chapter 30

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━━・❪ 🌸 ❫ ・━━

Caelum felt like he was being watched.

Daphne had gone off to relieve herself, and Caelum couldn't have asked to accompany her without seeming like a pervert. So she'd vanished around the side of the house, and Caelum had palmed his bow and fidgeted, straining his ears for any sign of danger.

He knew he was being ridiculous. Daphne had been setting up the trap for almost an hour now, and in that time they hadn't picked up any hints of a nearby threat. He knew he'd heard something while out earlier, but he'd dashed back inside before he could investigate.

Maybe it really had just been a squirrel. Or maybe it had just been the Gamemakers playing a little joke on him. Or perhaps it was actually a tribute all along, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while Daphne was out of his sight.

There were only eight tributes left alive in the arena. Things were going to get bloody sooner or later.

And right now, Caelum still felt like he was being watched.

His heart gave a startled jump as a small leaf fluttered down and landed upon his hair. His gaze shot skyward, scanning the green mass of the tree looming over the porch. He couldn't see much beyond gnarled branches and leaves, but he drew an arrow nonetheless.

Not three seconds later, something came barreling down from the tree, leaping right atop Caelum. Caelum went down, crying out in surprise as his arrows scattered across the porch. He lashed out with his bow, cracking it over his attacker's head.

His attacker made no noise as it was knocked off his body, crashing against the wall with an eerie crunch. Caelum snatched one of his spilled arrows, having it nocked and launched before the tribute could recover.

The arrow buried itself into its right thigh, and Caelum blanched as the blood that splattered was ink black instead of crimson. The putrid odor struck him harder than a tangible weapon.

Then he noticed the gaping wound in the back of the tribute's neck, wide and dark against the ashen skin. As if a knife had been embedded there, only to be hastily ripped out. There was also a hole through one of the tribute's biceps, like an arrow had been shot right through.

Caelum was suddenly dizzy. He stumbled back against the railing, horror tearing like icicles down his spine.

No, it can't be...

NO.

There was nothing he could deny as the tribute's head swiveled around, creaking grotesquely as the severed bones of his neck grinded against each other.

"You're dead!" Caelum sputtered, suddenly finding it harder and harder to breathe. "I watched you die!"

Theron Dahir smiled. A horrible, twisted smile like a slash across his face. His skin was stretched tight over his bones, yet it seemed to sag at the same time. His eyes were dull and cartoonishly sunken in, his brown irises holding no spark of his usual animated charisma. They were completely, utterly lifeless.

The sight of him sent a rush through Caelum's mind. He remembered Theron smiling as they'd sat beneath the plum tree, joking about his stick. He remembered Theron's yowl of agony as Caelum's arrow had gone straight through his arm. Caelum's own fiery pain flashing red across his vision as Theron had slashed him across the flank.

Theron yanked Caelum's arrow from his thigh without a single wince. Caelum shrank back as Theron took a staggering step towards him, his movements jerky and irregular like a malfunctioning robot. The wrongness of it all threatened to stop Caelum's heart altogether.

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒 | hunger games ✓Where stories live. Discover now