her nanny goat, turning up yesterday afternoon and with a billy goat in tow.

  One less thing to worry about.

  “Come, come, Katniss. Today is a big, big, big day for all of us, and time is running out. We still need to fix your hair—“

  “I say. Her hair could’ve use some moisturizer days ago.” Says a voice I wish to never hear again for the rest of my life.

  “Oh for the love of Father Sun! Who let you in, Alma? Please, go back to the guests section. This is only for immediate family!”

  I’ve never heard Effie sound so crossed… and impolite. I’m in awe!

  Alma looks absolutely murderous, but she knows Effie is right. “I just came to wish the… Princess, a happy wedding day. Nothing else.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Now, please, if you don’t mind, Aunt Effie is right, this place is for my immediate family only.” Our eyes meet for a moment, and I can feel the venom in her gaze.

  She hates me, and if she had any power at all, I’m sure she’d use it to start her own war against me. I just hope Gale learned his lesson, because I won’t hesitate in shooting the old hag next time I have her in my crosshairs.

  “The gall!” Effie snorts, but soon she’s too invested brushing my hair to perfection, that mother and Prim have to pry her off my poor scalp when is time to join my groom in front of his people outside.

  If Peeta looked nervous yesterday when he came to collect me, today he’s the picture of confidence. He smiles politely at the guests, and waves greetings to everyone. He has an animated conversation with Haymitch and Dalton, and keeps tipping a bottle of white liquor into Haymitch’s cup. Must be the reason the old man is looking so glad.

  My mother takes me aside and gives me the most uncomfortable talk ever, about my duties as a new wife. I beg her to stop, or I’ll never be able to look at my groom in the face the rest of my life.

  Then, my father takes my hand and mutely walks me towards the prince. His hand squeezes mine tightly, more and more the closer we come to Peeta. Once he offers my hand to my soon to be husband, it takes an awkward second for him to fully let go.

  “Sir, I swear I’ll take care of her with my life. I give you my word. So help me Father Sun, she will be the happiest, most loved woman in my domain.”

  “I’ll hold you to that vow, son.” Rasps my father, giving me one last squeeze. “I love you, Katniss. It’s an honor, having you as my daughter.”

  “Oh, Father.” I choke back a sob, “the honor is mine!” I hug him and kiss his cheek, and then I let Peeta pull me away to face Alpha Mellark.

  The ceremony is short and simple. The Alpha speaks of our bonds and our alliance. He speaks of honor and love, and then gives us a blessing on behalf of Father Sun and Mother Moon. Peeta kisses my forehead and a feast sprouts seemingly out of nowhere.

  There’s so much food and drink, I have to ask, “Shouldn’t we save all this for the winter months?” I whisper into Peeta’s ear.

  He smiles at me. “Don’t worry, my lady. This is a joint effort, and both our peoples contributed equally to it. If something is leftover, we will divide it and give back to the people to take home and feast later on.”

  “Alright, if you say so.”

  Peeta takes my hand, and looks into my eyes. “I assure you, everything is accounted for, and nothing will go to waste.”

  I nod.

  “Katniss,” He says after a moment of silence, “Could I ask you to dance with me?”

  The question takes me by surprise, because I’m his wife now; he can take me dancing whenever he wants, but it’s the shyness in his voice and the way his eyes blink, I find it endearing.

  “It’s our wedding. I think it would be a complete travesty if we didn’t dance.” I tell him smirking.

  He chuckles in response.

  I’m getting addicted to the sound of his laugh to be honest, so when he offers me his elbow, I take it without hesitation and follow him to the middle of the square where our wedding took place, and wait until the few musicians playing the fiddles and flutes start a lively ditty and then we spin, hop, and twirl to the effervescent rhythm.

  Peeta is not bad, and while I’m only used to Prim as my dance partner, we do pretty well for our first time on the dance floor.

  The night sneaks up on us dancing. Once we started, we didn’t stop. I had so much fun with the Prince, I forgot why we were here to begin with, so it was a bit of a let down and an eye opener, when my father approached me and wished me a good night.

  Father assured me they would set up tents by the river to sleep tonight and cross the waters in the morning, so I could come see them out. It was little consolation, but it does take my worry away, knowing they won’t be risking the river at night, when visibility is limited and anything could happen.

  I stand staring at my family and tribe walk towards the river, and Peeta joins me with a coat he drapes over my shoulders. I’m grateful when I realize it’s my father’s old hunting jacket, the one I hid at the bottom of my game bag, which tells me he found my deerskin trousers and my moccasin boots, yet he doesn’t seem to mind them.

  “We will see them in the morning,” He says quietly. “But you must be exhausted. Let me take you home.” He proposes hopefully.

  “Okay.” I give him my hand to hold, and it seems it was the right response, because he’s beaming brighter than the moon above us.

  We say our good nights to the Alpha, and go on to our new place, the cabin next to the big house where the Alpha lives with Delly.

  “I took the liberty of unpacking your things with your mother’s help,” Delly whispers while hugging me. “Your mother left you a little gift in the washroom.” The girl giggles. “Good luck!”

  Odair says something to Peeta, and then winks at me. A woman with long dark hair and a very pretty face smacks the Beta on the chest and frowns at him disapprovingly. Odair laughs and kisses the woman on the lips, and that’s when I notice the protruding bump the woman sports around the belly.  

  I can only assume I’m looking at Madam Beta and her unborn child. Who would’ve thought Finnick Odair was happily married?

  But the thought gives me pause.

  Peeta is my husband now, and he’s leading me to our new house, where there’s no doubt a too soft down bed waiting for us.

  I curse my mother’s timing with her talk about wifely duties. Now I’m all shaken and wondering if those strange dreams I used to have will come true now that I’m married to a werewolf. Would he want to have intercourse during the full moon while he’s not human?

  By the time we come to our front door, I can hardly breathe.

  “Here we are. Home!” Says Peeta turning to me with this wide smile that quickly falters. “Katniss, what’s wrong?” He asks cupping my face into his hands, a worried frown on his forehead.

  “I… I’ve never… I—“

  Peeta pushes the door open and scoops me up into his arms, much like yesterday, and brings me inside, to the tiny living area, where he deposits me on a chair and kneels before me.

  “Breathe, Sweetheart.” He tells me. “Do I need to fetch your mother?” He asks quietly.

  I shake my head, no, and try to calm myself down. “I’m sorry.” I finally get out. “I just panicked for a moment, because…” Again my words get stuck in my throat.

  Peeta’s eyes search me for a moment, and then something like understanding passes through his face. “Katniss, it’s alright if you need time to adapt. You weren’t planning on marrying me two weeks ago. This is all so new and unexpected for you. It’s fine to be apprehensive.”

  “I have duties to you.” I say in a small voice avoiding his eyes.

  “Your only duty is to tell me how can I help you make this transition more bearable for you. I’ll do anything you want. I’ve already told you that.” His voice is soft and his hands rub warmth into mine, until I can look into his eyes again. So blue, so sweet.

  “Gale kissed me when I was fifteen, after I boasted aloud I was never going to get married. He claimed he had to do that, at least once.” I’m not sure why I’m telling him all this, other than it’s the only thing I can think of right now. “I think he thought he’d change my mind by the time I was of age. I guess he never had a real chance once you came in the picture?” I give a strained laugh. “Also, I’ve been having these oddly erotic dreams about werewolves the past few months. I don’t know how to feel about them. I don’t normally remember the dreams when I wake up, but on my birthday, you licked me when you were a wolf, and I thought you were going to… you know… I’ve never been with a man, let alone a wolf, and I don’t think I want to sleep with you while you’re a wolf, so… there’s that—“

  “Whoa! Katniss, back up there.” He says taking my face again because I keep staring at my lap instead of him. “Sweetheart, that’s not how things will be between us. Not ever. I’ll be a wolf for a night every full moon, you’ll stay home under lock and key, and I will come back to you the next day, when I’m a man again.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel threatened during our encounter that night. It was nice introducing my wolf to the girl I’ve dreamed off for so long, and he rather liked you too, enough to let me take control of my mind over my killer instincts. But Katniss, my wolf won’t ever have sex with you, unless you turn into a wolf yourself, and that’s something I will never ask of you. The process is painful and frightening.”

  “You’re being oddly understanding.” I blurt out. “Why? How are you so calm and collected?”

  “I’m not.” He says shrugging, then sits cross legged on the rug at my feet. “I’m actually freaking out because you just spilled your guts all over me, and now I feel like I should come clean to you too.”

  He eyes me from the corner of his eyes, before looking away.

  “I’ve been jealous of Gale even before officially meeting you. I knew your mother was hoping you’d marry him, because she was afraid of me coming to claim you and turn you into the mutt I am. I asked for her permission to talk to you at least once each year since you were eleven. I wanted to court you so badly, but your mother always said no. By the time you were sixteen, I had heard so many variants of why I should stay away from you, I was convinced you were better off without ever knowing me, so I dedicated all my attention to Glimmer instead.

  “Glimmer was a werewolf, she could be a wife and a good Madam Alpha, she was sweet when she wanted to be, but the prospect of her title started to go to her head. My infatuation with you was the worst kept secret among the pack, so I tried avoiding you and thinking of you when I got engaged to Glim. It was alright for a time, but then I would catch a whiff of your scent in the air, and I’d be drawn to it like flies to flame. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I knew you were at the river doing your washing rituals that morning.”

  I stare at him incredulously. “So Gale was right to attack you?” I ask more sarcastically than actually angry.

  He shakes his head. “I never meant for things to go the way they did. I just wanted to see you for a second, then go on my way. But I forget your mother can sense other wolves, particularly me when you’re around.”

  “So she overreacted is what you’re saying? And this here mess is all your fault anyway?”

  He shrugs. “I usually just want to hear you sing, really. On days you’re out hunting I’ve tread as close to you as I could without being seen, and waited until you sing or hum a song, and then I’d scurry away when my heart was full again with the lovely music from your voice.” He falls silent. “It’s just ironic that an ill advised decision cost me my fiancée’s life and your mother’s overreacting ended with you married to me. Both of our worst fears became true, just because we couldn’t dial down our impulses.”

  “You like my singing?” Is all I can think to ask.

  He smiles to his boots. “I adore your singing. It’s my favorite thing in this world followed by watching a beautiful sunset.”

  “When did you hear me singing?” I roll my eyes at myself, since he just confessed he’s been stalking me while I sang in the woods. “Where have you heard me singing?”

  Peeta looks at me. “The first time, you were around five years old. You were singing The Valley Song to a group of children by the river. Then, every time the Chief took you hunting, he’d start a song and then you’d chirp it away and I swear every bird around would fall silent to hear you both singing.” He clears his voice. “It’s the first thing your mother fell in love with, after meeting your father, you know. His singing voice. Then after I heard yours, I knew, just like your mother, I was a goner.”

  “You’re making this up. You can’t possibly have liked me all those years.”

  “Oh no, it’s a true story.”

  “But… why never say hi? Why listen to my mother? You could’ve just show up and when I was alone, you know. That whole thing you did on my birthday, demanding a wife. That would’ve worked too without all the drama.” I wave my hand vaguely at him, but he winces.

  I’m about to apologize convinced that I’ve offended him, but he shakes his head.

  “That was so wrong of me, Katniss. I shouldn’t have forced you into this marriage like that. I twisted your arm. Heck, I twisted everyone’s arms. I’m sorry.”

  I risk touching his cheek, startling him. His eyes widened, looking up at me.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just… be a good husband and keep to your promise of peace, and we will be fine.”

  “I will do that. For you.” He takes my hand and presses a kiss to the top.

  My reaction is instantaneous. A low heat burns my loins, every nerve-end fires up, and my lips suddenly feel dry and needy.

  “We should get ready for bed.” I say without thinking of the implications.

  He nods, but I catch the way his pupil contracts to a point, before expanding back to normal. “I’ll show you to the bedroom. I can take a bedroll out here if you want me to.”

  I don’t say anything to that. I’m not sure what I want, not until I’m in the small bathroom and see that gift my mother left behind for me. It’s a delicate nightgown I’ve seen her in a handful of times. I know it’s one of her favorites from where she lived here with the pack. It has lace on the top and very low neckline that most likely will leave half of my chest exposed, and the rest is a gossamer material that feels like nothing to the touch.

  I put it on, and feel beautiful in it. Beautiful enough to ask a boy to follow me into bed.

  I unbraid my hair and finger comb it because it feels like the right thing to do, and then wash my face in the basin. I pat my skin dry and look at my reflection in the mirror by the basin. My cheeks are a nice rosy color, whether from the sun or my own blood pooling on my cheeks, I’m not sure, but I think it looks rather appealing, and I cross my fingers, hoping Peeta thinks so too.

  I come out of the washroom, pushing down my nervousness by twirling a lock of hair around my fingers. “Peeta?” I call him softly.

  “Is the bathroom available—?” I hear his breath hitch as soon as he turns from the bedroll his unfurling on the floor and his eyes land on me.

  His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat and find it mesmerizing. His mouth is open, but no sounds come from it for a while, so I dig around for some courage and speak before he can regain his voice.

  “Come to bed with me?”

  All he does is nod curtly and abandons his bedroll where it is, taking my hand in his, and although I delivered the invitation, he’s the one leading the way.

  “We don’t… have to do anything—“ he starts, but I cut him off.

  “I’ve never done anything, other than kissing Gale, and even then, I didn’t do anything. I just stood there perplexed it was even happening.”

  “I— you’ve already mentioned. That.” He swallows while his eyes rove over my face. “I won’t do anything without your express permission.”

  “Have you?” I ask out of the blue. “Have you done this before?”

  His lips thin out for a second, I’m in the middle of telling him that never mind, he doesn’t have to tell me, when he nods. And now I’m both ashamed of myself for asking such a question right now, and vexed that he’s actually slept around when he’s supposedly been holding a torch for me all this time.

  I’m scowling, and I’m not thinking straight, but my mouth is running before I can stop myself, “How many? When?”

  Peeta blinks at me and arches an eyebrow. “You really want me to answer that?” He asks with an edge if amusement in his voice.

  “No! Of course not! Why would I want to know that?”

  “Well, for starters… you asked. But as long as you’re sure.”

  “I am sure! And I demand you stop thinking of them right this second. You’re a married man now!”

  He smirks at that, but has the good sense to turn away from me so I don’t have to see his smug face.

  I keep forgetting he’s got this speed thing about himself, because after a minute of silence, he’s suddenly right in my face, breathing heavily and ghosting his fingers on my cheeks.

  “I never pegged you for the jealous type.” He murmurs so close to me, all I’d need to do is lift on my tiptoes and our lips would be touching. “I think I like it.”

  “You never kissed your bride today. What kind of groom are you?”

  “That can be fixed, my lady. With your permission…”

  “Stop asking, and do it already!”

  “As you wish.”

  Then his lips are on mine, and his hand is cradling my neck, the other one lands on my waist, just as my own rest on his chest. The sensation is new and exciting, and soon I need air; I push him away from me just an inch, and breathe in mouthfuls until my lungs hurt.

  “How was that, my lady?” He doesn’t sound any better than I am, so I count it as a victory.

  “Good… for a start. Show me more, sir.”

  “Gladly!”

  This time when he dives in, he doesn’t hold back. He tilts my head to one side and the tip of his tongue caresses my lower lip until my mouth opens up to his, and then he’s plundering me hungrily. His arms hold me tightly against him. My chest is pressed to his, and I think to myself how nice it feels to be this close to him.

  “Katniss, you’re a vision in this,” he mumbles against my jaw, bunching up my nightgown in his hand. “But, can we take it off?”

  I moan softly, nodding my head unable to answer with words.

  “Thank you,” he grinds the words into my throat, just a his hand slides down my shoulder, taking with it the strap of the gown down my arm. His lips follow his hand, and then he’s licking the same spot he did as a wolf, only this time his tongue feels much smaller and softer.

  He repeats the action on the other shoulder, until the material falls down my body, to pool at my feet. There’s a vague notion on the back of my mind, telling me I should feel some kind of shame about all this. But my mind is turning to mush the longer Peeta kisses my skin, and then nothing else matters, until his hand finds my ribcage, and his thumb swipes the underside of my breast.

  I moan, and all my brain can comprehend is that I need his hands on my chest, now!

  “Touch me, Peeta.” I breathe out to the ceiling.

  His mouth is attached to my collarbone, and he sucks the spot when my own hand takes his and directs it to my breast. He palms me softly for a moment, tentatively kneading the mound under his warm palm, and then his lips are closing around my nipple.

  I gasp, and my hands go to his hair. Is the softest thing I’ve ever felt! I reminds me of soft fur, and somehow I know I’ll recognize this texture anywhere for the rest of my life. A thought makes its home into my mind: ‘my mate’.

  Peeta’s hands fall off my body, and I hear the rustling of fabrics, buttons being pulled from buttonholes, and boots being toe off feet. He’s wrestling himself out of his clothes, and all I can feel is thrilled.

  His mouth gets forced to let go of my nipple once he starts hopping on one foot trying to get his socks off. He makes quick work of it, though, and before I can react, he’s once again picking me up in his strong arms, and carrying me to the bed. He kisses my lips gently, and stands up to slip out of his undergarments. I’m already as naked as the day I was born, and his hungry eyes drink me in with fully dilated pupils, that cover his irises almost whole.

  “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve set eyes upon,” he grunts staring directly at the patch of hair between my legs. He licks his lips then, and that’s when self awareness hits me.

  I try to cover up with my hands, but he begs me to let him see. I can’t deny him even that, instead, my legs bend upwards, until my feet are planted on the mattress, and my thighs fall open, giving him unobstructed view of my most private place.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers, kneeling between my knees. He looks up at my face then, “My lady, may kiss your sex?”

  “Oh. Is that… allowed?” I ask leaning up on my elbows so I can see his face better.

  He smiles with puffy, reddened lips. “Oh yes. It’s allowed. Specially if you say it is.”

  “Then go ahead, sir. Show me.”

  He gives me a breathtaking smile before diving between my thighs. He proceeds to make out with my labia, the whole time his blown out pupils staring into my eyes.

  I’m making all kinds of noises I never knew I could produce, and finally, one of my arms can’t take it any longer, and my hand reaches out for his blond locks. My pelvis is grounding against his mouth purely on instinct, but I think he’s enjoying this as much as I am. His tongue stops licking and plunging in and out of my hidden crevice, just to find a spot at the cleft of thighs that causes me to arch off the mattress and cry out his name loudly.

  He’s like a puppy with a bone. His fingers replace his tongue in my opening, stretching me to the max, while sucking hard on the spot he’d just found until I’m thrashing uncontrollably on the bed. My legs twist around his upper body, until he has to force my thighs down with his forearms.

  A sensation unlike anything I’ve ever experienced rips through me. I scream and moan; I claw at his shoulders, and fist the sheets in one hand. I can barely keep my eyes open while convulsing under him, yet every time I manage to look at him, his eyes are trained on mine, on my face. I finally give one last gasp and fall to the mattress, spent and short of breath.

  Once I can breathe normally, Peeta climbs up from between my legs; his smile is big and self satisfied.

  “You look pleased with yourself.” I rasp out.

  This only makes his smile widened. “I am. I just made my wife glow, more radiant than the sun. Such a wild thing to behold, a mutt making a Mockingjay sing so loud and beautifully. Why the mutt can’t help but to love his song bird.”

  I bite my lower lip, and study his face.

  He’s so handsome, and his clean shaved mug is glistening with so much of my juices, I feel the urge to lick his chin clean.

  “Did you enjoy doing that, husband?” I ask him, feeling a thrill at the words.

  “Immensely! In fact, I can’t wait to do it again, because you, my beautiful wife, taste delicious. And the noises you make… well, there are other things I can’t wait to do even more.” He says wiping off his face on the bed linens.

  “Like what?” I ask turning on my side, and immediately regretting it, since the mess between my thighs has gone cold and drips beneath me.

  Peeta’s lips twitch, a deep blush covers his muscular, naked chest, which reminds me he’s nude, next to me, in bed, where I’m completely bare as well.

  I groan internally at my brain. The traitor picks the worst possible times to bring up embarrassing thoughts.

  But my curiosity wins, and my eyes dip lower down his body, to the big, painfully erect member, bowing to me every so often. The bulbous head of his penis it’s a screaming pink, and for reasons I can’t fathom, I have this urge to kiss it. Lick it even. Wrap my lips around it and, “Can I taste you now?” The words escape my mouth before I can think them through.

  “Another time, my pet. I don’t think I could keep myself from spilling my release down your throat, and I doubt knotting in your mouth would be safe for you anyway.”

  I know by the way his lips quiver at the corners, he’s trying to go for levity, but I’m not sure what he means, so I ask ignoring the feeling of inadequacy at my inexperience.

  “What does that mean, when you mention a knotting?”

  “Oh.” He scrunches up his face in thought. “I guess you wouldn’t know about that, even if you weren’t a virgin.” He says it nervously, trailing a finger up and down the valley of my breasts. “You see, once you let me put my… ‘member’, into you,” he gestures to his bobbing erection, “my body will act closer to a wolf, than a man.”

  “Oh. I thought you said—“

  He lifts a hand to stop me. “I did.” He confirms. “And I won’t have sex with you while in wolf form.” He says. “But I’m still a werewolf, Kitten. When I finally join with my true mate, my penis will swell a couple of sizes bigger, until our bodies are physically sealed together. It will take at least an hour before things go back to normal, unless I keep orgasming, and that part depends on how still you can stay while we’re knotted. I doubt I will be able to hold back once we start.”

  “You’re going to grow. Inside me. More? But, you’re already gigantic! Will you even fit inside me now?” I glare at him, “Mister, if you’re looking to deflower me tonight, those were the worst possible bits of information to share.”

  Peeta laughs loudly, and before I know it, he’s tipped my body onto my back and he’s crawling on top of me, devouring my mouth.

  “Katniss, I’m falling in love with your fiery personality,” he says nuzzling his nose against my ear. “I can hardly hold back, and you keep stoking my need for you. Please let me have you.” He begs into my neck.

  “Claim me then. I’m yours already.” I gasp out.

  “Thank you ma’am.” He says rubbing his length between my folds, coating his flesh with my arousal.

  But then he’s twisting our bodies around, so my back is flushed against his chest, and his arms can reach all over my nakedness.

  “I apologize, my lady, but wolves prefer this position when mating with their significant others. I’ve never done this with a pure woman, but I’ve heard the first time can be uncomfortable, Sweetheart. I’ll try my best to be gentle. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it better for you.” He whispers in my ear, kissing the nape of my neck, caressing my breasts with one hand, and draping my knee over his thigh with the other.

  I feel so open and exposed. But his fingers pump in and out of me, getting me ready for himself, and I just tip my head back and give myself to sensation.

  “Thank you for giving me the honor of becoming your husband, Katniss. I swear to you, right here, right now, I’ll devote my life to loving you, take care of you, share in your sadness and your joys, and to be your friend and your lover until Mother Moon calls me back to her.”

  He takes hold of himself and pushes into me slowly. He groans and I gasp at his sheer size. It feels like he’s pushing all the air out of my lungs with every inch he climbs inside my body.

  “Fuck, Kitten.” He grunts into the skin under my ear. “You’re feel so much better than I could ever imagine. And fuck, have I imagined sinking into you like this, over and over since puberty.”

  The use of such profane language startles me at first, because wolves are known for always being so polite, but then I figure that curses are permissible during coitus, and the coarse language in Peeta’s mouth fit somehow.

  He groans and sucks on my flesh for a moment. My head is spinning with sensations, the pressure eases and to my delight the pain of being penetrated for the first time never registers, only an all consuming need that makes slicker between the legs.

  Peeta bites down on my earlobe, as he move within me, his words falling freely, punctuated by one of his powerful thrusts.

  “Your pussy is so tight, Kitten. You hug my cock just right. I knew you would. I knew I would never tire of your scent and your taste since the moment I first licked your skin as a wolf. You’re intoxicating, Sweetheart. I’ve been going mad with want ever since that day my wolf met you. Sometimes I feel like I’m a sick, perverted wolf, daydreaming of this, of you, wrapped around me, looking so damn beautiful.”

  Alright, Peeta whispering filth into my ear is even sexier than those crazy dreams I used to have. When his hands start rubbing that magical spot from before, I know he owns me.

  “Oh, Peeta, my husband. My mate. I’m yours!”

  It will only take a handful of swipes of his fingers on that knob, along the fullness I feel when pushes inside me to bring me back to orgasm. My arms flail behind my back, until my hands find purchase on his shoulders and hair. My head is pillowed on his thick arm, and I tilt it enough to capture his lips with mine.

  I can feel his movements become more erratic, less fluid. There’s a friction making the coil tighten in my belly again, faster than before, and his aptly named cock does feel like is swelling inside me. And all restraint breaks loose.

  “Can I mark you, Kitten? Can I make you my one true mate?” He gasps breathlessly into my ear.

  “I… how? I thought this was it.”

  “A bite. It takes a bite. Then you’ll be mine for life.”

  That doesn’t sound so bad, a bite for a lifetime of feeling this way. I nod my sweaty head eagerly, I figure I’m already his anyway. “Do it.”

  He breathes deeply, and I know he’s not completely human, although one glance at his body shows me a man, not a wolf.

  “Thank you, my lady. I swear you’ll be my whole life from this moment forward.”

  I gasp and shiver at the darkness of his voice, so much deeper and raspier than his normal tone. And then I feel a needle like object tracing my shoulder blade, until it prickles the base of my neck.

  “Katniss Everdeen, you belong to me, and I belong to you.”

  His sharp canines sink into my flesh, triggering a third climax, leaving me breathless and dizzy. My legs tremble but Peeta keeps me wide open pumping into me erratically. His fingers keep a frantic pace on my clitoris.

  “No more,” I beg, trying to move Peeta’s hand away from my center.

  “One more. Please, Kitten. Give me one more, and then you can rest.” He almost sobs into my hair. “I’m begging you, sweetie. Just one more. I’ll leave be after.”

I give in. I look into his eyes with my head tipped back as far as it can go. He kisses my lips sweetly, and starts nudging his hips against mine with what feels like great effort, while his pointer and middle fingers glide over the kernel of sensations, and coaxes one more orgasm out of me.

  We are both crying out our ecstasy into each other’s mouths. His free hand is cradling my face gently, which is surprising, since every other body muscle is tightly tense. The spot where his teeth bit me feels warm and tender, I vaguely think of tetanus for some reason, but my brain gives the thought up quickly.

  “You’re wonderful, Sweetheart.” He mumbles into my mouth. “I love you.”

  I try to respond, but I feel like a puddle of goo, all I can do I accept his kisses and try to breathe as normally as I can.

  After a while, Peeta brushes away the hair off my face. “Are you asleep?” He asks quietly.

  “Mmmm.” I answer, not moving a muscle. I can’t, I’m impale with the biggest, fattest rod possible and I’m afraid that if I move I’ll start convulsing again.

  “Kitten? After you rest, would you do me a last honor?” He sounds hopeful, and he’s scratching my scalp, which feels really nice.

  “Mmm?”

  “Will you toast with me?” He asks.

  The question washes away my fatigue… partly. I crack open an eye, and see his face hovering over mine.

  “Is just that I heard how toasting are important for your people, and I wanted to observe your traditions and culture too, so I baked a especial loaf yesterday just for you and—“

  His eyes are so blue and guileless, I have to kiss his mouth to stop his little rant.

  “I love you too, Peeta.” I mumble against his lips. “Of course I’ll toast with you.”

  I can’t keep my eyes open for the life of me after that, but it’s alright, I can’t go anywhere while we’re knotted, and honestly, I’m exactly where I want to be.

  ————

  “The Mockingjay is a spirit warrior who leads rebellions with her song against tyrannical oppressors. Her voice speaks true, and her heart is valiant—“

  “I think you missed your calling, sir. I think your true vocation is that of a bard, or a troubadour even.” I interrupt Peeta’s winded monologue to my distended stomach, while carding my fingers through his hair lazily.

  He puts his big, warm hands on my belly and kisses my belly button. “Don’t listen to mommy. She has no idea what she’s talking about. Why if I was a bard, instead of a baker, I wouldn’t be able to stuff her pretty mouth with cheese buns.”

  I purse my lips thinking about it. “Mmm. You’re right. I am very fond of cheese buns, and bards don’t usually make any money between recitals.” I run my fingers through his soft, blonde curls, and the baby kicks happily in my stomach.

  “I see you’re both in cahoots!” Peeta exclaims planting another kiss on my belly.

  I laugh caressing the spot he just kissed, stretching my legs on the bed. “Less talking, more baking!” I call loudly when he gets up and walks away.

  It’s been a year since we married, and things have changed to the better. Our people entered a new era of peace and mutual friendship. Gale even found a wife from the Pack, a sweet, soft spoken girl by the name of Madge. She, like my mother was born without the wolf gene, preventing her from transforming, but Madge’s quiet demeanor has softened Gale greatly.

  Alma, we found out was Alpha Snow’s secret lover, and never got over the heartbreak of his overthrowing and subsequent execution, despite the horrible way he’d always treated her as a mate. They never produced offsprings, because Alma was barren. She felt so much resentment towards my father and the Mellarks, she was able to influence Gale into believing the Pack was out to get us, and my father was a soft ruler that couldn’t take action when needed. When Gale turned his back on her, she finally snapped and let the currents of the river take her under.

  Things between me and Peeta were trial and error the first few weeks. Some days Peeta would be so overcome with guilt and grief over Glimmer and how fast he ‘forgot’ about her, that he could hardly look at me. Then other days, I’d be so homesick I burrowed down into the covers of our bed, and wouldn’t come out until he forced me out to eat, bathe and see my family.

  On our hardest days, we tried to be strong for the other and little by little, we learned to trust and find solace in one another.

  We became best friends too, which is a blessing on its own. And then we found out I was pregnant with our first child.

  The Alpha has been hinting that after the baby is born, he will step down and leave Peeta as his heir to rule over the pack. He claims to be getting to old. Finnick and his wife, Annie, will still serve as Betas for us, since they are strong and very well liked.

  My father has decided that Gale needs more time to mature before taking the chiefdom, and for once, Gale agrees.

  Prim has grown into a beautiful young lady, and there’s a wolf whose eyes follow her very move, until my mother frowns at him, I hope she doesn’t intervene and cause another bout of conflicts, but only time will tell. For now, I’m waiting in bed for my cheese buns, trying to not let on that I’m having contractions.

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 24 June 2019

Quick Bits:

Action Comics #1012 keeps a number of plates spinning with the Invisible Mafia, Leviathan, and tying in events in Superman, while bringing back a character who we’ve not seen for some time in the DCU. Some great layouts and art from Szymon Kudranski and Brad Anderson.

| Published by DC Comics

Age of X-Man: X-Tremists #5 is the explosive conclusion to this mini from Leah Williams, Georges Jeanty, Roberto Poggi, Jim Charalampidis, and Clayton Cowles. We get Jubilee’s perspective on the end, as they all collectively remember what came before, what was taken from them, and the nightmare that they’ve been placed in and forced to participate. Damn good stuff.

| Published by Marvel

Amazing Spider-Man #24 is a lot of Peter avoiding dealing with things in a rational adult manner and some weird stuff with Mysterio and the new villain who has been haunting the series for a while. My guess is that it’s Ned Leeds, but his true identity is still hidden for the moment. Pretty good for a buffer issue.

| Published by Marvel

Angel #2 is another entertaining issue from Bryan Edward Hill, Gleb Melnikov, Gabriel Cassata, and Ed Dukeshire. There’s another nice split as we see a bit of Angel’s past as he reforges a slayer as his “axe” and then a dive into the current evil plaguing the kids in social media. Wonderful reveal of Lilith’s “true form” as well, great design by Melnikov.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Ascender #3 is harrowing and breathtaking. While Andy and Mila try to run in the present, we get more information on what happened with them and Effie in the time between Descender and now. Gorgeous, stunning artwork from Dustin Nguyen.

| Published by Image

Bad Luck Chuck #4 concludes what has been a fun, but weird, series from Lela Gwenn, Matthew Dow Smith, Kelly Fitzpatrick, and Frank Cvetkovic. And it ends with a pretty epic battle between cops and nuns.

| Published by Dark Horse

Black Panther #13 begins the next arc of “Two Thousand Suns” and T’Challa’s attempts to contact anyone back on Earth. Daniel Acuña returns to provide the art and it is beautiful. The effects as T’Challa attempts to calculate a communication path to Earth with the various planets and such are amazing.

| Published by Marvel

Detective Comics #1006 begins a new arc guest-starring the Spectre, with art from Kyle Hotz and David Baron. The Corrigan/Spectre joining sure works different than it used to. Interesting mystery with the Spectre cult and great art.

| Published by DC Comics

Ghost Tree #3 takes a few nice moments of quiet introspection and reflection from Brandt and Arami, as well as exploring more of Brandt’s grandparents life, before ramping up the tension with the demon. Beautiful artwork from Simon Gane, Ian Herring, and Becka Kinzie.

| Published by IDW

Justice League Dark #12 has huge ramifications as “Lords of Order” rages on. Stunning artwork from Alvaro Martínez Bueno, Raul Fernandez, and Brad Anderson. Also Tynion gives us a fascinating rumination on magic between Batman and Wonder Woman.

| Published by DC Comics

Killer Groove #2 continues this excellent crime drama. The little pieces of interaction and tiny character stories throughout this issue are wonderful. Ollie Masters’ approach to the narrative reminds me a lot of Robert Altman. 

| Published by AfterShock

Road of Bones #2 leans hard into the brutal survival aspect of travelling across Russia in winter, without much idea or sense of where you’re going. Wonderful art from Alex Cormack.

| Published by IDW

The Silencer #18 concludes this series with a kind of stock-taking story from Dan Abnett, V. Ken Marion, Sandu Florea, Mike Spicer, and Tom Napolitano. There’s some bits about the reconciliation between Blake and Honor, but a large portion of this is Honor trying to find out information on what’s happening with Leviathan. 

| Published by DC Comics

Stranger Things: Six #2 continues to flesh out the time before the first season at Hawkins Labs as we continue to follow Francine through her past and experiences there. There’s a wonderful feeling of dread with the glimpses of the Upside Down.

| Published by Dark Horse

Thor #14 builds on events in War of the Realms #6 with a story that is concurrent with what happens in that book diving into the younger Thor’s perspective. Great art from Scott Hepburn and Matthew Wilson.

| Published by Marvel

Transformers/Ghostbusters #1 is a great debut from Erik Burnham, Dan Schoening, Luis Antonio Delgado, and Tom B. Long beautifully integrating the two properties here. Cybertron as destroyed by Gozer is just wonderful, and there’s a nice bit of humour that fits well with Burnham and Schoening’s other Ghostbusters work.

| Published by IDW

War of the Realms #6 is the conclusion to this event with Jason Aaron, Russell Dauterman, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Sabino giving us a “storm of Thors”. It’s fairly epic as Thor and Malekith meet in the final confrontation, capping off one of the longest narrative arcs in Marvel that began back in Thor: God of Thunder #1 years ago. There’s more to come, but this is a very satisfying end.

| Published by Marvel

The Weatherman #1 is a welcome return for the second volume of this series from Jody LeHeup, Nathan Fox, Moreno Dinisio, and Steve Wands. The story shifts as the team search for the clue to unlocking Bright’s memories on the one place we thought previously was all dead...Earth. Great stuff.

| Published by Image

Wolverine: Exit Wounds #1 is another of Marvel’s 80th Anniversary one-shots, this one presenting three stories from some of the luminary creators that have worked on Wolverine before. The standout for me is the Wolverine/Venom story from Sam Kieth and Ronda Pattison. It’s a simple Vs. story, but the artwork is gorgeous. Larry Hama, Scot Eaton, Sean Parsons, and Matt Milla & Chris Claremont, Salvador Larroca, and Val Staples provide the other two stories giving a glimpse into other stages in Logan’s past. Joe Sabino provides letters for all three stories and it’s nice to see how he adapts for the tone and style of each tale.

| Published by Marvel

Wonder Woman #73 is a fill-in from Steve Orlando, Aaron Lopresti, Matt Ryan, Romulo Fajardo Jr., and Pat Brosseau giving us a story of Diana’s past in an alternate reality. It’s a decent tale on its own, giving a hint at something important for the ongoing story.

| Published by DC Comics

Other Highlights: Avengers #20, Battlestar Galactica: Twilight Command #5, The Beauty #27, Bone Parish #10, Books of Magic #9, Canto #1, Conan the Barbarian #7, The Crow/Hack/Slash #1, Dark Red #4, Deadly Class #39, Diabolical Summer, Dial H for Hero #4, Dick Tracy Forever #3, Doctor Strange #15, Eve Stranger #2, Fantastic Four #11, Fight Club 3 #6, The Flash #73, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #8, GLOW #3, The Goon #3, Head Lopper #12, High Level #5, Invader Zim #44, Isola #8, Kick-Ass #15, KISS: The End #3, Magnificent Ms. Marvel #4, Major X #5, Marilyn Manor #1, Martian Manhunter #6, Marvel Comics Presents #6, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers #40, Mr. & Mrs. X #12, Punk Mambo #3, Punks Not Dead: London Calling #5, Redneck #21, Rick & Morty #51, Runaways #22, Spawn #298, Spider-Man Annual #1, Star Wars: Age of Rebellion - Darth Vader #1, Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge #3, Steel Cage #1, Stone Star #4, Summit #15, Superior Spider-Man #8, Teen Titans: Raven, Thanos #3, Thief of Thieves #43, War of the Realms: New Agents of Atlas #4, War of the Realms: The Punisher #3, War of the Realms: Uncanny X-Men #3, X-Men: Grand Design - X-Tinction #2

Recommended Collections: Breakneck, Coda - Volume 2, Fearscape - Volume 1, Hardcore - Volume 1, HP Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness - Volume 1, Interceptor - Volume 1, Joe Golem: Occult Detective - Volume 3: The Drowning City, Man of Steel, Old Lady Harley, Outcast - Book 3, Relay - Volume 1, Shock - Volume 2, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra - Volume 5: Worst Among Equals, Starjammers, Tony Stark: Iron Man - Volume 2: Stark Realities, Usagi Yojimbo - Volume 33: The Hidden, Wasted Space - Volume 1, West Coast Avengers - Volume 2: City of Evils

d. emerson eddy enjoys frozen cheesecake bites.

[summoner-kentauris]

WIP because i haev to run this for typos and make-sense-ness, as well as i have to add a snippet of dialogue from the new chapter in there so you know when it takes place, but ill do that all tomorrow when it goes on ao3. for now!

working title kiran causes an intergalatic incident

also i dont have my phone on me but iirc the new fafnir units have an accent on one of the letters

No one notices Kiran, at first. They fade into the background like the rest of the common folk seem to, at the gathering of these four titans. No one notices their trembling, their blank and wide eyes. The hunched tension bending their shoulders. The king doesn’t notice. The queen doesn’t notice. The royal siblings, with their backs to Kiran, certainly don’t notice. Perhaps its a trick of some magic that lingers on them, because no one notices that Kiran, with one locked and shaking arm, is pointing Breidablik at the center His Majesty’s forehead until one of his guard squeaks, and flares her massive fafnir wings as she bolts in front of him.

Other than that small noise echoing across the rigged plains, there is shocked silence.

And Kiran’s ragged, broken, uneven voice.

“Step – the fuck – away from him.”

The kingsguard draws weapons. The various Heroes draw forth their arms a split-second later. Anna curses, a rare occurrence, and she darts to Kiran’s side.

“Summoner,” she hisses. Kiran doesn’t blink. There’s no recognition in their eyes – none for Anna, at least.

“Kiran!” she repeats, urgently. She reaches for Kiran’s arm, and their finger slips closer to Breidablik’s trigger. Several bows draw tighter, on both sides. Alfonse is caught between the two of them, eyes as wide as Kiran’s. Sharena is being held back by her mother. Gustav is simply staring at the summoner, head tilted, and odd amused slant to his eyebrows.

“I said,” Kiran says, voice still tumultuous, eye still devoid, “step away from Alfonse.”

“Your majesty,” Anna says, “I don’t- this is-”

“Hush, commander,” he orders. “Summoner. You would draw weapons against a king?”

Kiran’s breath is even, but shallow, and fast.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” they say, without hesitation.

The fafnir at the front of the kings guard bursts into motion, and is shield-checked almost as quickly by Effie. The rest of the kingsguard is halted mid-movement by a small wave of Gustav’s hand. They settle, with nervous contained energy, back into their lines.

Some Heroes with Divine armaments make a point of tilting their metallic surfaces in the fading sunlight.

“Kiran,” Alfonse finally says, voice breaking, too.

“Stand,” Kiran orders Gustav, “aside.”

There is a moment’s pause while Gustav surveys the field. His army far outnumbers the Order, laughably so. The Heroes stand a little taller at this, hoisting swords and flicking the pages of tomes and cracking necks and knuckles accordingly. Fjorm raises Leiptr slightly. It’s not a number game, Anna thinks, worried. It’s godsdamned diplomacy.

She hopes.

After all, the number of royals and VIPs and legends on her side far outweighs the other.

And yet. Kiran still has not lowered their weapon. Their finger is curled tighter around it than she’s ever seen before.

The absurd thought that Kiran could – might actually assassinate the king of Askr right there, right in front of her, flashes across her mind.

Unseen tension dissipates from King Gustav’s form. As if reading his mind, his kingsguard stands down, too.

“Very well,” he says, and Anna can tell a great number of internal sighs are being had across the field. “Very well.”

Kiran doesn’t lower Breidablik, but their breathing does ease up, just a tad.

And Gustav and his retinue begin to walk away, and it could have all gone so well after that, but…

“Alfonse,” he says, pauses, turns back without walking back but looks back all the same. “Alfonse, please make sure they are brought to me when this is all finished.”

And maybe then it could have still be okay - okay-ish, Anna supposes, because, well, minds get changed and a war can be a long thing, but…

Alfonse looks back too, towards Kiran, who is still shaking and tracing Gustav’s path with Breidablik’s barrel. Their eyes are still deadwide. The tension is still loaded down on their shoulders, the pain of it radiant. And their voice has never once stopped being broken, and ragged, and uneven.

He looks back at Kiran, and notices all this, and then looks at Gustav, whose patient air is beginning to wear thin, and then back at Kiran.

And he looks at his own hands.

And he says, “No. No, I will do no such thing.”

And Gustav whirls, as he does, only this time Kiran is here and Kiran is still on a tight wire with a trigger finger that’s much too close, and the moment Gustav moves-

For the second time that day, all hell breaks loose.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday caloresblood!

We apologise for the delay with your gift @caloresblood. We hope you had a lovely birthday on 4th of March. To add further cheer to your day, the wonderful @savedbyyeezus has written a special Everlark story for you! Enjoy :)

A/N: So sorry for being late on this! Hope you had a great birthday and Oscar Sunday :)

The piercing shriek of the door charm whistled through the nearly empty loft, and Katniss grimaced at the shrillness of the unwelcome sonic interruption, signalling the arrival of her least favorite coworker. Or was it boss? Katniss didn’t know how to classify the annoying blonde exhibiting artist turned curator turned patron of the gallery that she, unfortunately, still worked at.

“Good morning, Kat! It’s another lovely day in Newww Yooorkkk Cityyy!” With a thwack of his ridiculously over-priced leather man purse on the table, a maniacally grinning Peeta turned to great Katniss, whose eyes were rolled so far back in her head that she could practically see her brain turning to mush. “Oh, KitKat, be careful those precious silver eyes of yours don’t get stuck back there.” Peeta smirked with mischievous pleasure. Katniss turned back to her computer with a sigh. It was just one of those days.

“Dearies! So glad you’re both here!” Both of their heads snapped around to glance at Effie, who had somehow managed to clatter in on her ridiculously high heels without alerting ether of them. “Rue Williams is coming today at 3 to close up shop today. Her show was a rousing success, thanks to you two, and she wants to thank you personally!” Effie was practically glowing with pleasure. “And by the end, I want a list of names from each of you for your top picks out of the applications we received for next year.” Peeta and Katniss shared an excited glance. Effie had been hoarding the applications from them for days, AND they were going to see Rue again, the fantastic artist they had been promoting and displaying in the gallery.

Four hours later, Katniss finally looked up from her laptop and exclaimed in panic. “Shit! It’s almost 3! Rue will be here soon!” She began frantically clearing up her workstation and organizing materials, mentally berating herself for getting so behind. Peeta just leaned back in his chair and smirked at her display: “Chill out, Katniss, it’s not like our jobs are on the line here.” Katniss rolled her eyes at the classic cavalier response from Peeta. “Yeah, it’s not your job on the line, Mr. Manipulator.” Peeta’s face hardened a little at that remark. Katniss growled under her breath: “I still don’t fucking understand how you managed to trick Effie into making you Head Curator after just having two...mediocre pieces in a show!” Instead of getting pissed, which was the reaction Katniss was hoping for, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away. “Let’s get started,” he replied curtly, finally standing up to start work.

“Knock, knock!” A cheery voice interrupted Katniss’ last minute organization and preparation. The two girls embraced warmly. Katniss was not normally one for hugs but Rue’s sweet and sisterly demeanor had wormed her way into her heart very quickly. She and Peeta greeted each other slightly more cordially with a handshake, but just as affectionately. “We’re gonna miss you around here, Rue,” said Peeta with a melancholy smile, to which Katniss gave a small frown. Peeta was always inserting himself where he didn’t belong, and encroaching on her limited time with Rue was just another offense on his long list of transgressions. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, he glanced at her displeased expression, and turned away with a huff.

As they were finishing cleaning and packing away Rue’s art, Katniss noticed that Rue was giving her a few contemplative looks every once and awhile. Eventually Peeta left to run an errand for the studio, and Rue finally burst out: “Okay, so what’s the deal with you two?” Katniss blinked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” Rue rolled her eyes: “I mean what is with all the passive aggressive comments hiding the sexual tension underneath?” Katniss flushed and gasped. “Oh you know it’s true! I thought you guys were getting along well last time?” Katniss sighed: “We were it’s just…he always has to get on my nerves! I just don’t even understand what he’s doing here or why he decided to stop doing art and work here!” Rue shook her head. “Sweetie, you have no idea, do you? The effect you can have on people?” Katniss blubbered: “Wha-what is that supposed to mean! You’re not suggesting he’s here for me, are you?”

“All I know, Katniss, is that at his gallery opening, he met a beautiful, intelligent, and commanding woman, who was passionate about this gallery, and motivated him to raise the money from his parents wealthy friends to save it. He still is making art by the way—it’s not a crime to want a steady paycheck in this line of work.” Katniss shook her head, overwhelmed at all the information. “But…his trust fund…”

“He doesn’t have it anymore, Katniss, it was contingent upon him taking over his family’s business since his older brothers all married and moved away. His parents don’t even talk to him anymore, which is probably why he hasn’t told you the truth.” Rue smirked. “And I think he would have preferred you change your undue attitude towards him for reasons other than pity.” Katniss was internally combusting. It was a lot to take in. All this time, Peeta had only wanted the best for her and the gallery, and she had treated him with disdain the entire time for something that wasn’t even true and that he didn��t choose anyways. “How-“

“Because I know what it’s like to fall under your spell, Everdeen.” Katniss clearly could not handle another shocking reveal, and Rue laughed at the panic and guilt welling in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I moved on, and Lavinia and I are very happy together. Now go and get your man, girl!” And Katniss couldn’t wait another second.

She practically flew down the stairs, and just as she hefted the enormous black door aside, she ran into a wall of solid flesh. “Oof, Katniss!” Peeta. It was Peeta. Katniss’ brain was muddled with confusion and the mounting attraction she had been suppressing all this time. She gazed helplessly up at his face, hoping he got the message. Understanding dawned in Peeta’s crystalline blue eyes (because he knew her that well, she realized): “Did Rue-“

Katniss interrupted his query with a passionate kiss, smashing her lips onto his and suctioning them wetly together. Peeta hesitated only momentarily before pressing her tightly to his body and moaning in her mouth. As he kissed down her neck, his fingers caressing her tight nipples, she hoisted up her skirt in invitation. “Oh God, Katniss, don’t you think we should—“

“It’s not too soon. It’s too late, actually. Five years late. So get going.” Katniss blurted out awkwardly and shoved his hand in her embarrassingly plain panties. Peeta grinned his mischievous grin, and pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t agree more, Kat.” She glowered at his use of her least favorite nickname, but soon her anger turned to lust as his handed melded her flesh into stardust, making her come apart almost effortlessly by strumming her clit. Panting and shaking in her release, she grabbed onto his forearms, while ignoring the wolf-whistles coming from the newly-arrived Rue at the top of the stairs, and began to whisper: “Okay, I’ll return the favor the moment we get off work.” Peeta couldn’t contain his smile, beaming luminously yet shyly at the disheveled girl in his arms: “How about I take you to dinner first and then we’ll see about that favor.” Katniss was nodding before he finished his sentence. “Does dollar slice sound good—“

“PEETA!” Katniss slapped his arms in pretend-annoyance, her twitching smile betraying her amusement. “I still fucking hate you.”

But nothing Katniss said could shake Peeta’s elation in that moment. “And I still fucking love you, Katniss."

[annychristine831]

Prime Gaming Reveals Top Free Games for September 2020

From the recent update, Twitch has revealed the September 2020 free games lineup for the “Prime Gaming.” The free prime games are available for those who have the “Amazon Prime Subscription.” Twitch has revealed September month’s free games that include – Autonauts, Outcast – Second Contact, Effie, Tiny Troopers: Joint Ops, and Pumped BMX Pro. September month is different and a special month because it is the first month of service since Amazon made a contract with Twitch. The service of the company is now offering the Twitch subscription free for a month along with Prime Video and Music for the better streaming experience. Amazon is focusing on the small tweaks and putting efforts on rebranding to attract more consumers around the world. However, no major changes have been made after the partnership between both companies.

Any Amazon Prime use can now claim these free games by linking their Twitch and Amazon accounts. Once they link the account, they have to download the Amazon Game Launcher to install the free game. However, if any user doesn’t have an Amazon Prime subscription, they can take the subscription separately that costs $12.99/month.

Among all the games for September, Outcast – Second Contract is at the top in the entire listing of free games. This version of the game is a remake of an open-world game named “Outcast” that was first released in 1999. In the following action role-playing game, players have to discover a mysterious alien world of “Adelphia.” Indeed the remake has been made after 20 years, but Outcast – Second Contact is still popular and has millions of fans around the world. On Steam, it earned up to 85% positive user score, which is a huge achievement for the game.

The “Curve Digital develops two new developed games of this month.” The first game is “Autonauts” where players have to build buildings, colonies, and entire towns. This simulation game starts with a few tools, but after putting efforts for hours, they can build huge factories, farms, and also spaceport. Players have to command some specific characters to complete the process of construction. The second game of Curve Digital is “Pumped BMX Pro.” You can understand the game by its name, where players have to show off their skills.

Effie the 3D adventure game is also available for free this month.  The gameplay and graphics of the game are impressive and inspired by the classic Nintendo 64 and Dreamcast platforms. Players will be able to explore the world in this game.

Tiny Troopers: Joint Ops is an addictive arcade FPS game. In the game, players have to control their troops to put waves on their enemies. Players can play it solo and with friends as well.

Conclusion

It’s the first month of free games after the partnership of Twitch and Amazon. However, now it will be interesting to see what Amazon will offer in the future. Amazon is looking to expand its business in gaming where Twitch already has a great subscriber base around the world.

I’m Anny. I’m a social media manager living in USA. I am a fan of technology, design, and music. I’m also interested in fitness and movies.

Source: Prime Gaming Reveals Top Free Games for September 2020

[heiwanoryu-archive]

RULES:  List five tropes applicable to your character, then tag others to do the same.(Tropes Wiki)  REPOST! DO NOT REBLOG.

Tagged by: No one; a friend linked it to me. Tagging:  YOU.

Badass Bookworm: The Avatar isn't on Robin's level of intelligence or tactical ingenuity, but they do read in their spare time, and while naïve, are far from stupid. By the end of each game, the Avatar will have bested in combat great generals, dangerous criminals, royalty, hulking monsters, shape shifters, reanimated soldiers, seasoned veterans, and depending on the route Garon's dragon form ("Birthright"), a slime monster, an empowered Takumi ("Conquest") and finally their true father, a dragon-god-king ("Revelation").

Badass Princess: The Female Avatar, as she's a part of the Nohrian royalty (and even though she was adopted from Hoshido, she was of royalty there too) and is far from helpless. Also, her initial class is called Nohr Princess.

Blade on a Stick: While the Avatar can't use lances by default without re-classing, it's revealed in the female Avatar's support with Shiro that she's skilled enough with a lance to give him a run for his money. Considering everything the Avatar knows about fighting comes from Xander, a Paladin, it's not surprising.

Blithe Spirit: The Avatar doesn't particularly care if others perceive them as weird when they help out—and thanks to their optimism and social ignorance, they often do come across as such. It's especially notable in Revelation, where they shock everyone by choosing neither side to make their own.

Bond Villain Stupidity: Invoked late in Conquest when they have Ryoma at their mercy. The Avatar tells Garon they should spare him to extend his suffering, although the real reason is because they actually don't want to kill him.

Character Development: All routes give the Avatar different development due to the circumstances in question. To wit:

In Birthright, they grow more and more furious over the atrocities committed by Nohr, but at the same time, becomes all the more resolute in their idealistic beliefs. By the end of the route, they still remain firmly believing in their idealism, but they're much stronger mentally from where they started.

In Conquest, they join Nohr with the noble - if somewhat naive - intention of changing Nohr from within, believing that the war can end quickly if they change Garon for the better. Sadly, it doesn't work out, and the Avatar soon realizes that the only way to save the continent from ruination while changing Nohr from the inside would be to go along with the plan to invade Hoshido. By the time the route reaches its climax, they go from a Wide-Eyed Idealist into somebody who reluctantly cast aside their own ideals in order to change the world for the better. It's to the point that when confronted by a possessed Takumi, the Avatar doesn't even bother to justify their actions and instead accepts Takumi's rage without a second thought.

In Revelation, they get a mix of their Birthright and Conquest development. They are no longer naïve to the happenings of the world and become confident in themselves, but are still kindhearted and optimistic to a fault.

Cultured Badass: The male Avatar isn't just a skilled warrior. He can play the piano, likes poetry, is well-versed in philosophy, and is even said to learn how to sing if he marries Azura. [ I apply this trope to the Female Avatar as well ]

Deadpan Snarker:  The Avatar dishes out their fair share of snark throughout the story.

Azura: Avatar! We have trouble! Nohrian forces are approaching! Avatar: Seriously? We haven't even been here five minutes...

Girly Bruiser: The Female Avatar comes across as this. She's as battle-hardened as her male counterpart, but her female-specific support with characters like Caeldori show that she enjoys girly things like romance novels.

Good Is Not Dumb: As nice and naïve as they are, the Avatar is not stupid. They clearly don't buy Garon's claims that he wasn't trying to kill them with the exploding sword on Conquest, and on Birthright they'll actually list the event as one of the reasons for their defection. In Revelation, they aren't fooled by Anthony's deception, pretend to go along with it and effectively out-gambit him, and later correctly deduce Scarlet's killer based off something only they would know.

Good Is Not Soft: They're no pushover, either. Before the route split, they stand their ground against Garon and, with their dragon powers, intimidate Hans into talking about his assassination attempt, and afterwards they prove they're willing to resort to threats if it can get the job done — even on the lighter route, Birthright.

Hurting Hero: During Conquest, the Avatar's supports with Azura reveal them to be this. To elaborate, they have recurring nightmares over the Hoshidans that have died as a result of their choice, and is having a crisis of morality over just how far the ends justify the means, even believing that they're going to Hell for what they've done. This doesn't stop them from pressing on, however.

Informed Deformity: If Peri is in the Hot Springs with a Female Avatar, she will comment that the latter's body is covered in scars - enough to make her giddy - though this isn't reflected by her character model. Of course, it's possible that they've just faded too much to see outside of very close inspection.

Innocently Insensitive: The Avatar was raised away from the world, and while kind-hearted, occasionally makes a comment or question that seems normal to them, but insults the other person.

Lethal Chef: Per the series' tradition with its Player Characters, the Avatar can't cook at all. They manage to burn tea in their supports with Jakob, and are implied to produce food that tastes like steel (they were taught to cook by Gunter, who can't cook either). This trait is a bit inconsistent with the female Avatar, who reveals herself to be a fairly skilled baker in her Support conversations with Dwyer.

Living Emotional Crutch: It's strongly implied that they are this for several characters.

Nice Guy:

Caeldori: You always put the needs of others before your own. Even when dangerous, you choose mercy, compassion, and kindness over all else.

No Social Skills: The Avatar is a fairly forward individual who sees nothing wrong with behavior others would label "unconventional", such as shouting in a public area. This can be chalked up to their reclusive childhood not giving them the chance to develop normal social skills. Despite this, they still manage to get along with people well enough.

Oblivious to Love: The male Avatar has around half a dozen ladies that can potentially be crushing on him, but he never notices until they flat-out tell him. Camilla and Rhajat drop some very obvious hints about being into him, Hinoka and Felicia have liked him for some time, and Sakura and Azura are implied to fall for him after meeting him for the first time. His failure to notice is Justified given his isolated upbringing and lack of real social interaction.  [ I apply this trope to the Female Avatar as well ]

The Pollyanna: Rain or shine, the Avatar is a perpetual optimist and is rarely in a bad mood. This trait endures throughout Birthright and Revelation (though in the latter, it gets somewhat tempered, due to the dire situation at hand since Anankos was seeking to destroy humanity), but gets utterly crushed in Conquest.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: Red to Azura's Blue. The Avatar isn't exactly hot-headed, but they do tend to make decisions based off their hearts instead of their heads, as well as being openly emotive.

Royalty Superpower: As a descendant of the First Dragons, and in fact the direct child of Anankos, they are able to use Dragon Vein, which will be inherited by any child they become a parent of.

Shared Family Quirks: Orochi states in her support with Ryoma that Mikoto was very fond of sweets just like the Avatar. The Avatar also inherits Anankos's apologetic attitude. Several characters such as Fuga note how the Avatar has the same personalty as their adopted father Sumeragi.

She-Fu: This normally-female trope actually applies to both genders. The Avatar might be the most acrobatic lord in the series; their fighting style incorporates many flips, graceful spins, jumping sword strikes, and rolls.

Skilled, but Naïve: The Avatar is well-known to be naïve despite their skill, as Rinkah and several others refer to them as "that sheltered Nohrian prince(ss)".

Spock Speak: The Female Avatar speaks formally at all times.

Strategy Versus Tactics: Unlike Robin, the Avatar is good with the latter but not the former. While their charisma makes them an excellent leader in skirmishes and the Male Avatar's support with Shiro show he's good at discerning an immediate opponent's strengths and weaknesses, both genders lack the vision to handle large-scale battles. Their supports with Leo in particular showcases this difference, with the Avatar being upset at their inability to command large forces and Leo upset as his inability to command small ones.

Survivor's Guilt: Never outright stated, but it's implied they suffer from this, due to Sumeragi and Mikoto dying to protect them. Their supports with characters like Kaze and Yukimura have them apologizing for surviving Garon's ambush when Sumeragi did not—something they had no control over—they often express doubt over their own worthiness, and they downright panic if they're ever forced to leave allies behind. Depending on the route, they may have to watch even more of their loved ones sacrifice themselves for them, and express a great deal of anguish over that as well.

Sweet Tooth: Several of their supports include them handing candy to the other person, implying they love sweets and keep some on them at all times. Jakob also mentions making some for them in his supports with Effie.

Trying Not to Cry: In late Conquest, when Ryoma kills himself in front of them, they hit a point where they need to walk away and verbally remind themselves that crying now would ruin their facade as Garon's obedient, cold hearted child. It doesn't work, and they shed several chapters' worth of Tears of Remorse.

Unstoppable Rage:It doesn't happen often, but when the Avatar gets pissed, they get pissed. Their mindless, grief-driven rampage in Chapter 5 is perhaps the best example of this, followed up by their Paralogue with their child Kana after seeing them attacked.

In Conquest, when Iago tells the Avatar about all the things he has done under the king's orders to ruin their life in their pre-fight conversation in Ch 26, the Avatar straight up says they will kill him.

Warrior Therapist: The Avatar is always willing to lend an ear to the troubles of their comrades, and will do whatever they can to help.

Weak, but Skilled: While the Avatar is no slouch in battle, and is arguably one of the best fighters in the army, they are far from the strongest, finding themselves bested by more powerful opponents like King Garon, Xander on Birthright or Anankos in Revelation in straight-up single combat. Rather, their greatest strengths are their intelligence and analytical ability; their charisma; their determination; the Yato; and their bonds with the many people that are or grow loyal to them, especially the royal siblings. Their fighting style seems to reflect this trope as well—lots of flips, spins and twists that lack power, but are very fast and hard to dodge.

Wide-Eyed Idealist: The Avatar has a rather hopeful, idealistic view of the world. Depending on what route is chosen, it may or may not be broken by what happens next.

Xander: Mark my words, Avatar... One day an act of kindness may be the death of you. Avatar: Perhaps, but if I'm kind, I will die without regrets.

[adriellej]

You’re not there

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentioned), John Winchester (mentioned but plays a major part)

Summary: Things get out of hand for Dean when he sees a teenage boy and his dad having a good relationship. He struggle to deal with emotions and reader helps him on the way.

Warnings: Well a bit of angst, sorrow, a very hurt Dean, nothing else I think.

Word count: 1.5K+

A/N: This is my entry for Kari’s (@thing-you-do-with-that-thing​) Danish Artists SPN Challenge. I chose You’re not there by Lukas Graham, cool artist btw!! The song has really inspired me a lot to write this fic the way it has been written. Also, such long time ago I ever wrote anything and posted, hope it doesn’t suck completely. 

Everything in bold and italic is song lyrics. Also thanks to @curliesallovertheplace​ for being my beta!

Dean had been acting weird ever since you had said goodbye to the teenage boy and his father. He didn’t really seem to care that you gave him weird looks, or even for that matter seemed to even notice you. But one thing was for sure, he sure as hell wasn’t your ordinary Dean Winchester.

“Dean,” you said with a calm sweet voice, sitting next to him and lightly grabbing his arm. His head turned to you, and his usually beautiful and playful green orbs stared hardly in yours. “What is up with you?” You said calmly as your thumb was stroking his arm, trying hard not to poke the resting bear.

“Y/N what are you talking about? Is your mind running off with you again?” His voice was cold and lacking every sort of sign of how he was feeling. But he did the same thing as usual, turning it away from him, making it seem like it is everyone else it’s wrong with.

“You have been acting off ever since we left that boy and his dad, Dean.” You said as you looked him deeply in the eyes, not letting this one go. His stare changed for a second and he swallowed thickly.

“I haven’t. Can you please go get some whiskey?” He avoided your statement completely, not even assessing the situation he was putting you in. You did as told, and let it be… for now.

---------

You had woken up and known exactly what to do. You had gotten Dean out in Baby and made him drive where you said he had to go. By the time you asked him to stop the confusion hit him.

“What are we doing here?” His voice was deep and if you didn’t know better a bit of fear seemed to be there too.

“Get out,” you commanded him and got out yourself, walking over to his side. “C’mon get out,” you said as you had opened his door. He hesitantly got out and you shut the door behind the two of you and pushed him forward.

“Y/N, why are we in a cemetery? What are we doing here, I don’t understand,” he continued to look confused at you.

“You have to talk to your dad, and there is no better way than talking to his grave,” your hard look at him didn’t do anything to what Dean’s reaction was.

“I am not going to talk to my dad. This is stupid. Get back in the damn car!” He commanded you angrily. He went back to Baby and his hand went to where the key should be sitting in the ignition.

“Is these what you are looking for?” You said as you shook the keys hanging from your finger, his head whipped in your direction and he was everything but happy.

“Give those back. Now!” His voice was stern, and he looked at you with anger and despair at the same time as he got out of Baby again.

“Dean we’re not leaving until you have talked to your dad. You have been acting completely different ever since we left that boy and his dad. I figured it’s because you didn’t have the same kind of relation to your dad, as they had. Dean you don’t have to play tough guy, it’s okay to hurt sometimes,” you said with sincerity as you walked closer to him. “Now go talk to him,” you encouraged him.

“What am I even supposed to say, huh?” His scepticism shined through every part of him.

“Whatever you are feeling,” you pushed him towards John’s grave.

“So I am supposed to just go up and say, hey Dad listen, you’ve been shit at being there as any other dad would have been for his sons?” Dean yelled loud enough to wake the entire cemetery from the dead. You shook your head and kept pushing him towards John’s grave, you knew that it might not help, but it was worth a try to get back your Dean. “Fine, but I swear we are leaving as soon as I say we are,” his voice had calmed, but he was surely still angry with you. You nodded to let him know that you were fine with this.

Dean walked towards his dad’s grave as you stayed back, leaving everything to him.

“Uh… so… hey Dad, uh… I feel like…” Dean looked concentrated at the grave as he tried to speak. “No, okay this is stupid, I have tried and I am leaving,” Dean said as his arms went out to both sides of him, as he walked towards you.

“Dean, no. Please just really try, what would you say to me?” You said as you tried pushing him without putting too much pressure on him. His eyes looked at you like he was ready to snatch the keys from your hand and walk away, but he sighed and started talking.

I only got you in my stories,

and you know I tell them right.

I remember you and I, when I’m awake at night.

So give it up for fallen glory,

I never got to say goodbye.

I wish I could ask for just a bit more time

“Dad, what happened? Where did you go? Where did the times go, where it was just you and I hunting together? I have nothing but stories and memories from you. When Sam and I talk about some of the times you went hunting when we were kids, I tell stories of how awesome of a dad I thought you were, and how great of a job you did keeping us safe. But Dad you left us. You left me! You were everything I had when Sam left for college, and we were creating history together. You didn’t even give me the chance to say goodbye to you!” You had never seen Dean so upset before, all the sorrow and misery he was feeling, finally being let go of, was almost too much to bear to see him so cast down.

Every step I take, you used to lead the way.

Now I’m terrified to face it on my own.

You’re not there,

to celebrate the man that you made.

You’re not there,

to share in my success and mistakes.

Is it fair?

You’ll never know the person I’ll be.

You’re not there,

with me.

“I am scared everyday. I don’t know if what I am doing is right, you used to be the one to tell me what to do, back when everything was so damn simple as to go do a salt and burn, and now suddenly I’ve had the apocalypse on my hands! You don’t see the person you’ve made, the man you have created. I am not like you, and I am not like Sam or Mom. Hell half of the time I don’t even know who I am or what the hell I am doing! I’m alone without you here, Dad. I needed you and you left because you couldn’t let me go. But let me tell you the truth, sometimes I wish you could have been here instead!” Dean’s eyes became glazed over and tears slowly started falling, sliding down his cheeks. The scene in front of you, made you want to hold him and let him know he wasn’t alone, but you hesitated, it might not be the thing he wanted. Your mind was elsewhere as you walked over to him and let your hands rest on Dean’s shoulders, and he looked at you. The hurt in his eyes was what he was really feeling, and you were happy that he would let it out, even though it hurt you to watch.

“I needed you and you left like it wasn’t even a hard choice! You took away the chance for us to say goodbye to you, for us to talk things through. Like it wasn’t hard enough losing Mom like that, then you too? I just don’t get why,” his voice trailed off with the tears silently running down his face. His shoulders slumped down and he seemed to fall apart. The silence fell over the two of you as his tears stopped and his breathing calmed.

You didn’t stand like that for long before Dean cleared his throat and picked himself up. His back straightened up and he put back on his mask of being a tough guy, and acting like everything was fine.

“So should we head home again?” He asked, his voice slightly off from normal.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you gave him a small smile and handed him the keys to Baby. As you drove off Dean put on Bon Jovi’s Dead or Alive, and a smile spread on his lips as the words from the song spilled from his lips. Sure he had put on his mask once again, but he surely wasn’t the man you had seen a couple hours before. His eyes weren’t as dull, there was a lot more life in them. The man you loved looked more alive than he had in a long time.

Tags (half stolen from Kari for a looong time ago) : @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @nichelle-my-belle @chaos-and-the-calm67 @leatherandwinchesters @winchesterswoonathon @not-so-natural-spn @that1awkwardfangirl @vilemalapert @blushingsamgirl​ @kayteonline @cdesi14 @sis-tafics @supernatural67brokenwings @ledledledledled @for-the-love-of-dean @torn-and-frayed @tia58  @deans-cherry-pie1 @sleep-silent-angel @mysteriouslyme81 @jordan0della @phoenixia67 @salvachester @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @shadowpriestess6 @effie-w @zanthiasplace @faith-in-dean @chickenmcsade @covarrubiasalex @mysupernaturalfics @mrswhozeewhatsis @get-royally-fucked @lacqueluster @blacktithe7 @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @liger26 @devils-dont-fly-cas-coziam-dead @poemwriter98 @lycangirl44 @aprofoundbondwithdean @purgatoan @1dstudyblr @irishdoll80 @castiel-angelofthelord  @ilostmyshoereads @unadulteratedstorycollector @talesoftheimpala @impalapossible @sleepywinchester @teamfreewill-imagine @hiddenwritingsintheworld @deascheck @curliesallovertheplace @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ellen-reincarnated1967

[ellanainthetardis]

I love your last prompt! You could write another one where Lyssa doesn't understand how Effie can be attracted by Haymitch because of his "plain" looks. And Effie explains to her all the reasons why H is much more attractive than her husband!

Here you go ! [X]

Comparing Husbands

“I do not see why we could not take the car.”Effie hissed, tugging him out of the way of a lamppost. This was a bad ideafrom start to finish. Haymitch was wastedand if she had initially caved to his insistence they could walk from theparty to the Center to avoid making a scene, she was regretting her decisionwith every passing minute.  

“’Cause I wanna walk.” he slurred, tossing hisarm around her shoulders and drawing her close to his side. She consideredpushing him away but in the end, she surrendered, if only because it was easierto support him that watch him stumble every two steps. The hand on her shoulderwas playing with the strap of her dress, toying with the diamond clasp holdingit in place.

“Stop this.” she commanded. “I do not want tofind myself topless in the street and I do not believe you would enjoy everypasserby ogling me.”

It took a moment for him to process that butthen he left the diamond clasp alone, curling his arm around her neck insteadso the tips of his fingers were brushing her breast with every step.

“Pretty tits are just for me.” he chuckled,leaning in to butt his head against hers. “Your ass is so perky tonight,sweetheart… I’m going to fuck you so hard…”

“You are most certainly not.” she scoffed. “Do not be vulgar.”

“You love it when I’m vulgar.” he accused. “Youlove it too when I put my dick in…”

“Stop. Righthere.” she warned again, glancing around.

She had been sticking to smaller streets eventhough the great avenue would have been quicker. The hour was playing in theirfavor, at this time people were busy having fun, not wandering the streets. Therewere a few people mingling around in front of bars and clubs but they remainedmainly unnoticed for now – which was for the best given the way he was slumpedon her.

“Must hurt having that pole in the ass all thetime.” he mocked. “Loosen up, sweetheart. More kids are dead, the Capitol’scheering, we’re still alive and we’re going to fuck like rabbits tonight just so you can pretend it’s not eatingyou alive.”

“I hatewhen you behave like this.” she retorted, more sad than angry. She wished hewould speak lower though but she knew there was no point in asking. He was toofar gone. She should have let him have a few more glasses. Then he wouldn’t havebeen confrontational but downright clingy. It was easier to maneuver when allhe wanted was cuddles and not arguments.

“Like what? Like the human garbage you peoplemade me?” he sneered. “You’re disappointed, Princess? I’m not the dashingknight in armor you wanted me to be? Can still fuck you alright. Could show youright now.”

He suddenly pushed her toward a back alley andshe tripped on her high heels and almost lost her footing. She caught herselfon a shop’s display window but hestumbled and fell. He couldn’t have hurt himself because he barely put a kneedown but it was enough to sober him up a little. He glanced up at her, a flashof something vulnerable on his face, then it was gone. He clumsily stood up andbowed his head a little.  

“You’re hurt?” he asked, it was harsh but therewas enough guilt in there that she knew he was sorry.

“No.” she sighed. “We are not far now.  Behave.”

She didn’t make it sound as an order, more likea request, and he hesitated but eventually nodded submissively. Alcohol wastaking its toll, he was getting tired. That was good news. He would be lesseager to fight.

“Effie!”

The call of her name had her instinctivelylooking up and past his shoulder to the car parked a few feet away and to thecouple standing right next to it.

“Fabulous.”she grumbled under her breath, plastering a blinding smile on her lips as hersister and her brother-in-law made their way toward them. How much of thatlittle stunt had they seen? Clearly enough that Lyssa had a worried frown onher face.

“Are you alright, darling?” Lyssandra asked,kissing the air next to her cheeks in a hurry. “We saw…” She stopped becausepropriety forbade her from mentioning the dark alley that had been Haymitch’starget. “Are you alright?”

Her sister eyed Haymitch warily, making sure tokeep Rufus between herself and him. Rufus didn’t look any more impressed by hervictor.

“Perfectly fine, thank you.” Effie laughed. “Itis the most stupid thing… Those heels are killing me and I tripped. Haymitchtried to hold me back but we weren’t really successful. Haymitch, I am not sureyou have ever met my sister…”

“Sister.” he repeated, the word slurred. He wasmaking an effort to sober up fast,she could tell, because being in the presence of unknown Capitols was never good in his book and he probablyhad picked up on her nervousness and latent hostility.

“Lyssandra.” her older sister offered and thenseemed to think better of the complicated name in the mouth of an obviouslydrunk man. “Lyssa. And this is myhusband…”

“You’re a Gamemaker.” Haymitch growled, peeringat Rufus, before she had time to complete the introductions.

“JuniorGamemaker.” Effie automatically corrected while Rufus preened like a peacock.It was his second year and, if what she had heard from the rumor mills wasexact, it would also be his last. Seneca wasn’t pleased with him.

“You really think there’s a difference?”Haymitch snorted at her with open disgust.

“Behave.” she warned in a low voice.

Lyssa was watching them with acute attentionand Effie knew she was seeing everythingmost people usually overlooked. Their body language, no matter how discretethey always were, must have given them away to who knew how to look.

“Where is your car?” her sister asked. “Surely they give escorts and victorscars? You should not walk around alone at night, Effie, you never know whatcould happen! Why, Mother would have a fit if she knew…”

“Maybe they are making cuts for Twelve.” Rufusjoked, chuckling at his own joke like the arrogant jerk he was. “It isn’t likethat District is really useful after all.”

Haymitch bristled and Effie automaticallylooped her arm around his, digging her nails in his flesh to keep him calm.

“I am not alone.”she hissed at her sister. “I am surprised you would think they could refuseDistrict teams money, Rufus. Certainly it they were short they would get rid ofunnecessary employees first. Why,Seneca was just telling me the othernight it was time to… renew, shall wesay, some of the staff.”

Her sister’s frown deepened but Rufusunderstood what she was implying very well.

“Some escorts are getting a bit old, surelythat is what he meant.” he replied, lifting his eyebrows. “They are not asgorgeous as they used to be. Plus, they grow arrogant with age. They think they are witty when all they are is pathetic.”

“You little…” Haymitch growled but he stoppedwhen Effie dug her nails deeper in the flesh of his arm.

Her smile was bright, her expression bubbly asever. “It is a lucky thing my job issecured, then, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you have arguments most don’t.”Rufus shrugged, a small sneer on his lips. His eyes lingered on Haymitch just asecond enough for the innuendo to sink in. Or perhaps he meant Seneca. Therewere rumors about them too. Well. Shecertainly had arguments Rufus wouldn’t have when the Head Gamemaker fired him.

“If you will excuse us.” she cheerfullydeclared. “We still have quite a walk ahead. It is such a pleasant night…”

“Do not be ridiculous. We will give you aride.” Lyssa cut in. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

And she wouldn’t.

They were ushered to their limo despiteHaymitch’s protests that he would go on alone and meet her at the penthouse –something she didn’t want to hearabout.

Rufus helped Lyssa in the car and then placedhis hand at the small of Effie’s back under the pretence of doing the samething. She immediately went rigid, knowing what would follow. She shot him anicy glare but it didn’t stop the hand from slowly drifting south until…

“You take your dirty paw off her right now oryou’re gonna be missing a hand very soon.” Haymitch growled right behind her,his fingers possessively curling around her hipbone.

She rolled her eyes at the testosterone displaybut was secretly a bit pleased by her victor’s reaction.

For a second, she thought Rufus would engagebut then he glanced in the car at Lyssa, who was oblivious to what was goingon, and shrugged. “I was just trying to help.”

He climbed in and sat next to his wife, leavingHaymitch and Effie to sit on the other bench seat. Haymitch was in a bad moodnow. He was still drunk but his head was clearer, she thought, and he waswatching their interactions like a hawk. She and Lyssa made small talk for theduration of the short – and yet seemingly endless – ride. Rufus was holding hersister’s hand, his eyes focused on the streets passing by the window.

Lyssa did her best to be nice to Haymitch whoseemed to recognize the genuine attempt at being friendly for what it was andanswered in kind. Effie didn’t like it. She didn’t like Lyssa near any of herboyfriends – not that Haymitch fellinto that category. Still, when the discussion between them became lessstrained and she felt her victor relax next to her, her hand ended up on histhigh without her planning it.

He stared at her ring clad fingers for a while,not quite understanding what she was doing.

The possessive claim wasn’t lost on her sisterthough. Lyssa swiftly engaged her ina conversation and left Haymitch out of it.

She hadn’t planned on Lyssa and Rufus followingthem inside the Center but Rufus declared he wanted to check in with the GamesHeadquarters – Effie suspected all he wanted was some time alone at the bar –and he suggested Lyssa went up to the penthouse with her sister for a drink.

Haymitch looked annoyed but it would have beenrude to refuse, so they all exited the car.

She was focused on making sure Haymitch didn’tmake too much a fool of himself in front of the crowd of fans but she couldhear people screaming for Lyssa, asking pictures and autographs… It irritatedher to no end. Lyssa had been a mediocre model for a couple of years and shewas only a Gamemaker’s wife. She wasthe escort. She was the most famous.

“Envy’s not a good look on you.” Haymitchtaunted in her ear, once they reached the Center’s doors and slipped inside.Her sister joined them in the elevator a moment later, her cheeks pink underher make-up.

The mindless chatter with Lyssa about fashion housesclearly worn him out because when the elevator chimed to let them know theywere on Twelve’s floor, the first thing he did was run for his life, barelymumbling he was going to bed and foregoing the liquor cart in the living-roomaltogether.

On one hand, Effie was glad he would be out ofher siren sister’s presence, on the other she wouldn’t have minded the company.

Lyssa sat down on the couch with obviouspleasure at the prospect of some sisterly time. Effie tried avoiding as much ofthat as possible without hurting her sister’s feelings but she knew Lyssandramissed her and didn’t understand why she was constantly pulling away – shedidn’t quite know herself, her feelings on the matter were too complex to beproperly deciphered.

Lyssa accepted the glass of white wine Effiehanded her with a quiet thank you, covertly studying her.

“Dosay what you want to say.” she sighed. Better Lyssandra tell it to her than report to their mother foradvice on how to breach the subject. Thenher mother would be all over this and the furthest Elindra stayed of hercomplicated relationship with Haymitch, the easiest Effie’s life was.  

“We saw him trying to push you in that alley.”The words rushed out of Lyssandra’s mouth like she couldn’t say them fast enough.“We thought… We thought he would hurtyou.”

“Never.” she snapped, taking a sip of her wine beforesitting down next to her sister, her back rod straight and her bearings regal.It still didn’t compare with Lyssa’s natural elegance. Lyssa was born a lady.Effie was just trying to pretend she was one. “We were simply having fun. Itripped.”

“He pushedyou. He had his hands all over you.”Lyssa insisted. “And he was drunk.What if…”

“I would have said no and he would have stopped.” she cut her off. “There is no issuehere.”

“You sound verysure of yourself.” her sister hesitated.

“I am.”she stated. “It is not the first time he is that drunk and it is not the firsttime he finds me attractive. He never went further than what I was willing togive. Haymitch is a lot of things but he is not a brute, Lyssa. And, believe itor not, unlike others, he respectswomen.”

If Lyssandra understood what she was implying,she didn’t let on. Effie was becoming tired of Rufus’ inability to keep hishands to himself. Ever since he had become a Gamemaker, the problem had grownworse. It was like he felt entitledto the women he slept with behind her sister’s back. He could be a problem, she thought. He gave her that vibesometimes, this primitive clenching of her guts that told her she had betterstay away from him because he wasn’ta nice man. She had never ever feltthat uncomfortable with Haymitch.

The problem might be coming from her, though.The rest of the world seemed oblivious to her brother-in-law’s flaws.

Lyssa took a sip of wine and averted her eyes. “Youdo not seem to be immune to him… The way you behave with him…” He is mine and not yours to play with,she wanted to growl but she simply smiled and declined to answer, preferringdrinking her own wine instead. Faced with her silence, Lyssa cleared herthroat. “It is just… He is so… I won’t deny he used to be handsome in hisyouth. Why, he was quite the Capitol’s sweetheart for a while, wasn’t he? Notquite Finnick Odair, of course, but… Yes, he was handsome. And I know you were always partial to his charms soperhaps it is why you are still attracted to him now.”

“He is handsome still.” she retorted, a warningin her voice her sister either didn’t recognize or plainly bypassed.

“He couldbe, perhaps.” Lyssa granted with a small pout. “The facial hair would have togo or be styled… And the hair… The hair should be trimmed and washed. Thegeneral attitude would have to be adjusted too. The clothes are elegant enough,your work I suppose, but truly there ismore fashionable. He isn’t very muscular, is he? Broad shoulders, yes, but hischest doesn’t look very firm… As it is, he is quite… plain.”

“Plain?” she repeated, half scoffing the word.

“Well…” her sister winced. “You cannot deny…Compare with Rufus, for instance…”

“I would rather not.” she huffed. “I wouldchoose Haymitch a thousand times over.”

“Over someone like Rufus?” Lyssandra gasped, eyes growing wide. “Darling, your victorisn’t worth a Capitol man.”

Her sister’s laughter rattled her the wrongway.

“You are right.” she declared. “He is worth twice that.”

His eyes only would be enough for her. His greyeyes could be hard like a stormy sky but they could be soft too. She loved them.She loved his hands. She loved the way his calloused palms touched her. Sheloved his voice. The gruff but direct things he whispered to her in the dead ofnight. She loved the pale blond hair on his chest, she loved running herfingers through it because it was manlyin a way waxed chests weren’t. She loved his strength and the knowledge thatwhile he had the power to use it against her he never would. She loved otherparts of him. Parts that had her worshipping them on her knees or arching herback in rapture.

Lyssandra laughed as if it was a joke. Maybe toher, it was.

“He must be very good at some things.” hersister grinned.

Probably better thanyour husband, shewanted to retort.

“Why, I have no idea what you mean.” she liedinstead, playing the dumb ingénue. It was her favorite role.

Minutes were slow to tick by and it took Rufusforever to come and collect his wife. Effie felt exhausted when the elevatordoors closed on them, and slightly ill-at-ease in her own skin, as usual whenshe was left too long in her sister’s company.

She wandered to his room without consciousthought, pushing the door open without knocking. She wasn’t surprised to findthe lamp on the bedside table on, even though he was sprawled on his stomach onthe bed, eyes closed – he disliked sleeping in the dark. His clothes were in aheap next to the bed but he hadn’t bothered with sweatpants. She let her eyestrail on his naked ass that wasn’t as firm as it used to be when they hadstarted sleeping together and she decided that it should be on the list too.She loved his ass, as crass as it was for a lady to acknowledge such things.She had taken a bite enough times to prove it. She liked leaving her markthere, the reddish lines of her teeth on tanned skin for him to remember herby…

She picked up the dirty clothes and tossed themon the growing pile waiting on the chair for him to actually put them in thehamper.

“They’re gone?” he mumbled. It was still a bitslurred but there was no comparing to when they had left the party.

“How drunk are you?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and studied her for a minutebefore rolling on his back, displaying himself in all his naked glory. Howsomeone could say he wasn’t handsome or attractive, she didn’t know.

“Not enough you should feel bad about doingme.” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes but kicked her heels off,forgetting to accuse him of being presumptuous. The wig was quickly removed andtossed carelessly on the side just because she knew it would please him, thenshe let the dress fall at her feet.

He didn’t move or try to help undress her, hesimply watched, his eyes straight on her even when she crawled on him andsettled on his thighs, straddling him. Not his favorite position but hetolerated it for now.

Another thing she loved was the way he alwayslooked at her when she was naked and ready for him. Lust and desire and awebattling in his gaze. Nobody had ever looked at her that way when she wasn’twearing a wig or some make-up. He would have to compose with the make-uptonight, she didn’t want to take the time to remove it.

“Tell me I am beautiful.” she requested.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes at the commandingtone.

“Fishing for compliments, yeah?” he taunted,reaching out to coil a blonde curl around his finger. He loved her hair. Shedidn’t understand why. “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. You know, you are.”

“More than Lyssa?” she insisted.

His eyebrows furrowed a little and then heshrugged.

“Don’t know.” he admitted “I didn’t really lookat her. Too busy watching that guy drooling all over you. What’s the deal withthat?”

“He is a jerk.” she explained. “And everyonethinks he hung the moon, including my sister. Although everyone thinks she hung the moon too.”

“You don’t like her.” he commented.

“No.” she protested immediately. “I love her. Ido. It is just… complicated.”

“Her husband wants to fuck you.” he scowled.

“Language.” she chided him. “I very much do not want to sleep with her husband.”

His scowl deepened. “I don’t like him. Didn’tlike the way he was watching you. Gave me the creeps.”

“As usual, we are of one mind.” she sighed.

“When are we ever of one mind?” he mocked.

“We are on some things.” she argued. “Now. I seem to remember you sayingsomething about fucking me so hard…”

In a swift move, he rolled them over and shewas trapped under his body, his mouth on hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissedback with all she had worth.

[the-silver-sunrise]

Setting Up (Tales from the Lost Souls’ #1)

Riverhold. What was originally a fortress built on the western point of the explored world, grew into a massive city and a central hub to the dozens of surrounding towns and villages. The city was a haven for adventurers from across the world seeking treasures and knowledge hidden in the unexplored Wildlands.

Of course, if there’s anything adventurers love as much as treasure, it’s a good bar or tavern where they can gather information or simply enjoy drinks with friends. One such bar is The Lost Souls’ Rest. A simple bar on an unassuming side street opened by a retired adventurer to cater to the needs of an ever growing city.

Julia smiled as she looked upon the plain sign above the bar doors. The barmaid had spent the past week alone in her home due to a required vacation from work and now she was eager to get back to serving drinks. A sharp gust of wind pushed her towards the door and Julia hurried inside.

She stopped in the porch before walking into the bar proper. Julia took a second to brush her long, black hair out of her face before opening the inner door to see her two co-workers already preparing for the new work day.

“Good afternoon.” Julia said to the room. The girl behind the bar poked her head up when she heard the door open but the boy by the tables didn’t seem to react.

Effy, the young blonde girl behind the bar, waved enthusiastically “Hey, Jules! How was your time off?” She asked.

Effy was Julia’s manager and the daughter of Sven, the owner of the Lost Souls’ Rest. Despite being only fifteen years old, Effy had shown great talent and interest in her father’s bar and had been brought on as Sven eased his way into retirement. She wore a white shirt with a black skirt under a black apron, the same uniform that Julia wore to work, and around her neck was a blue crystal pendant.

“Good, thanks.” Julia replied as she closed the door behind her and took a seat at the bar. “I think I just needed a little break. Did you manage without me?”

“More or less.” Guy answered from across the room. “I’m still learning the drinks.”

Guy was the newest employee at the Lost Souls’, having only been working there for two months. He was also quite young but, unlike Effy, he at least looked old enough to be working in a bar. Since his hair matched the black shirt of his uniform, Effy had made him wear a yellow bow tie to add some color, similar to the red neckerchief that Julia wore.

Julia smiled at Guys direction, despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. “Well, thank you very much, Guy. I really appreciate it.”

Guy glanced up at her and waved idly. “Whatever.” He pulled a cloth out of his pocket and started wiping the table in front of him “Happy to help.”

Effy stifled a laugh and gave Guy a snide look. “You were definitely NOT happy to help.”

“Of course I wasn’t!” Guy snapped back. He had stopped what he was doing and turned to face Effy. “You just sprang the extra time on me out of nowhere. If you’d at least told me the day before Jules wasn’t going to be here I’d have been okay with it.”

Effy turned her head in annoyance and huffed audibly. “Stop being such a baby.” She chided, “You’re supposed to be adaptable in this line of work.”

Choosing to leave the pair to their argument, Julia stood up from her seat and went into the back room that doubly served as Sven’s office and cloak room for the staff. She took off her coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall, next to a torn black jacket that Julia assumed was Guys.

Julia took a minute to check her uniform. She made sure that her shirt was tucked properly into her skirt and that her neckerchief was tight enough. Happy that she was presentable enough for work, she pulled an apron from its hook on the wall and put it on. As she tied the cord around her waist, Julia noticed that the desk in the corner of the room was clean, as if it hadn’t been used today.

She stepped back into the bar floor. Guy and Effy had finished the argument and had gone back to setting up in silence. “Effy, is your dad not coming in today?” Julia asked.

Effy looked up, surprised, as if she’d forgotten Julia was there. “No.” She answered after a second of silence, “He wasn’t feeling well this morning. He said he might come in later but for now he’s left it to me.”

Julia’s expression turned worried. Sven didn’t get sick very often. “Oh, that’s not good. Well, tell him I said ‘Get well soon’ okay?” She said to Effy.

“Will do.” Effy answered with an idle thumbs up as she returned to checking the stock.

Julia watched the two of them work for a minute before Guy casually walked to the bar. “Okay. Tables are ready. What next?” He asked.

“Make sure the bathrooms are clean.” Effy answered from beneath the bar.

“Got it.” Guy nodded and turned towards the two bathrooms in the back corner of the room.

“Wait a second.” Julia said before Guy took a step “Let me take care of that, Guy. You sit down for a bit.” She walked forward but was stopped by Effy’s arm outstretched, blocking her way.

“Hang on, Julia. Let Guy take the bathrooms. Then he gets to sit.” She tried to give a genuine smile but Effy was radiating smugness.

Guy looked at Effy with a single raised eyebrow. “What’s in there?” He asked.

Effy met Guy’s suspicion with a wry smile. “See for yourself.” She said, pointing him towards the bathroom doors.

Guy sighed audibly and walked to the bathrooms, his earlier confidence shaken and replaced with trepidation. Julia leaned close to Effy and whispered, “What’s in there?”

Effy let out a little chuckle before answering. “Dad and I were the ones closing up last night. I ‘forgot’ to clean the bathrooms. Whatever was in there smelled pretty bad and now it’s had twelve hours to turn really bad.”

They both watched intently as Guy reluctantly opened the door to the men’s bathroom. He didn’t even take a step in before exclaiming “Oh God!” and slamming the door shut.

Effy immediately started laughing loudly despite Guy’s glares at her. Julia made sure to turn away to hide her own laughter. “Why!? What did I do?!” Guy shouted in exasperation.

It took a minute, but eventually Effy answered Guy’s question through her laughter, “You didn’t do anything. You’ve actually been pretty good lately. This was just to remind you how bad it can get if you slack off.”

Guy muttered something under his breath that Julia couldn’t hear from across the room, but she thought she made out the words ‘devil woman’. She decided that he’d had enough abuse for now. “It’s alright, Guy. I’ll help you” she said as she walked past Effy towards Guy.

“Thank you.” Guy said, sounding like a dying man who had just been given a loaf of bread.

Effy continued laughing to herself as Julia coaxed Guy into the bathroom. Eventually, she went back to what she was doing, organizing the various drinks and ingredients they kept behind the bar. After a few minutes she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening followed by quick footsteps. She looked up from the bar just in time to see Guy dash out of the back door. Julia stepped out after another minute, shared a smile with Effy, and went into the women’s restroom.

With nothing else to do until either of her employees returned, Effy checked over the different glasses. She noticed one was chipped at the rim so she took it into the back room and left it on her dad’s desk to remind her to either get it fixed or replaced later. On her way back, she saw Julia leave the bathrooms. Effy walked up to her and was immediately assaulted by a ghastly odor.

“Hang on. Before you do anything Jules…” Effy said before turning to the back door, “Hey, Guy! Get in here!”

Julia stayed where she was. Guy came back in and shambled up to where they were standing. True to Effy’s suspicions, Guy smelled just as bad as Julia.

“Stand still for a second.” Effy commanded as she held her crystal pendant lightly with one hand. She waved her other hand in the direction of Julia and Guy while muttering words that Julia couldn’t quite make out. After a few seconds of standing awkwardly, Effy’s pendant started to glow faintly and Julia noticed the distinct smell of lemons.

Effy brought her hands down, “There,” She declared happily, “Couldn’t have you two smelling like that all day. The alcohol can only cover up so much.”

“Thanks, Effy” Julia said with a smile.

Guy started walking away before turning over his shoulder and saying “Yeah, thanks. I’m still gonna take a minute outside if that’s alright.” Without waiting for an answer, he strolled out of the back door.

Julia and Effy sat at one of the tables. “I hope whoever did that went to see a doctor afterwards. Vomit shouldn’t be that color.” Julia remarked, gesturing back to the men’s restroom.

Effy shrugged “I dunno. I didn’t catch whoever it was. You can get some air too, if you want.”

Julia shook her head “No, I’m okay. I’ve worked here long enough that the smells don’t bother me much. Plus, I don’t have a great nose in the first place.”

“Great.” Effy replied before snapping her fingers in realization. “Oh yeah. So I added a couple things to the menu while you were gone. Take a look.” She picked up the menu on the table and handed it to Julia.

Julia looked over the menu. Most of the entries were drinks she was familiar with but one in particular caught her eye. “’Sea Breeze’. That’s a new one, right?”

Effy nodded enthusiastically “Yep. It’s about two thirds cranberry juice with the last third a split between grapefruit juice and vodka. You serve it on the rocks with a lime slice.” While talking, Effy was moving her arms as if she was preparing an invisible drink to highlight her explanation. “It sounds like a nice, summery drink. Might do well as it gets warmer.”

“Good idea.” Julia said, putting the menu back on the table. “I might try one of those later today.”

Effy opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the back door opening and Guy walking up to them “Okay, I think I’m good now. What else needs doing?” He asked.

Effy looked around the room. To Julia it seemed as if she was working through a checklist in her head. After a few seconds, Effy said “uhh… I think we’re good to go. Are you guys ready to open?”

Julia stood up from her chair “Uh huh.” She answered.

Guy made a show of stretching his arms before saying “Sure.”

“Cool.” Effy responded while standing up herself. “Hey, Jules. There’s a couple more new things on the menu. Just call me if you don’t know something.”

Julia walked behind the bar and began checking where everything was. “Will do, Boss.” She called out as Effy jogged to the front door.

Effy turned the sign on the window from ‘closed’ to ‘open’ and opened the outer doors of the front porch wide. “Alright!” She exclaimed to the room, “We are officially open!”

Guy coughed to accent the silence that followed Effy’s statement. “And now we hang around for an hour before someone comes in.” He said, taking a seat at one of the tables.

Julia leaned on the bar and laughed, “It could be worse. At least when it’s quiet we can relax.”

“I guess.” Effy conceded as she sat at the bar. “I’d still be nice if we were more popular.”

The door opened a few minutes later and Julia smiled at her first customer of the day. “Welcome to the Lost Souls’ Rest. What can I get for you?”

[ellanainthetardis]

prompt: the guys take haymitch to a strip club, but he doesnt like it and just wants to go home and be with effie, so he does ( you can make it smut if you want)

I did want xD Get ready for the crack crappy smut ‘cause I still can’t write that but watch me try [X]

Striptease

Effie glanced up at the clock when she heardthe chime of the elevator and made a face before quickly crushing the bud ofher cigarette in the ashtray. It was early still, much earlier than Haymitchusually came back. She barely had time to feel around her purse for the smallbottle of perfume and to spray some in the air to mask the odor of tobacco –she didn’t fancy a lecture on smoking that night. The ashtray was deftly hiddenunder a magazine.

When her victor stumbled in the room, itappeared as though she was filing her nails.

“Busy night, I see.” he mocked, going straightfor the liquor cart.

“Haven’t you had enough?” she rebuked,wrinkling her nose. “Where were you? You smell… even worse than usual.”

And it was putting it mildly. He smelt like sweatand smoke and liquor.

“Strip club.” he mumbled, pouring himself awhiskey. “Chaff and Jo’s great idea.”

She wasn’t quick enough to hide her annoyanceand he lifted his eyebrows at the irritated look she shot him. She filed hernail harder – and she would have to make an appointment at the beauty parlorthe next day because she was ruiningher manicure – focusing on the task rather than on him.

“I see.” she huffed. “I won’t ask if you hadfun then, will I? I do hope you werediscreet at least. It won’t do for Twelve’s good name to be dragged in the mudbecause its victor visits houses of ill-repute.”

He chuckled, perching himself on the armrest ofthe couch instead of properly sitting next to her. “Twelve’s got no good nameand I said strip club not brothel… Might have been a special orderon the menu though. Can’t say. I left when the dancers became too friendly.” Hecoiled his free hand around the back of her neck, squeezing once. “Why the longface, sweetheart… You’re jealous?”

“Hardly.” she huffed, shrugging his hand off.“Why did you leave then?”

“Don’t like having women on my lap.” hesnorted. “Even if they’re naked and ready for the taking.”

The image he was describing made her blood boilfor exactly no good reason at all. She snatched the glass of whiskey from hishand and stood up, storming to the window and taking a sip of the liquor. Itdid nothing to cool her temper. She hatedwhiskey – so obviously it had to behis poison of choice.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” he smirked and herirritation grew when she realized he was amusedby her reaction. “Don’t like the idea of me looking at pretty young nakedthings? Should have seen them, sweetheart… Perky breasts, tight nipples… Firmasses… And the legs…”

“Will you stop?” she snapped. “I have nointerest in listening to this. You are a pig.”

And the idea of him doing exactly that, of him watching women wrigglingand writhing in front of him, begging for his attention…

“Maybe.” he granted, dropping in the seat shehad  just vacated. “You’re going to giveme my booze back?”

“No.” she declared, taking a pointed sip fromhis glass. “You do not deserve it.”

Damn him, his smirk and his twinklingeyes.

He knewshe was annoyed and he also knew whyalthough the reason would remain unvoiced and unaddressed as usual. There werethings too dangerous to be acknowledged. As long as they could pretend…

“You’ve got the best ass this side of thecountry.” he said, almost placating. “Didn’t see a better one.”

“This side of the country?” she repeated with ahuff. “Haymitch, I have been elected sexiest woman of the year, three years ina row. I do think I look a littlebetter than mere strippers.”

He chuckled. “What year was that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and he lifted hishands in a defensive gesture. He was in a good mood, she observed, and shewondered what exactly had happened at that club.

“Are you sure you did not enjoy it?” she asked,trying to keep the ice out of her voice because she had no business policinghim. He was free to enjoy whatever he wanted to enjoy and to do whatever hewanted to do.

“Enjoyed the view for a while.” he admittedwith a shrug. “Then it got boring. It’s like foreplay with no actual… You know.”

A little assuaged by that, she took another sipof whiskey. “You are not fond of foreplay.”

“Depends with whom.” he smirked. “Can’t say Iwouldn’t like you stripping for me…”

“I do not think you deserved that either.” she commented.

He tilted his head to the side and watched her,the smirk deepening a little. “Kept my hands to myself.”

“Common decency is hardly a feat worth atreat.” she declared, finishing the liquor and abandoning the glass on a tablenext to a vase for the Avoxes to clean up.

“Kept imaging it was you in front of me…” hecontinued, his voice dropping to a rough tone that always made her a little aroused – not that she wouldadmit that much. “Say, you can do the stuff on the pole?”

“Since there is no pole in the penthouse, youare unlikely to find out.” she hummed – and immediately put it on her to-dolist to take some discreet classes because one could not have too many skills.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you since that girltried to rub her ass on me.” he told her.

It was crass. And awful. And she shouldn’t havebeen as arousing as she found it to be.

“Let me make sure I understand…” she growled.“I should let you take me to bed because you are turned on by another womantrying to seduce you?”

He slumped a little on the couch, his gaze byfar too knowing. “Lose the wig.”

His voice wasn’t as much teasing as commandingnow and her automatic response was to lick her lips. “I am not playing thisgame, Haymitch.”

They stared at each other steadily for a whileand the certainty she read in his eyes angered her. He was convinced she wouldcave.

“Lose the wig.” he repeated.

“Not until you learn proper manners.” sheretorted. “Say please and I mightconsider it.”

“You don’t want proper manners.” he mocked.“You want to be fucked so hard you can’t think anymore.”

“You are so vulgar.” she scoffed with openloathing.

“And it makes you so wet.” he taunted.

“Do not talk to me like I am a stripper or aprostitute.” she hissed. “I am a lady and I will not…”

“You’re no lady, sweetheart.” he cut her off.“Cause ladies don’t get off being fucked from behind the way you do…” The smirkwas back, cocky and smug. “Maybe I’ll take you that way tonight… Bent over thecouch… You’d like that?”

She probably would. And wasn’t that anirritating thought?

“You won’t take me at all.” she scowled. “Youhave annoyed me. I am not your sex toy.”

She folded her arms over her chest and glaredat him.

“Lose the wig.” he demanded again.

“Say please.”she challenged right back.

Amusement flickered on his face. “You’realready soaked, yeah?”

“Just like you are already hard, I suppose.”she dismissed, because it was of little consequence how aroused they both were,the only thing that mattered was who would win this particular verbal spar. Shedidn’t mind giving up eventually because he did like to be in charge and sheloved how dominant he could be but she didn’t like the assumption that shewould simply hand power over like it was a given. She liked the struggle forcontrol. She liked the fight.

He studied her for a moment and then shrugged.“Please, lose the wig, sweetheart.”

“Muchbetter.” she beamed, quickly pulling pins out and letting them ping on thefloor.

Soon, the wig joined the pins and she tousledher natural curls, crushing down her insecurities. Any other man in the Capitoland she would have been mortified by her plain blond hair but Haymitch… Hisgaze darkened and he licked his lips because her hair, for some reason, was animmediate turn on to him.

“The dress now.” he commanded.

For a second, she almost made him ask politelyfor it once more but then she forgot the thought. It wouldn’t be as fun. Shecould wriggle the power back later.

She unzipped the dress and let the purple silkflop to the floor, slowly stepping out of the pool of fabric. She stood there,proud and victorious, offering herself to his hungry stare. She was wearing acorset and matching navy blue panties embroidered with golden arabesques. Sheknew she looked amazing and it made her feel powerful. The way he looked at hermade her feel powerful.

It wasn’t the healthiest, what they were doing. And often she thought they shouldstop while they were ahead. But sex was a drug of its own, just like his liquoror her cigarettes. It made them crazy and weak for each other. She simply couldn’t resist.

She brushed the tip of her fingers along theswell of her breast, looking straight at him. “Should I take the corset off ordo you want to do it yourself?”

She made it sound innocent and he growled, hisright hand falling between his legs. It was cheating, she wanted to argue,because she wanted to do that herselfbut she couldn’t deny she enjoyed the thought of him touching himself becauseshe was just… too much.

“Do it.” he said.

The corset was tied on the front and she made ashow of undoing the knot and then on pulling on the laces, going very slowly. He squeezed himself withevery new flash of creamy white skin and when the corset dropped at her feet,he was obviously flushed. He chucked his waistcoat away and unbuttoned hisshirt.

“Don’t.” she warned when he moved to open hispants. “That’s mine.”

He snorted and then shrugged. “Then come andget it.”

“But I have clothes on still.” she hummed.“This is a complete striptease.”

He shot her a look that let her know he knew what she was doing and he didn’tenjoy having the power stolen back like that.

“Panties off.” he demanded anyway.

She strode closer, swinging her hips, thegolden bangles on her wrist clinging together with every step. He opened hislegs for her without her having to ask and she stepped in between them, herintent clear. His hands briefly rested at the back of her thighs and thenroamed up to knead her ass.

“Take them off.” she requested. “With yourteeth.”

“Bossy.” he commented.

“Do you want me bent over the couch or not?”she challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

She hadn’t been expecting the small slap on herass and so she startled and yelped. Haymitch simply smirked. “I’m in charge,sweetheart.”

“Aren’t you always?” she replied innocently.“Now, pull my panties down. With your teeth.”

He wasn’t delicate when his mouth closed on thewaistband of her panties and she almost regretted that particular idea becauseshe was rather fond of that underwear set. Of course, she stopped secondguessing when his nose nuzzled her mound on his way down. With the pantiesstuck around her thighs, preventing her from fleeing, he forced her legs apartand, before she could say anything, his tongue was poking at her core.

“Haymitch.” she breathed out, all thought oftheir game deserting her mind. There was a more pressing concern: pleasure.

“Like I said…” he chuckled between her thighs.“I’m in charge.”

His tongue was too talented for his own good.  

When he stopped torturing her, her legs wereshaking, she was gripping his shoulders so tight her nails had probably leftcrescent shaped marks on his skin and she was far too gone to think. He had taken her to the brink andhe had left her hanging.

She barely registered when he slid herunderwear off or pulled her down so she would straddle his lap.

“My heels…” she reminded him.

“Leave them on.” he mumbled.

“I thought you did not like women sitting onyou.” was the only gibe she could muster and it was muttered under her breath becauseshe was too busy rubbing herself on him, trying to create friction, to find release.

It didn’t take a long time for him to be ready.When he pushed her off his lap, she got into position without being told, herstomach wedged on the armrest, her legs spread as wide as she could. She heardthe zip of his pants and the ruffling of fabric, she felt him move in akneeling position behind her and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

He didn’t touch her at once and it was evenbetter.

He teased her.

Breathing down her back…

Kissing and nipping at her spine…

Kneading her ass…

When he finally thrust into her, it took her bysurprise and she gasped in pleasure.

Of course, it also prompted him to bend overher, face pressed against her lower back to muffle his chuckles. She didn’tcare. At that point, the only thing she cared about was triggering her climax.She sneaked a hand between her legs but Haymitch grabbed it and trapped it atthe small of her back. He grabbed her other wrist and held it secure too.

“Don’t cheat, sweetheart.” he teased. “You wantsomething, you beg for it.”

“No.” she protested with the last shred ofsanity she had.

He gave one powerful thrust and she whimpered.Another and she was wriggling, trying to rub herself against the leatherarmrest of the couch. She got another small slap on her ass for her troubles.

“None of that.” he growled. “What do you want,Effie?”

The use of her name was a rare one. He usuallypreferred pet names. And in that context…

“Fuckme.” she breathed out. “Please, fuckme.”

“Why, Princess…” he mocked. “You only had toask.”

The thrusts were deep and brutal and she lovedevery moment of it. The whimpers turned to screams without her truly realizingit, she had no control over her body or what was going out of her mouth – encouragements, pleas and threats alike.

When she came, she came hard, slumping over the armrest without a care, the upper part ofher body dangling down. She didn’t even notice when he found his release, onlyrealizing he was done when he pulled her back properly on the couch. There wasa sticky mess between her legs but she didn’t even care, she was bone deepexhausted for all the right reasons and so she laid on the couch on her back,panting a little, naked except for her high heels. Haymitch was sitting next toher hip, still half undressed, pants around his knees, watching her, pantingtoo.

“He’s a fool.” he muttered suddenly.

“Who?” she asked, rolling on her side so thathe would have enough room to lie down if he so wished. They didn’t cuddle but, sometimes, he would allowthem to ride the afterglow together. She loved it more than she should have.

He didlie down but not before kicking his pants and his shirt off properly. It wasbetter that way. She got to snuggle close to his naked body.

“Chaff.” he sighed. “Thought those girls weresexy… Clearly, he hasn’t met you.”

“If you are saying I ruined you for otherwomen, don’t expect me to apologize.” she teased. “I am simply that exceptional.”

He snorted but turned his head so his nosewould be buried in her hair. His hand ran up and down her side for a moment andthen wandered down to her bottom, rubbing the spot he had slapped twice.

“You did not hurt me.” she hummed. “Do notfret.”

“I ain’t.” he scorned.

“I would have your head on a plate if you had,you know that.” she insisted. “I am not helpless. Everything I do with you, Ifully consent to.”

“I know.” he granted. “Not sure it’s quiteclever of you, but I know.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder anddid her best to just enjoy the instant. Peaceful moments were too fleetingduring the Games.

Next year, she thought… She would find a way tosneak a pole in the penthouse.