Torn: Sequel to Ruthless

Chapter 19

I won. But Apollo's still dead. Kai's still dead. Seena. Bark. Every tribute I killed. I have blood on my hands—literally and figuratively. I stare down at my trembling hands as the hovercraft flies behind me, the speaker booming Claudius Templesmith's voice. 

"Octavia Meyer," he yells. "Your Victor!"

Victor. The word is a dagger. I don't feel victorious. I feel like a murderer. I couldn't save Bark, Seena, or Kai. And Apollo... I lost him too. The hovercraft seats are cold and hard, but I lean back, closing my eyes, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. It doesn't work. All I see is Artemis—Apollo's sister, my best friend. What will she say? How can I face her?

Artemis, with her sharp tongue and piercing eyes, always the first to call out the Capitol's lies. How will she see me now? The girl who let her brother die? My stomach churns, and I feel sick. The Capitol will twist Apollo's death, spinning it into their sick narrative. They'll call it tragic, call it love. But Artemis will see the truth. She always does.

When we land in the Capitol, the lights and cameras swarm me like vultures. Doctors prod every inch of me, murmuring about bruises and scars. They call me heroic, their hollow words grating against my ears. I flinch when they touch me, but I don't complain. What's the point?

Later, they lead me to the Victor's suite, opulent and suffocating. The prep team chatters as they style me for the next performance—the post-Games interviews. They dress me in a shimmering gold gown that floats around me like I'm supposed to be an angel. I look in the mirror at someone I don't recognize. Soft waves frame my face, my bruises painted over. I'm supposed to look radiant. To shine. But I feel like a ghost.

The crowd roars when I step onto the stage. Caesar Flickerman beams as he greets me, but his words blur in my ears. "Octavia, our glorious Victor! Tell us, how does it feel?"

I open my mouth, searching for something to say, but before I can, Caesar interrupts with a gleeful, "Wait! There's more!"

I stiffen. What could they possibly want now? The crowd erupts again as a figure emerges from the wings. My heart stops. Apollo. He's alive. I stumble back, my breath hitching. Apollo walks toward me, warm and solid and impossibly alive. His smile is shaky, his steps unsure, but he's here. Here. Tears blur my vision as I run to him, crashing into his arms. His warmth envelops me, and for a fleeting moment, the nightmare feels distant. My fingers clutch at his shirt, my sobs muffled against his chest.

"I thought you were gone," I choke out. "I watched you die."

"I know," he whispers, his voice raw. "I thought I was gone too."

His arms tighten around me, anchoring me in the storm of emotions. But the Capitol didn't bring him back for us. They brought him back for the show. The realization sends a fresh wave of grief crashing over me. Kai, Seena, Bark—they're still gone. The Capitol didn't save them because they weren't useful. My hands shake as I pull back, staring into Apollo's eyes.

"They did this for them," I say, nodding toward the cheering crowd. "Not for us. They don't care about what we lost. About Kai. About Seena. They just wanted their story."

"I know," he murmurs, his voice breaking. "I hate them for it too."

The crowd cheers louder, a sickening reminder that we're still on stage. Still their puppets. My tears fall faster, but Apollo cups my face, brushing them away.

"We'll get through this," he says, his forehead resting against mine. His breath is warm, steady, grounding. "Together."

I nod, clinging to his words, to him. Maybe I don't believe it yet, but as I feel his heart beating against mine, I know I have to try. For Kai. For Seena. For Apollo. For Artemis. Even if I don't know how to survive this, I'll try. Because they deserve that much.