As Hazel grappled with Aaron's revelation, her emotions teetered on the brink of a chasm so deep it threatened to swallow her whole. An informant? The word felt like a poison seeping into the cracks of her trust. It was a concept so foreign and yet, as Aaron spoke, disturbingly plausible. A wave of nausea crept up, unbidden, as if her body rejected the truth even as her mind raced to piece together her splintered reality.

"But he hates the Capitol," she whispered back to him, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire, "Not to mention the peacekeepers." Memories of long diatribes from Heath about the failures of the Capitol filled her mind. She also had numerous memories of his colorful interactions with their district's peacekeepers. More than once, he was detained for his behavior. But he was always released after he had been allowed to sober up.

Aaron's words floated to her in a soft murmur, his light green eyes catching the dance of the flames, casting shadows and light across his face in a haunting rhythm. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

The reply only fueled the fire of Hazel's uncertainty, igniting a flurry of questions within her. She shook her head, a gesture not just of disbelief but of trying to dislodge the shock that settled like frost on her thoughts.

How did he manage to gather information? Why would he ever work with the Capitol, the very entity that led to Cedar's death in the Hunger Games? Had Heath overstepped some boundary with the Capitol, turning from an asset to a liability?

She rubbed her temples hard, the pressure of her fingertips against her skin a feeble attempt to push away the tears threatening to spill. But despite her efforts to stifle her emotions, they welled up within her with a force she could scarcely contain. She glanced at Silus, finding no surprise in his expression, only a deep concern etched across his face.

"I can understand why I would be chosen in the reaping. But if Heath is helping the Capitol, why would she also be chosen?" Silus's voice was barely above a mumble, echoing the questions swirling in Hazel's mind.

Aaron's response, a solemn shake of his head and a sympathetic gaze failed to soothe the tempest raging within her. "That is a good question," he conceded, his eyes holding a depth of pity as they lingered on Hazel. "And one only Heath can answer."

Hazel sat there, the warmth of the fire doing little to comfort her as she felt her world crumbling. How could he do this? Did he ever care for me at all?

At that moment, Hazel rose to her feet, the overwhelming need to flee consuming her senses.

Aaron's voice cut through her turmoil. "I didn't mean to upset you, but you deserve to know the truth."

Hazel bit her lip, fighting back the swell of emotions. "I asked for it, didn't I?" Her gaze darted around, settling on anything but the concerned faces before her. "Just curious, how do you even know all this?"

Aaron sighed; the weight of memories clouded his eyes. "Dad and I... we're close. After my mom passed, it was just the two of us." His voice held a raw edge. "He's always been open with me, believing I'd step into his shoes as mayor someday." The last words hung between them.

Her throat tightened. "I'm sorry about...my father," she managed, the guilt gnawing at her. If it weren't for her father's actions, Aaron might still be home with his own.

Aaron's response was immediate, a gentle dismissal of her apology. "Don't be," his voice firm yet free from any accusation. "I don't hold the Capitol's beliefs."

"Which opinion is that?" Silus asked, throwing another twig into the fire. It crackled and popped, absorbing the newly added fuel.

Aaron's eyes dropped to the flames as if he had sought answers in their dance. "That children should bear the sins of their parents."

Silence enveloped the cave for several minutes, with Aaron and Silus remaining seated, their attention fixed on the dwindling embers of the fire. The realization that each of them was there as a direct or indirect result of their parents' actions made her sick.

Needing to escape, if only for a moment, Hazel broke the silence. "I'm going to get some air," she whispered, her voice so thin it nearly vanished before reaching the ears of her companions.

Silus's face was tight with concern, "That's not a good idea."

Hazel placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "Please. I need a minute. I won't go far."

With a heavy sigh, Silus nodded, "Okay, but if you don't come back soon, I'm going to come looking for you."

A brief, hollow laugh escaped Hazel's lips, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Hazel's gaze lingered on Aaron; his face, open and earnest, left no room for doubt. The truth he had shared was undeniable, cutting through the last threads of hope that what he revealed could somehow be untrue.

As Hazel stepped beyond the cave's threshold, she was engulfed by the vastness of the desert. The air was not just crisp but sharp, cutting through her senses with the precision of an axe blade. The desert at night was a different beast altogether—alive, breathing. Skittering sounds filtered in through the distance. Shadows danced across the dunes, some of which appeared to move. A gentle breeze shifted around her, and the air cooled even more. She shivered as she leaned into the chill. Glad that at least the coolness of the air calmed her nerves.

Finding a solitary rock a short distance from the cave, Hazel sank and wrapped her arms around herself, seeking comfort in the solitude of the night. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared out into the darkness, and the reality of her situation settled deeper. Betrayal had become her unwelcome companion.

Her memory flooded with different events that she was now rethinking, searching her mind for clues of deception. When Heath wasn't in a drunken stupor, wallowing in his bed, he made frequent visits to the makeshift bars of District Seven. Most were hastily thrown together scrap wood shacks that operated under the radar. Even peacekeepers occasionally sought to relax once in a while, making enforcement subpar. She had always assumed Heath's only friends were those who shared his penchant for consuming excessive amounts of alcohol. How had she been so oblivious?

Stolen novel; please report.

Her mind pulled more memories, trying to put them together like her life was some sort of puzzle she didn't even know she needed to solve until now. Her father's tirades against Oren, her mother, and their family had always been background noise. She never shared his opinions, but she never sought to correct him either. It was futile and just led to more arguments. He would never admit he was wrong, so fighting was pointless.

Her mind battled to reconcile the father she loved with the man who may have sent her and Silus to their deaths. One of her fondest memories flooded her senses. She was perched on her father's shoulders, her tiny hands gripping his auburn hair. They strolled through the winding autumn woods. Oranges, reds, and yellows melded together as the summer faded. Cedar walked next to them, axe slung over his shoulder, as he excitedly recounted his day at work. He chattered on about how he would sneak away to work on his carvings instead of logging. Heath's laughter was deep and warm, and as Hazel gazed upon him, his jade eyes sparkled with unbridled joy. In that moment, he embodied everything she loved about him. The world felt complete, just as it should be.

Hazel's fingers dropped from her head to her chest as they brushed against the necklace hidden beneath her shirt—the solitary token of affection Heath had ever given her. The urge to tear it off and cast it into the endless desert was overwhelming. Yet, she hesitated, her mind turning to memories of Cedar. It was all she had left of him. She looked up at the artificial stars, which appeared remarkably real. "I wonder what Cedar would think of this," she murmured to herself. She couldn't imagine his reaction. But then again, if Cedar were still alive, none of this would have happened.

A gust of wind sent sand brushing against her face and neck. She let the tears fall freely for a while; the silken lunar light barely illuminated the desert landscape around her. Which had grown eerily quiet, the skittering sounds from before had vanished, and the temperature seemed to cool even further.

The faint glow of the fire from the mouth of the cave caught her eye, along with a thin stream of smoke. She needed to get back to them. If she didn't, Silus would keep true to his word and come looking. With a deep breath, Hazel inhaled the desert air, its scent a mix of sun-warmed earth, sand, and another aroma she couldn't quite place. It was similar to the gamey smell of an elk's hide but also strangely different. Did they have elk in the desert?

Hazel's pulse quickened as she detected the distinct sound of movement through the brush—a sound not made by any human. It was a heavy movement, suggesting something large and unfamiliar was stirring in the darkness just out of view. Hazel's breath caught her throat with each unfamiliar sound that sliced through the murky desert night.

Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of movement as her hands trembled, barely managing to grab one of her axes from her waistband. She clutched it, her muscles tensed. A chant of guttural growls and the soft, sinister patter of many feet on sand weaved through the cool night air like the chill that seeped into Hazel's very bones.

She slinked her way toward the cave with careful steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Her feet skimmed softly over the sand, though each step felt alarmingly loud. The desert air thickened and seemed to carry her movements to unseen ears.

Growling intensified like a chorus. The snarls, deep and menacing, echoed off the sandstone structures. A tidal wave of dread threatened to engulf her as the vibration of what she could only guess was a pack of animals grew louder in her ears with each passing moment.

The cave felt like it was miles away, the sounds intensifying into a symphony of rumblings that foretold nothing pleasant. Hazel chastised herself inwardly. She had been blind to the danger her own father posed, and now she found herself in trouble once more due to her own obliviousness.

Just as she neared the cave's entrance, a massive shadow loomed on the edge of the horizon. It was more substantial than any human, an amalgamation of darkness and threat. But she didn't stick around to get a better view of it.

Bursting into the cave, Hazel's entrance was anything but subtle. Aaron and Silus, engrossed in a quiet conversation by the fire, snapped their heads up in alarm. Mia, still trapped in sleep's grasp, remained oblivious.

Without a word, Hazel kicked at the dying embers of the fire, sending clouds of dust, smoke, and sand into the air. The fire hissed and protested under her assault, the light diminishing with each handful of sand she threw.

"What are you doing?" Aaron questioned as he and Silus rose to their feet, their eyes wide.

"We need to kill the fire," Her words tumbled out in a rush, her gaze darting to the cave's entrance, expecting the night's horrors to spill into their sanctuary at any moment.

Understanding dawned on Aaron and Silus; without another word, they helped Hazel smother the flames. Darkness enveloped them as the last of the fire was buried under sand.

Hazel's gaze snapped back toward the cave's entrance. "Get Mia, move to the back of the cave. Now."

Aaron's voice broke the tense silence, yet it was too loud, "What did you see?"

Hazel quickly placed her finger to her lips, "There's something," she paused, listening to the distant, unsettling sounds from outside, "or somethings out there."

Hazel nudged Silus, signaling them to retreat further into the darkness. Aaron pulled himself away, crouching where Mia was still lying sleeping, and gently woke her. The fear in Mia's eyes was clear as she woke.

"What is out there?" Silus's mutter barely reached her ears.

"I don't know, but I don't want to find out," Hazel whispered back.

The group huddled together in the furthest reaches of the cave, enveloped by the thick blanket of darkness. Though the minimal light from the entrance barely penetrated the cave's depths, it was sufficient for Hazel to discern the subtle shifts in their shadows.

Then, the quiet faded into a gradual crescendo of unidentifiable growls and the unmistakable sound of clawed feet scraping against stone. The noises drew nearer, and Hazel's grip tightened around her axe.

"Stay quiet, stay down," Silus instructed the group, his voice a mere breath against the cavern walls. They complied, frozen in place, scarcely daring to breathe as the sounds outside grew louder. The growls were similar to a mountain lion's call but deeper. However, the scraping sounds bore weight and rhythm more similar to hooves.

Quivers ran through Silus’s frame. The red-bladed axe was in front of him as if he might need it at any moment. Mia and Aaron huddled together, their eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave.

The hours dragged on, and the sounds of the creatures outside showed no signs of abating, but they did not penetrate the cave's threshold. It was as if something held them back, or they genuinely did not realize the tributes were just feet away. As the night wore away, so did Hazel's adrenaline. More than once, she caught herself jerking awake after her eyes had involuntarily closed. Each time, she quickly straightened herself, clutching her axe tightly. Eventually, she and Silus settled hip to hip against the cave wall; their backs pressed firmly against the cold stone as they waited for the animals to either attack or move on. But they did neither.

Every so often, Hazel stole glances at Aaron and Mia, who also appeared to be struggling to maintain wakefulness. Their eyelids drooped with weariness in the dim light.

As the interminable cloak of night began to fray at the edges, the first timid rays of dawn pierced the cave’s darkness. Yet, in this moment of transition from night to daylight, a sinister shuffle broke the fragile silence, sending icy tendrils of dread spiraling down Hazel's spine.

She strained her eyes in the dim light; the blood congealed in her veins as she discerned a formidable silhouette. Hazel froze, her breath lodged in her throat as the outline of a broad and imposing shadow stretched across the cave's entrance.