The Princess of Panem | Finnick Odair x oc

XXIII

The room seems to still, a brief, fragile peace settling over the Capitol's grand hall. My heart is still pounding from the cannon's echo, my body still trembling from the flood of relief that washed over me as I clung to Finnick. They won. It was over. Katniss and Peeta survived. But before the tension can completely ebb away, before I can even begin to breathe again, a voice booms from the speakers.

"Attention, Tributes. The previous announcement has been revoked. There will be only one victor."

I freeze.

The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My stomach plummets, twisting into knots so tight it hurts. Finnick's arms loosen around me, and I feel my body jerk upright, breaking free from his grasp.

"What?!" I choke out, the word barely a whisper at first before my voice grows, fueled by disbelief, by anger. I stumble away from Finnick, my pulse roaring in my ears, my body trembling with a surge of fury I can't control. They can't do this. They can't just change the rules again. Not now. Not after everything.

I want to scream. I want to tear this entire room apart piece by piece. My fists clench at my sides as I whirl around, my eyes scanning the hall full of mentors, officials, and Capitol spectators. They're all just watching. Not one of them seems shocked. How can they all just sit there?

I take a step forward, my chest heaving, ready to lash out, to fight anyone and everyone around me. But then—

"Ophelia."

Finnick's voice cuts through the whirlwind of my thoughts. His hand grasps my arm, yanking me back into a firm, quick hug. His breath is warm against my ear as he whispers, "Stop. They're all watching you. Don't make it worse."

I stiffen in his arms, every muscle in my body screaming to fight, to tear at the injustice of it all. How can I just sit here and watch as they destroy everything? But Finnick's grip tightens, his voice steady and firm. "Please. For them, for us... don't."

I look up, and as our eyes meet, the storm inside me subsides—just a little. I can see the fear in his gaze, the same fear I feel clawing at my insides, but there's something else there too. Control. He knows what's at stake, and I can see it in the set of his jaw, the stiffness in his shoulders. He's terrified, just like me. But we can't act.

My breaths are shallow, ragged, as I pull back and force myself to sit down, my whole body trembling with the effort of holding back. I stare at the screen, wide-eyed, as Katniss and Peeta both look at each other, horror and disbelief etched into their faces.

They've realized what just happened. They know the rules have changed again.

Finnick's hand remains on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I can't move. None of us can. The entire hall has fallen into a deep, eerie silence. Even the other mentors who had been talking moments before are now stone-still, faces pale, eyes glued to the screen. It's as if we're all holding our collective breath, waiting, watching.

Katniss is the first to move. She lowers her bow, her expression unreadable as she turns to face Peeta, who stands unsteady on his feet, a strange mixture of shock and sorrow in his eyes. They're about to make the impossible choice.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. They can't do this.

Peeta steps forward, but Katniss raises her hand. There's a moment—a long, excruciating pause—where they just look at each other. Neither of them speaks, but the weight of their silence fills the arena.

Katniss slowly reaches into her pocket, and my heart skips a beat.

She pulls out the nightlock berries.