𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝟎𝟔. 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

— 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚 —

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

When Caius stormed away, I was hurt to say the least, but I couldn't claim it was undeserved. What many didn't know, is that Caius and I knew one another long before we were victors of the games. It was a scandalous secret that was buried with my family.

No one remembers the name Demetria Rye. Only because the elderly woman didn't satiate the Capitol's hunger to pry into the private lifestyle she kept once she won the fifth annual hunger games. So her name was tarnished and forgotten, covered by the dust of the ages to pass. She was sixteen when she won her games... but only a child when her innocence was taken like the rest of us. She was district nine's first victor... and she was my grandmother.

My grandfather was equivalent to nobility in district two. Only a step down below the mayor. And while my past isn't a pleasant one, I don't fear enough to feel the need to sugarcoat the truth. My mother was born out of wedlock from a torrid affair that my grandfather paid for; however, she was raised as if she wasn't illegitimate and never came to know the truth until after my birth. Of course, she blackmailed my grandfather into acquiring permission to visit the distant district to meet her mother, bringing me along as a safety net. Which is where I was introduced to the fledgling before the games hardened his once soft soul.

I'd disguise my scandalous visits to district nine as seeing my grandmother, but it didn't take much for my own father to see through the act. We both knew too much of the other's secrets to ever approach the topic. I knew they thought less of the boy from district nine, but I was a child in love... so it was no surprise to me when I uncovered that the reaping ceremony of the fifty-second games had been rigged. But the little falcon was more resilient and stubborn than anyone anticipated. He fought and won for me. I foolishly hoped this might change the way they looked at the boy, now that he too was a victor.

And then the fifty-eighth games rolled around. It was my last year to be eligible, and I'd planned to silently sit back and watch some other poor sap die a violent death. My father wouldn't hear it. He insisted that he'd invested too much into my training at the academy for it to all be squandered by fanciful feelings. He refused to let history repeat itself and risk our family secrets coming to light, so he threatened to break the falcon's wings. And against the falcon's wishes, I volunteered and became a twisted nightmare that the Capitol celebrated.

In his eyes, Artemisia died before ever stepping foot on that train... and he was right. Nightlock poisoned the veins of that once sweet girl, and it accidentally spilled over into the cups of those closest. Now, I was only a shell of myself: utterly alone and mangled beyond repair.

"So what's our next play?" that dolt, Silvanus, asked as he joined my side at the bar entrance. "Gaining sponsors, yes?"

My expression hardened with a glare of ice as I removed the hand he'd placed on my shoulder. "I'm going to get another drink. Unless you can convince Crane to stop sending mutts after the brats, I doubt there's much left to be done."

Silvanus's duplicitous eyes shifted to stare down the empty street while his lips twisted into a malicious grin. "Has Sokolov gotten under your skin again? Or have you finally managed him to get under something else?"

I remained stone-cold. He wouldn't have the satisfaction of bristling a single hair on my head. "Atticus. I mean this with all offense. You're the absolute worst."