This story takes place several years later. In my story, the rebellion had failed and the Hunger Games continued. This is just the prologue, so it might be a bit confusing. The real thing won't jump around between POVs, I promise.

PROLOGUE

"We made it," she breathed, rolling onto her side to face him. Even this little movement caused her to wince, marring the thin smile on her too-pale face. "We're in the top three."

"Only one left," He agreed, forcing a smile on his own face for her sake. "Tonight, we'll be out of here."

"Yeah…" her smile faded.

"Just think," as he spoke, he sat up, gathering up all the weapons they had accumulated and strapping them to his belt, "tonight we'll be gorging ourselves on soup, and bread, and pudding…we'll be in beds-"

"Priam, I don't want you going alone," she cut him off.

"Heather, we talked about this…"

"Please," her eyes filled with tears as she struggled to sit up.

"Sssh," Priam soothed, grabbing her shoulders and gently easing her back down. Even through the two black jackets he had bundled around her, he could feel the heat of her fever. "I'll be fine."

"You have to let me go, too."

He spared a short, pointed look at the mangled remains of her left leg. The leaves he had wrapped around it as makeshift bandages were already slipping off, red with blood. This was why he couldn't afford to wait anymore, why he had to go back to the Cornucopia where he knew Cinder would be waiting for him. He wasn't sure Heather had much time left.

"There has to be something I can do to help," she pleaded, a note of desperation in her voice.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, leaning forward to kiss her feverish forehead.

"Priam," her hand shot up to grab his wrist. "You have to win, ok? You have to…"

"I will. I love you." It had bothered him at first, knowing their every conversation was being broadcasted to the entire world, millions of people listening to him say those three private words. He had gotten used to it, though. He had to. They were just too precious to let go unsaid, especially now.

"I love you, too." People had been calling them the next Katniss and Peeta, their romance the leading story at this year's games. Not that it guaranteed their survival.

With one more quick kiss, Priam fled the cave. Dagger clutched in his fist, he crept through the forest, every sense alert. He could not afford to be killed. If he did, what would happen to Heather? Cinder would find her eventually…or the blood loss would.

It was silent but for the distant singing of birds and the rustling of undergrowth by small creatures. He didn't care about setting traps and hunting them. They wouldn't need more food, not in the arena. The only thing he was hunting now was the final tribute.

He didn't want to have to kill Cinder. He hadn't wanted to kill anyone. He and Heather had decided on the strategy of hiding out somewhere and just focusing on keeping themselves alive long before entering the arena. Of course that plan hadn't worked; he had already had to kill two kids. And now, much as he hated to admit it even to himself, he was going to kill another.

As soon as Priam's quiet footsteps had faded, Heather was moving. Her first step was to tear a strip from Priam's jacket (which he had insisted she wear) to shove it in her mouth. She didn't trust herself not to scream, and she couldn't have Priam running back to see what was wrong. Biting down on it- hard- she forced herself to a sitting position. A little moan escaped her lips as the movement sent a sharp spike of agony down her leg, but the cloth muffled it.

God, her leg hurt. She had never, ever felt anything that painful before. She supposed it was only what she deserved for not being a fast enough runner. She was just lucky Priam had arrived in time to kill the girl from district four.

Even thinking that made her hate herself. What had these games done to her that she would feel relief that a girl was dead? Only six days and already she felt irrevocably changed. She wished the rebellion eighteen years ago had been successful, that it had put an end to the Hunger Games once and for all. She hadn't even been born at the time, but of course she had learned about it in school. As usual, the Capitol had won.

There had been no talk of rebellion since the deaths of the once-beloved Katniss and Peeta. That was why Heather had to do what she was doing now. Priam had a plan, a dangerous plan, that the two of them could both make it out of the games alive. She had nodded and enthused about it, but she knew better. Just look what had happened to the last couple who had tried that.

She wouldn't let another rebellion, no matter how deserved, rise up. Too many people had died- for nothing. She could not have that guilt on her conscious.

So, clenching her teeth, she scooted out from the hollow they had dug in a tree, into the sunlight. She couldn't waste time thinking about how much it hurt. Any moment now Priam would reach the cornucopia.

Her vision swam, her ears ringing, the world feeling like it was on fire as she dragged herself to the middle of the clearing. She spat the cloth out on the ground. There was no one around, of course, but as she began speaking, she knew millions of people could hear her. "Whatever monster you created for the finale…send it here," she begged to the trees. "They can fight it out just the two of them. You wanted to get rid of me anyway, right?" There was no way the gamemakers would make the same mistake twice. They wouldn't let both her and Priam live. And she couldn't bear it if he died.

"Please, let it kill me."

After all he had done to take care of her for the past six days, this was the final gift she could give him. This was all she could do to help him win. The rest was going to be up to him.

She waited, every one of her few heartbeats left seeming to fill the silence.

She was beginning to think her request was going to be ignored and that everything truly was lost after all, when the undergrowth rustled. After a lifetime of watching the games, she knew whatever they had created as the final challenge was going to be horrible.

Heather pasted a grim smile on her face, knowing she was about to die.

Priam had reached the cornucopia. It appeared empty at first, and as he stepped forward, he felt horribly exposed. But then a shadow on the far side caught his eye.

"At last," the chuckle jumped across the clearing. A tall bulky girl, her dark hair spilling out of its knot, stepped forward. In one hand she clutched an axe, the dark brown stains on it visible even from fifty yards away.

Priam wasted no time on words, picturing Heather lying alone in the hollow, bleeding to death. Time was something they definitely didn't have. Her only hope now would be to get back to the Capitol, to a doctor. He bolted forward, knife raised.

Grinning manically, the girl from district twelve did the same. He knew it was odd, that the two last districts would be the only ones left. The rest of Panem must be going crazy with excitement at the unanticipated finale.

He wished they knew what it was like, charging forward to either kill or be killed.

As the creature revealed itself, Heather's smile faded. It was ten times worse than she had ever imagined it might be. As it attacked, she couldn't find it in herself to care if Priam could hear or not as she screamed and screamed.

It was only once she felt as if she had been flipped inside out, completely shredded, that she let her eyes drift shut for the final time.

Priam ducked as Cinder's axe swung down, feeling a burst of air at its passage two inches to the right of his shoulder. He jabbed upwards with the knife, hoping it would catch her in the stomach, ending it quickly. It just barely nicked her before she leapt back.

The two withdrew for a moment, circling each other, both panting, preparing for the next assault. Priam was just about to dive back in, when he heard it.

Echoing across all of Panem was a canon boom.

Priam froze, his entire body shutting down. The blast could only mean one thing, but it had to be a mistake. There were only three tributes left, and two of them were there. He felt the ground shift beneath him, his head reeling. No…

Cinder cocked her head, confused for a moment, before she smiled. "Guess your girlfriend's out of it now, huh?"

The words woke him up, brought him back to life. With a new hard fury, he leapt towards her. He became ruthless, emotionless, his knife slashing with no hesitation. She fought back, and some of her blows must have landed, but he couldn't feel them. His entire body had gone numb, uncaring whether he survived this or not. The only thing he knew how to do anymore was fight.

Soon enough, another cannon boom rang out.

"Congratulations to the winner of the ninety-third annual Hunger Games!"

Yes, I acknowledge that was short and semi-confusing. I just wanted to set the stage for the rest of the story. Please keep reading, this was just the prologue! R&R! :)