— 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 —

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

If being strangled over night hadn't killed me, the cold just might. Sure, I lived in one of the colder districts but living in one of the richer districts meant I was always prepared for the winter to come. Here, the temperature was barbaric and snowflakes were enough to bruise knuckles. I couldn't even imagine how the districts that rarely experienced winter were still alive. It was a miracle that after a week no one had died just from the conditions alone. The instructors hadn't been lying when they said our environment was our number one enemy.

The entire alliance was growing more frustrated with each day that had passed. Over the span of the week, the only tributes that had died were those on day one. It was like any of the other survivors had burrowed themselves away somewhere and kept hidden as if that would save their lives.

And then there was a glimmer of excitement to come. Faint echoes of screaming reached our ears from the south, calling us to a hidden glen behind the illusion of a mountain base. The frozen willow leaves that draped over the entrance might have made the Capitol gasp at their beauty, but they only acted as a hindrance in our way. With one clean sweep each, Lux and I sliced away at the willow branches and cleared a path.

We rushed forward, believing that we'd easily outnumber and overcome whatever tributes remained from the presumed brawl; however, we were proven wrong once more and forced to freeze in our tracks. Unfortunately our battle cries and jeers weren't caught in our throats like everything else.

Inside that glen was seven tributes, but they weren't alone. The closest thing I could compare them to were wolves, but the muttations were far more grotesque. Their size was the first distinct feature about them. Had they stood on their hind legs, I'd say they could have easily been nine feet tall. Their fur was long, silver, and matted. Their fangs curled out and down from their lips almost as if they'd been bred with sabretooths. Their claws were like razors, evident from the eighth tribute that I'd missed. Immediately my mind flashed back to the girl of district seven who I'd incidentally left unrecognizable... this tribute lying in the snow was worse.

From behind, I heard someone else gag as they made a similar observation: Beckett I think. And maybe it's because he recognized the girl from his own district as implied by the fishing spear buried in the snow beside what remained of her corpse.

One of the living female tributes screamed as one of the wolves lunged forward, biting a chunk of her arm before tearing away. A male tribute—with a bandage wrapped around a stump which was probably once a hand—rammed the mutt with his spear before dragging the female tribute away.

We were all too welcome to stand back and watch, but perhaps we should have just run away instead. Five tributes escaped, two had been left behind to fend for themselves. And only after both of them had been shredded—or worse, eaten alive—the mutts slowly turned in our direction.

Like a child crying out for help, with his dying breath the last tribute called out to the gods for mercy before his throat was snapped with a sickening crunch. This neither worked in his favor nor ours as it notified the mutts that their feast wasn't over just yet.

"Spread out," I instructed the others. "It's three against five."

"I'm sorry, did you not just see them take out eight tributes without so much as a whimper?" Rena incredulously asked.

"Only three died," I rationalized. "I'm sure these things were programmed with an acute sense of smell."

"If we don't kill them, they'll just hunt us back down," Lux agreed as he followed my instructions, inching toward the outskirts and pulling Halo along with him.

"Fine," Rena said between gritted teeth. "I'm taking fishface with me then."

Beckett's brow furrowed with insult, but he didn't dare refute her venomous glare. He clearly understood his role in this group. Now that Joule was gone, he was the bottom of the barrel.

"Bitch," he muttered under his breath, but the wind carried it so that only my ears heard. I chuckled in agreement, motioning him onward with a nod of my head.

Slowly, we surrounded the mutts. Lux and Halo charged toward the beast on the left while Rena and Beckett fought back the beast on the right. I was left alone to face the creature before me: one Capitol-made wolf against another.

It bared its fangs and I didn't back down, following suit as I snarled while retrieving my sword from the sheath along my back.

Lux and Halo were a well-oiled machine. Their movements were like one consistent attack; the other stepping forward when their partner fell back. It was evident that like Rena and myself, they'd trained together and likely attended an academy with one another. Unlike Rena and myself, they actually seemed to enjoy each other's company. Why they'd volunteer to enter the same games was beyond me when it was pretty clear only one of them could survive.

Rena and Beckett were the opposite of a machine. If anything, they might get themselves killed in this encounter. Rena had tried to take charge, but she was also selfish when it came to putting herself in the spotlight and preserving her own life. Beckett was trying his best to follow her orders, but eventually gave up and started doing his own thing. The mutt wasn't exactly doing well against the attack, but it was certainly doing its fair share of damage.

I twirled my sword, remaining light on my toes as the mutt lowered to its haunches. Its tail flicked back and forth before finally lunging as if its had spotted a weakness. I easily stepped to the side, allowing the beast's momentum to carry it forward into the rocky craig surrounding the alcove; however, it did manage to snag my coat as a reminder that I shouldn't get too confident just yet.

The mutt to my left—now my right as I'd turned my back to the others—howled. I could hear the sound of Lux's ax colliding with the solid form only to find the fragile interior of the creatures that were still only flesh and blood.

My mutt slowly rose back to an upright position, shaking the disorientation from its head as it charged again. I sidestepped again, extending my blade to graze the mutt's hide as it ran past. Hot liquid splashed onto my face as I injured the creature. It howled in pain but remained standing. I turned again, facing the beast and its rows of fangs.

The mutt to my right also released a howl before falling dead to the ground like the other member of its pack. Rena rose, wiping blood from her face with a look of pride I hadn't seen since our early academy days.

Now that we outnumbered the final mutt to our advantage, we charged in unison. It was the most cohesive that we'd acted as a single unit since the moment we elected to form this alliance. Suddenly, I forgot I was in the games and that I was fighting for my life. This only felt like another training exercise. A touch of normality. Of course that feeling faded once this mutt fell to the ground with half a whimper before joint the rest of this tundra: frozen in an eternal moment of death.

The hot steam of our breath filled the air as we each took some space to process and regain our energy. Lux was the first to speak, acting as if he himself hadn't just experienced the moment. "Well that was intense."

"You don't say?" Halo asked with the same tone of sarcasm, panting while a thin smile allowed her to laugh. "Next you're going to notice that it's a little chilly."

Lux nodded his head, looking around at the frozen glen littered with bodies. "I didn't notice until you said something, but it is a little cold out here."

Halo shoved him, still smiling. "Shut up."

"We should take their pelts," I noted, dampening the mood based on the looks I received.

"Back to business then?" Lux asked, throwing an arm of Halo's shoulder. "What happened to that charismatic guy back during the interviews? What happened to the guy who wasn't afraid to celebrate with us last night?"

"Yeah," Halo agreed, placing a hand over Lux's as it draped over her shoulder. "Now he was fun."

"They'll keep us warm," I explained, ignoring the questions that I felt patronizing. At this point, I didn't care too much about keeping up the facade that Atticus and I had established before the games. It had yet to prove beneficial as we'd only wasted rations and likely scared off any wandering tributes from the noise of their so-called celebrations. We had yet to receive a single gift from a sponsor, and now I was beginning to wonder if it was due to the current company I kept. "You can't have fun if you're dead."

"He's got a point," Beckett agreed, leaning against his harpoon to relieve the tension in his bruised side. "Survival should take precedence over fun."

As if trying to earn favor, Rena shook her head and stepped closer to the pair from district one. "You're the one that joined our alliance, fishface. We play by different rules."

Beckett frowned. I placed a hand on his shoulder before he could even try to defend himself. He turned back as if he were ready to fight me too, but I held up a hand to take control of the situation.

"If any of you scored higher than an eleven, then you can take charge," I kept my statement plain and simple. "Until then, maybe we should just listen to the guy that the gamemakers thought had the best chance of winning."

Rena scoffed. "If that was the case we'd be following the Queen of district nine."

"Would you drop that already?" I snapped. "Stop acting like a child and grow up. Who do you think you're fooling with this act, hmm? That girl won the public's favor because she's actually likable. She's not a threat; however, she's obviously your weak point that someone else is bound to take advantage of. So forget about the cameras and the fame, and maybe just focus on staying alive. You scored the best marks back at the academy, so act like it."

Rena blinked, and whatever childish demeanor was immediately overshadowed. Her lips pursed into a twisted grin as she nodded her head and patted me on the shoulder. "Thanks for the reminder. Alright, we'll play the game your way. You want to be the leader, then lead."

Honestly, I was caught off guard. I expected much more of a fight than the easy compliance I received. I kept my eyes trained on her—a touch of wavering uncertainty—as I addressed the others. "We'll strip the pelts and make some coats. And like killing two birds with one stone, we've also got dinner. All that's left is to make camp and figure out our plans to hunt down the others."

No one argued and no one complained. Each accepted their role without uttering a single word under their breath and camp was made quicker than any of the previous evening, almost as if we were still acting as one unit. There was this itch at the back of my mind though, like a vulnerability whenever I turned my back. Once or twice I swore Rena was frozen in time, stuck staring at me with that venomous glare of hers; however, when I turned to face her, it was just that sickly-sweet, stomach-churning smile.

There was no celebration this evening, despite the fear of taking on three mutts without a single casualty. Halo and Lux sat huddled together, sharing one of the wolf pelts like a blanket. Beckett had taken a rock and was sharpening his harpoon in preparation to take the first watch. Then Rena took a seat at my side as if we were two old friends who hadn't seen on another in ages.

"You had to go and spoil my fun?" she asked, leaning her head against my shoulder. I immediately recoiled at her touch, pulling back as she looked up at me with confusion. "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?" I questioned in a low, warning tone.

"You wanted me to grow up," she replied as if it should have been obvious. "So I'll drop the act and get straight to the point. I don't like that the ginger stole your attention."

"What are you talking about?" I rephrased my first question, trying to inch further away from her. "You're the one that's always talking about her."

"But you're the one staring," she countered pointedly, poking me on the chest with her nail. "From the moment she rode out into the arena wearing a sparkly dress, you haven't been able to take your eyes away from her. Do you love her?"

"What?" I scoffed, wide eyes as I pulled further away. I held out a hand to keep the distance between us. "Love her? I haven't had a conversation with her. You're delusional."

She laughed. "You should see your face right now. Is it really that easy to get under your skin? I just have to bat my eyelashes and act like I'm jealous, is that it?"

I frowned and growled under my breath as I turned away from her, rising from my seated position as if planning to storm off. However, she took my arm and pulled me back down beside her.

"Hold on now, don't be a sore loser," she laughed. "Can I not tease you?"

"You realize that your teasing and clawing underneath everyone's skin is going to get us all killed, right?" I snapped, that low-warning tone returning to my throat. It was an unpleasant sensation as I was reminded that my throat hadn't fully recovered from the attempted strangling.

Her lips curled back as she tossed her head back with a contented sigh. Coyly, she turned her head just enough to look at me once more. "That is the point of it all, right? There can only be one. So if I catch you off-guard with each wink or I make district four angry for calling him 'fishface', then I count it as a win in my books. You can call me a conniving bitch, but you won't see me bat an eye."

"Doesn't it kind of defeat the point by telling me?" I asked.

She only laughed at my counter. "You're only one side of a coin, Romulus. I've worn so many mask that you'll never know which ones were real and which ones I wanted you to think were real. You might believe you've been playing the long game, but you hardly know what that means."

She then turned her attention back toward the sky, watching as the projected lights overpowered everything else while the Capitol's anthem echoed its haunting melody. Both tributes from district three had died, and the girl from district four. Three more dead. Fourteen left. And as Rena's words rattled my skull, there was a lingering feeling that a week would feel infinitesimal in the long run as the games ran their due course.