Meanwhile, back in the Penthouse of the Training Center. 

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With love, stay safe and take care!~ CANGEL

***

Scarlet Wolfe

     "So, how did it feel?" Cassandra asked, her eyes fixed on Scarlet as she soaked in the sudsy water of the claw-footed tub. Tension leached from her body; her eyes felt heavy as the warmth of the water soothed her muscles. The scent of cool mint filled the air, mingling with the steam of the heated water.

     Scarlet knew that Cassandra was referring to what had just been announced on the television an hour before. Their scores.

     Crimson had scored an 8. Which had been cause for celebration in and of itself amongst Crimson, Penelope, and his stylist, Vera. It was high, but she knew that it was what Crimson wanted. He wanted to show everyone that he had some skills, while staying below the Careers level. If he scored where they did, then he would be seen as a threat.

     Then Scarlet's score had been announced. A 10. The room had stilled, no one had breathed. And then her picture had disappeared. Scarlet had gone to her room ignoring the questions and probing looks. She'd laid on the floor of her room, staring up at the ceiling trying to figure out if her score was good, or bad.

     She'd wanted a high score. Unlike Crimson, she wanted to be seen as a threat. She wanted the Careers furious with her for being out shown and outscored. And she had outscored half of them and matched the other half. But she hadn't gained the score from her skills.

     She knew—she knew, it was meant to be a punishment. Even if it didn't feel like it to her. She couldn't help but feel that there were strings attached to the number that she couldn't see. Strings that she wouldn't like in the slightest, when she found out.

     And that had been where Cassandra had found her an hour later.

     Scarlet hesitated, her fingers tracing patterns on the side of the tub with bubbles and water. "Fine, I guess," she shrugged, blowing some of the bubbles away from her face. "I didn't really earn it."

     Cassandra's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

     Scarlet let out a breath, sending bubbles floating in the air around her. She grinned, watching them float back down to the surface of the water, before turning toward her stylist. "When I walked in, they were really drunk; no one even noticed that I had come in for a solid five minutes."

     Cassandra arched a brow, urging her to continue.

     "At first, I just sort of watched them from the edge of the stage, waiting. I wasn't going to start when they hadn't even acknowledged my existence." Scarlet rolled her eyes, the memory flickering through her mind like a bad dream. "Well, eventually, they noticed me, and one of the Gamemaker's told me to impress him or to get out."

     She didn't know why she felt the need to defend herself to Cassandra. Scarlet had never felt the need to defend her actions from anyone before. When she decided to do something, she owned up to her decision and accepted the consequences. But with Cassandra...well, she couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her.

     "Scarlet..." Cassandra drew out her name, a warning look crossed her face.

     Scarlet shifted uncomfortably in the tub. "Yeah, well, of course, I impressed them." she said quickly. "They loved me, and they think I'm going to win."

     Cassandra laughed, all of her perfectly white teeth on full display as her head tipped back. Scarlet frowned, feeling a sting of irritation. As if the thought of her being liked was so unbelievable.

     "What the hell did you do, Scarlet Wolfe?" Cassandra asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

     Scarlet's heart pounded. Just say it, she told herself. Just like when her prep team ripped off the wax strip. The pain was excruciating, but brief. "I beat up an assistant in hand-to-hand combat and put a piece of paper with one of the Gamemaker's names on it next to him. Then I threw I my blade straight through the name." Scarlet chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Figuratively killing them."

     The smile wiped off Cassandra's face so face that Scarlet nearly got whiplash. Cassandra's face pale. "What?" she asked in complete disbelief.

     Scarlet didn't want to repeat herself, but she did.

     Cassandra didn't react any better the second time around. "Scarlet, do you know how dangerous that was? How stupid?"

     "It's not like I actually did it!" Scarlet said, defensively. "Besides, what are they going to do? Send me into the Arena to die?"

     Cassandra's lips twitched, but there was no humor in her expression. "Sometimes, you are so dumb, Scarlet."

     "I am not." Scarlet snapped.

    "Then tell me, what were you thinking?"

     Scarlet swatted at the surface of the water, watching some of it splash over the wall of the tub. "I was just so angry. You should have seen the look on that smug bastard's face." Just thinking about that face set her anger rising. "Trust me, Alistair Paine deserved every oun—"

     Cassandra cut her off, her fingers, wrapped around Scarlet's bicep with a vice-like grip. "Who did you mock?"

     "Alistair Paine." She repeated, her irritation spiking. "Now, let me go!"

     Cassandra's grip tightened, her face pale. "Scarlet, you stay away from him. Do you hear me?"

     The panic in Cassandra's eyes cooled some of Scarlet's anger. "Him? You mean Alistair?" Scarlet asked incredulously. "Obviously, I'm not going to be hanging around him." Just the thought sent shivers through her spine.

     "No, Scarlet. You don't understand." she said, moving her face closer to Scarlet's. "Alistair Paine is infamous throughout the Capitol. He—" she stopped and looked away for a brief moment before looking back. "He is a monster. You need to stay away from him and hope that he has forgotten about you."

     Scarlet swallowed hard, memories of the tribute event flashing through her mind. Alistair's approach, her dismissal, his hidden threat. "I think it's too late for that. He approached me at the tribute event."

     Cassandra's eyes closed momentarily, her lips moving in a silent prayer—at least that's what it looked like. "What happened?"

     "He asked me to dance, and I said no. He was upset that I rejected him, but when I said his name and he seemed happy again. He liked that I remembered him." Scarlet shivered. "I couldn't back down, Cassandra. I just couldn't. So, I told him that I remembered all my victims. And then he told me he did too." She rubbed the top of her palm where the shadow of his kiss still lingered. Every relaxed muscle in her back tensed. "Anyways, after that, I left the event and came back here."

     Scarlet looked down at the soapy water, shame washing over her. She had let her pride get the best of her, and now she was entangled with a man Cassandra called a monster.

     Cassandra's grip softened. Her fingers lifted Scarlet's face up and cupped her face in her hands. "Scarlet, you can never let yourself be alone with him."

     "Why?" Scarlet whispered; her throat tightened as a trickle of fear pierced her.

     "Because Alistair Paine likes only one thing in a girl." She said, "he likes to see a strong girl broken. A defiant girl quite fighting. A wild girl tamed." She shuddered. "And he enjoys every second of the fight until the moment that they stop. Any girl that has been with him, has ever been the same afterwards, Scarlet. No one, and I mean no one has ever come out whole after he's gotten his sick hands on them."

     A pit formed in Scarlet's stomach; icy tendrils of fear spread through her veins. She replayed Cassandra's words in her head, her warning clear.

     "What should I do, Cassandra?" she asked, hoping to get answers that Scarlet didn't have.

     Cassandra's eyes were full of helplessness, telling Scarlet what her answer would be, before the words were voiced. "I don't know."

     She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tidal wave of feelings and uncertainty that filled her. "I don't know either." She'd never had to lose someone's attention before. People naturally took a dislike to her.

     But his kiss burned on the back of her hand, a reminder of his unvoiced claim on her. And Scarlet knew that Alistair Paine was not going to forget her.

     The two of them sat in silence, the reality of the danger settling over them both like a suffocating blanket. The warmth of the bath could no longer soothe the chill that had settled deep in Scarlet's bones.

     But as long as she had Cassandra by her side, she still felt like she could make it. Cassandra's steady presence had become a beacon in the constant storm she was in. Her hands, still holding Scarlet's face, were warm and firm, grounding her in this moment of fear. Despite the looming threat, Scarlet drew strength from her stylist's presence. She'd never felt the need for a friend—never saw the point—but now she did.

     Scarlet was confident that she could handle herself in the Arena, but with Cassandra's support and guidance, Scarlet felt like she could find a way to navigate the new world that she had been thrown into, before she went into the Arena, and after.

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I already feel like Alistair Paine needs to die a horrible death... How about you? Comment and tell me. Toss out ideas for how to kill him and if there is one that calls to me, you may see it pop up in my story sooner or later.... *Rubbing hands together evilly*

Also. I really love Cassandra. I truly, truly love Cassandra. Do you know who she is yet? Do you know? Do you know? Tell me if you pieced it together yet! :) Here is a hint, she has a familial relation to someone in the original series....

Remember to vote and like and comment! 

Stay safe and take care! ~CANGEL