Disclaimer: All Hunger Games characters and core personality traits are the property of SC. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter One
Haymitch told her to keep away from the flawless devil at all costs; the opposite side of the arena, if she could manage it.
“If he comes after you, it’s not because he wants to propose, sweetheart.”
He needn’t have bothered.
There were very few things that truly scared Katniss, and with her loved ones hidden safely away in District Twelve, that list was shorter still.
Regardless, it was incredibly unnerving to know exactly how one was going to die; to walk alongside the man who was sure to take her life. Mellark was her personal, self-proclaimed reaper.
She could feel cold blue eyes on her where ever she went.
Back at home, Katniss could feign illness so convincingly she’d have the most reputable of physicians—were such a thing to exist in Twelve—ready to write out her death certificate, in order to avoid the annual trip into the mines that enslaved her District. As fierce as the hardened female was thought to be, she was never too proud for avoidance.
So it was yet another testament to his abilities when he caught her alone in the elevator, shoving the poor, meek male tribute from her district out on his ass as if he were a stack of flour. She tried to dart out the rapidly closing doors, desperate as a hare in a fox den, but the brut of a boy shot his arm out in front of her before she’d even seen him move.
He was so strong, so incredibly solid, that the force of her own momentum momentarily knocked the breath out of her as she slammed into him.
“Where are you going, girl on fire?” he crooned to her, voice as smooth and lovely as the rest of him.
If ever there was evidence that the wealthy District One had managed to get their paws on the Capital’s technological advancement in human genetics, this perfect beast was as compelling proof as any.
Katniss tried her hardest not to show her fear but her much smaller frame shook with it. “You aren’t allowed to touch me here, Career. They’ll have you charged so fast your head will spin,” she snapped viciously.
She hadn’t realized that she had instinctively backed herself into a corner until his massive body was progressing towards her. The very air in the small, enclosed space seemed to dissipate as he pinned her to the wall.
“Now that’s just not true, baby,” he shook his head slowly, eyes sparkling with amusement, “I’m allowed to touch you all I want. I just can’t harm you… yet.”
To make the distinction as clear as crystal, he brazenly slid his large hand between her thighs to cup her sex. It had precious little protection under the thin, tight material they provided for training and he was the first person to ever feel her in this way. She gasped in a mixture of terror and foreign, immediate bliss as it rocked through her body.
“That feels good, doesn’t it, Katniss? I’m allowed to bring you pleasure,” he purred down at the trapped girl, “If you’ll let me.”
His spell only coaxed a few seconds of submission out of her and she was quick to slap his hand away from it’s preposterously lewd location. The agreeable sensation was gone right along with it and that left her nerves confused and wary.
“Over my dead body,” she spat, angry with both the monster in front of her and herself for the moment of weakness. She longed for the basket case Cato, who would take the lone elevator ride to discretely snap her neck like a normal homicidal maniac.
This boy was infinitely more dangerous. This kind of Career could turn her against herself and to date, she had always been the only one she could depend on for survival.
He cocked his head in a gesture few would deny as playful, “I was rather hoping I’d get to enjoy you before that happened. I was even willing to make concessions…”
Like any prey animal facing death, Katniss was entirely distrustful but foolishly curious as to what he meant by that, hope being a heady poison, “Like I can believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”
“Oh baby,” Peeta grinned and brushed his fingers through her hair just to prove he could, “You don’t have damn bit of choice. Listen to your mentor, try to stay away from me in the arena, Katniss. You’ll find me extremely… persistent in my pursuit.”
She believed him. At worst he’d have her running until her legs could no longer carry her, at best, she’d live a few days trapped high up in a tree before starvation forced her right down onto the tip of his spear.
“So I should just sit on my pedestal at the cornucopia and wait patiently for you to come and collect me?” her laugh was sharp and had the unfortunate ring of pre-hysteria.
His handsome face seemed genuinely uncomfortable at the suggestion, though he continued to pet her like a prized kitten, “No. That’s no place for you. Find cover for a few hours. Wait until you hear the last of the cannons. Then I’ll come and collect you. I want the Girl on Fire with my careers.”
Her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with raw cotton but she managed to speak, “Right. Because if I somehow manage to get past my aversion to you, Cato and those two shrinking violets are sure to welcome me with open arms.”
The boy sneered with the first sign of real hostility he’d shown since trapping her in the tiny steel room. He pressed her body against the panel behind her with the unyielding length of his own. She felt his heated breath fan across the flesh of her neck and wondered if it was similar to the sensation one would feel in the seconds before a wolf tore into their jugular.
She could then hear pounding on the other side of the metal doors, could make out the familiar cursing of Haymitch as he threatened her abductor with a fate worse than any death one might face in the Games.
Still, he kept her pinned, too distracted or unconcerned to pay her rescue party any mind. Katniss could feel a thick bulge digging into her belly and was schooled enough in the basics of anatomy to know what he was pressing gently against her.
Her face flamed like the fire the Capital attributed to her.
“You don’t think I’m capable of protecting what’s mine?” he growled, his fingers wrapped around her slender throat in a fashion that was meant to warn, not harm.
“I don’t belong to you, Career,” the terrified female whispered softly, her instinct urging her away from the hostility she’d normally react with.
He kissed her then, the first she had ever experienced in her 16 years of life.
It wasn’t the lip splitting plundering one would expect from a man who’s life revolved around killing. It was tender but full of unmistakable ownership—sweltering domination—and didn’t end until the moment the doors behind them were pried open.
She had to remember how to breathe.
Last Chapter Next ChapterI’ll have you by my side or underneath me, Katniss Everdeen. That choice is yours.”
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