Tessa pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as the cold air whipped into the room, the wind throwing the door open. She sighed and slammed it shut again, taking in a deep, shaky breath. The sun was rising, meaning it was almost time. It was reaping day. Tessa checked her reflection in the cracked mirror; she was wearing a pale blue dress, her hair in soft, brown ringlets, crowned with several blue flowers she had picked from the side of the path. She looked 16- she had used her powers to make her look slightly younger so that no one thought it strange if she did not age, although was actually several hundred years old, not that anyone here knew that, in District 12. Remaining as a young girl meant one thing, that she had to enter her name into the annual Hunger Games. She did not care, not did she particularly worry about being chosen. She knew how to fight and had a natural instinct for it due to her dominant shadowhunter blood. She knew how to fight and how to survive, how to throw knives and how to heal and mend wounds. She had entered her name more than once for food, and did not bat an eyelid, not even when Orion, the boy from the school she had had to attend had confronted her about it.

"Tess," he had said, grabbing her wrist. "Tess, please tell me you haven't re-entered your name,"

"Don't call me that," she had said harshly, trying to pull her arm free from his grip.

"Tessa," he said softly, releasing her hand, his green eyes full of concern.

Tessa had wanted to talk to him, to get to know him. He seemed genuine and kind and thoughtful, and beautiful. He was beautiful.

Tessa knew Orion had eyes only for her, even when every other girl tried to get his attention, it was only ever focussed on her.

But Tessa knew, she knew that he would only ever be another- another person she would have to lose to the cruel circle of life which she had no part in.

She felt like Will had once felt- like loving someone would only cause them harm, cause her harm. She knew she could not be with another man.

"I have to do it," she had said, the softening the hard edge to her voice.

"I'll enter my name for you, and give you the food," he had begged, pleading. He was biting his lip so hard it looked as if it would bleed.

It was time. Tessa yanked open the old door which was falling from the hinges and pulled it behind her as she dismounted from the steps, away from her not-so-warm house. She glanced around as she walked down the path, kicking stones aside with her shoes. Mother's were weeping on their porches as they straightened their son's collars, braided their daughter's hair, whispered farewell to their children. Tessa passed many pale, frightened faces as she walked closer to the stage where a woman was standing, dressed in bright pink, her dyed hair piled on top of her heavily made up face. A hand slid into Tessa's and she jumped slightly, before turning to see Orion next to her, smiling.

"Orion," she protested, hissing so no one could hear.

"You alright?" he asked, cocking his beautiful head to the side, so Tessa could see the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the pink curve of his smile.

"I'm fine," Tessa said, slipping her fingers out from his long ones, "I don't care whether I am reaped or not,"

Every year, Tessa told herself this was true. And it was right up until the moment, until she was there, her finger being pricked for identification, standing in line, watching the video from the Capitol, her heart jumping with strained relief as she heard someone else's name for the girls and, she realised, someone who wasn't Orion for the boy's. It wasn't the fear of dying that scared her. It was the reminder- the memories that came with the fighting that saddened her.

Peacekeepers were assembled in lines, surrounding the throngs of people.

"You'll be fine," he assured her, reaching up and taking a lock of hair in between his thumb and finger.

Tessa pulled away and separated into the girl's line, avoiding his green eyes scorching into the back of his head.

"Welcome! Welcome, welcome," came the voice from the podium, "Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favour."

The crowed was silent, and the woman, dressed like a poodle, continued, her lips pinched into a tight smile.

"Now, before we begin, we have a very special film. Brought to you all the way from the Capitol."

The woman gestured to the screen above her head as the 'inspirational' music sounded from the speakers.

Tessa knew the words from the video almost off by heart, as did almost every other person.

She could not bear to watch; her heart was thumping in her ribs, like a bird trying to escape from a metal cage.

"This is how we remember our past," came the voice of President Snow, "This is how we safeguard our future,"

No. No no no. Those are jobs for shadowhunters, Tessa thought angrily. Sending 24 young people to the death? That is not how it works, she wanted to cry out. You need to protect these people, not murder them. How she wished she could say this, but she knew that she would be punished.

She sighed, and turned her attention back to the woman.

"Now," she had begun speaking, "the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 12 in the 64th Annual Hunger Games!"

Tessa's heart was throbbing in her chest.

"As usual, ladies first."

She strutted over to a large bowl, filled with paper, cleared her throat and plunged her hand in. Swirling it around, she grabbed a piece.

Tessa was sure everyone could hear her heart, hammering its way out of her body.

The woman was back at the microphone. She peeled open the sealed piece of paper and read out the words printed there.

"Theresa Herondale,"

Tessa's heart stopped.

Minutes later, she was on the stage, not knowing how she had got there. She felt numb and empty, cold and scared. She started to shake as she looked out at the crowd of relieved looking girls. Tessa thought her legs would give way, her knees buckle underneath her, but she stood her ground.

"And now for the boys," she woman said, giving Tessa's arm a light squeeze before trotting over to the second bowl in her high heels. Tessa felt sick and angry and confused.

Again, the woman pulled out a slip of paper. From the stage, Tessa could not only feel but see the tension in the air, but she did not care, for she knew in her heart that she was going to die.

"Orion Griver" the woman called out in her shrill voice.

Tessa looked up and caught his eye.

Orion.