Chapter 1

I'm sitting in my family's designated room in District 13, anxiously awaiting Peeta's return. I'm curled in a tight ball on my bed, trying to stop shaking. Cold tremors run up and down my spine, but not because of the temperature. I'm wrapped in three blankets under a sheet and a thick comforter.

What's taking them so long? Is the plan working? Or are they already dead? Peeta and Gale… I can't bring myself to think about that. Sitting in my room feeling sorry for myself and worrying isn't going to help them. In fact, there is nothing I can do to help them at the moment. But, I have to think positively. Everything is going to be okay. Gale and Peeta are going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay… I drift off as those thoughts play over in head.

When I'm startled awake by another nightmare, Haymitch is standing at the foot of my bed, watching me closely. Still shivering, I sit up and wait for him to say something. Instead, he just stares at me with an uncomprehendable expression on his face. I begin to panic. Why is he looking at me like that? What happened to Peeta at the Capitol? Were they too late to save him?

"Haymitch, what's going on?" I demand.

After a slight pause, he answers, "They're back," and before I can bombard him with my sea of questions he continues, "You're wanted in the hospital."

As I rush to untangle myself from my cocoon of blankets, my mind explodes with possible scenarios. Where they hurt but brought back alive? What if Peeta was tortured so badly he went mad? Are they all dead but they want to at least have the courtesy to tell me all together? What am I going to do with myself if both Peeta and Gale are gone forever? Haymitch interrupts my thoughts by grabbing my arm to lead me to the hospital ward. I brace myself for what I'm about to see.

When we enter the hospital, I immediately see that Gale is alive. He has a cast on his arm and bandages across his chest, but I can tell he is alright. Plutarch approaches me and tells me that Peeta is in the next room over, and unconscious from the medicine. I'm instantly flooded with relief. Plutarch wants me to be there when he wakes up, but when I throw open the door, he's already awake.

A huge smile spreads across his face when he sees me standing in the doorway. He shoves aside the doctor he was talking to and rushes over to me. And we're running towards each other excitedly, arms extended, like we're in a movie. We collide and his arms wrap around me, strong and dependable. We hug for a long time, until he pulls back and really looks at me for the first time in over a month. I can see the pure love in his eyes, and wish I could return it. I can't help but lean into him.

He kisses me passionately for a long time, and it feels even more real than the moment we had on the beach at the Quarter Quell. It makes me hungry for more, and I cling to every kiss, every touch. We finally break apart when I realize that his monitor has been beeping out of control, and the doctor tells him he should sit down, calm his heart rate. We're red-faced and breathing hard and the doctor suggests I sit down too. I'm about to decline, tell him that the Mockingjay can handle anything, but I realize I'm actually pretty dizzy and collapse on the end of Peeta's hospital bed. What I'm supposed to do now, I don't know, but at the moment I'm too happy that Peeta's alive and well to care.

I move up so that I'm lying next to him, and when he puts his arm around me I snuggle against him. I suddenly realize that neither of us has said a word this whole time.

I decide to savor the moment and restrain from interrupting the peaceful silence.

He smiles at me and says, "I've missed you." I smile back, but right then reality catches up to me and my short-lived daydream shatters. My stomach twists as I remember where we just rescued him from, and what they must have done to him there.

"Peeta…in the Capitol…"

His eyes just turn sad and he shakes his head.

"Peeta, I know that they hurt you. I –" my voice fails me. My throat starts closing up and my eyes begin to water. I burst into silent tears and bury myself in Peeta's arms. He murmurs soothing words to me and strokes my hair while I soak the shoulder of his shirt. I just can't bear to think of the tremendous amounts of pain they caused him. He looked so thin and weak when I saw him on TV before we rescued him. I can't imagine what the Capitol had to do to get him to the starved, insane-looking state he was in only weeks ago. And he is no doubt trying his hardest to pull it together, so that I never have to him like that again. He doesn't want to let the pain and suffering show, especially not in front of me.

The worst part…this was all my fault. Peeta doesn't like to think so. President Snow was only using Peeta so he could break me. With a broken Mockingjay, the rebellion would have no chance of surviving. But now that Peeta is safe in my arms, I will not be broken. The rebellion will continue to grow. We will fight for the people we love, and the Capitol will crumble under our feet. I will fight for my mother and Prim. I will fight for Gale and his family. But most of all, I will fight for Peeta. They will pay for what they did to him.

I finally realize how much he really means to me, but I can't bear to think of the word. I freeze in my tracks. I was supposed to be pretending, and only now do I understand why it was so easy for me. This realization opens up a whole new world before me. No more confusion about who I do and don't love, who's my friend and who's more.

Gale may be my best friend, but he's almost like a brother to me. We're too similar n our brave, fierce ways. We both have that fire inside us, and combining them would only cause an explosion.

But then there's Peeta… He glows with confidence and happiness, and when he smiles it's so warm and kind that I can't help but smile back. He would never dream of hurting me or even fighting with me. He would give his life for mine, and has tried multiple times to do so.

I've taken him for granted and have never fully appreciated him. Not anymore. I will cherish every moment I have with him, including this one, for the rest of my life.

While having this revelation, my eyes have dries, and I am looking deeply into Peeta's sea blue eyes, practically swimming in the depths of his loving gaze. Although I'm sure my eyes are still red and puffy, I smile at him.

"What is it, Katniss?" he asks me, a hint of concern in his voice.

Without hesitation I speak the truth, "I love you." Although it's said in a hushed whisper, I sound completely sure of myself. As he processes what I've just said, I continue, "Peeta…this time it's real. The games are over. But the feeling has stayed."

"That's the first time you've ever said that," he whispers. Even in the arena, when you were pretending, you never actually said it." I see the truth in what he's saying. As I look back on my past experiences in the Hunger Games, I find that he has said countless times that he loved me, pouring out his heart and telling me his true feelings. Never once did I respond by telling him I felt the same way. I saved his life and kissed him time and time again, but never verbally told him that I loved him. After all that Peeta gave to me, he deserves every bit of my heart that I can spare.

"I know. I'm sorry. I thought I was pretending…for the cameras…but, I guess I was wrong. I need you."

Peeta just stares at me, shocked, but even through the surprise I can see the love. Like I am his whole life. And I am. And he is mine.

I bet he never thought this day would come. Gale and Peeta were always convinced that the other would win my heart. But, now I see all doubt erased from his face. I see myself reflected in his deep blue eyes. The face of a girl who has found the one she loves. And this time she is sure of herself.

Peeta puts his arms around me and whispers in my ear, "I'll never let go of you. I'm here." For a while, we just sit there, wrapped in each others arms, not willing to let this moment end.

Then, we're startled apart when Haymitch bursts through the double doors of the hospital. He runs to me with panic clear on his face, "There you are, Katniss. I've been looking all over for you!"

He knew I was in the hospital visiting Peeta didn't he? He brought me here. Then I glance at the clock. It's almost five in the morning. How long have I been here? I think back to when Haymitch woke me to tell me the rescue patrol was back. It was around nine at night. That means I've been in here nearly eight hours. No wonder he couldn't find me, he must have though I would've left by now.

"Katniss, we are under attack. The Capitol is sending droves of hover planes to destroy District 13, and we don't have much time. They think we have become too powerful, that we need to be contained. And we have you," Haymitch explains quickly.

Suddenly, everything is completely serious. I am out of Peeta's hospital bed and on my way to the Command room in a whirl.

"What's the plan?" I ask when I get there. My only response is uneasy looks and downcast eyes. "What?" I demand.

"Well, we called you here hoping you had a plan," says Boggs, the second in command, after President Coin. After all that they have learned about me, after all that we have gone through, they want me to make the decisions? They have obviously learned nothing from our time together. I rack my brain for ideas, in a panic because of our limited time.

"What about putting the District on lockdown?" I suggest. It's the most basic plan there is.

"The hover planes could be here any minute now, so we don't have enough time for that," says Plutarch, the Head Gamemaker of our previous games, the Quarter Quell, who supported the rebellion and wanted to overthrow the Capitol all along. Okay, so that option is ruled out. We could try to fight back, but our troops wouldn't be prepared for a Capitol ambush. And they most definitely wouldn't survive nuclear explosions. Maybe if I went into the battle and sacrificed myself, everyone else would have a chance to get away with their lives. After all, I'm the main reason they're here, right?

So, if they destroy District 13 like they did 12, it will be my fault. And I can't let them kill Peeta. Actually, they wouldn't be so kind as to simply kill him. They would torture him. I won't let them do that again. I can't let him go so easily. But, who knows, if I sacrifice myself, they may keep fighting District 13. Then I will have died for nothing.

I need a better plan. I could ask for Peeta's help. He would know what to do. But, he would, no doubt, insist on helping in any way he can. He would want to be a soldier and fight for the District. For me. I decide to take my chances and ask him for help, because we don't have much time.

I run down the hall back to the hospital, Plutarch, Boggs, and Haymitch in my wake. Now that I think about it, I should probably apologize for rushing out of the room without even glancing his way when Haymitch came in to tell me about the attack.

"Peeta, I need your help," I know he was there when Haymitch explained the situation but I tell him anyway, "Hover planes from the Capitol are coming to destroy District 13. It's too late for a lockdown, we wouldn't be prepared for battle, and I don't know what to do," I say in a rush. Obviously I can't tell anyone about my suicide plan in case I need it later on; they would definitely forbid it.

His face contorts in thought. Almost immediately, it looks like a light bulb has gone off in his head, "Aren't there underground tunnels built beneath the district?" he asks, "If we can get everyone into the tunnels we might have a chance." I think back to past days learning about District 13 in school. He might be onto something.

"How much time do you think we have, Plutarch?" I ask.

He looks at his watch, the same one that he showed me to try to tip me off on the style of the arena in the Quarter Quell, "Less than an hour, but I can't be sure. We would have to hurry and start evacuating people right away."

Peeta says, "Okay. There are several entrances to the tunnels placed randomly around the district. But, they're slightly hidden. If we can find a map of District 13 that includes the underground, we'll be able to find the tunnel entrances. Do you have any idea where we might find a map?"

"I could look in the old storage room but I can't promise anything," says Plutarch.

"Well, it's all we've got. So let's give it a try."

"I'll start getting people prepared to evacuate and warn my mother and Prim," I say.

"I'll help you with that," says Peeta, moving to my side. He turns to Plutarch, "When you find the map, call me down here and, if we have time, we'll start assigning groups of people to different exits." He strides over to me, takes my hand and we walk out.

"I'm sorry all of this had to ruin today. I wish we could have had more time alone," he whispers in my ear. His breath is cool against my skin and sends shivers down my back.

I simply smile to myself, happy to have him with me.

Our first stop is my room, with Prim and my mother. Hand-in-hand, Peeta and I enter the room. They see the intensity of our faces and immediately know something is wrong.

"What is it?" asks my mother.

"The Capitol is planning an ambush and will be here in less than an hour," I say, as if that explains everything.

Peeta continues for me. "Plutarch went to find a map of District 13, and it should have a section that shows the underground area. I think there is a system of tunnels that runs beneath the District with several entrances randomly placed within the borders. If we can locate those entrances, we can lead everyone to the safety of the tunnels." It takes a minute for her to process everything he has just said.

"We came to warn you. Peeta and I are going around the District to prepare people for evacuation. I wanted you to be the first to know," I add. The stress of the moment finally gets to me and I slump into a nearby chair. My mother and Prim are mow flying through the room, packing valuables and necessities in case the Capitol's bombs destroy the whole District.

"We should get going. To warn the others," says Peeta. It takes tremendous effort just to stand back up. I could sit in that chair all day. But, sadly, I can't.

"Okay. But we need a strategy. If we're as slow as this in every room, we'll be dead before we can warn the first floor," I say.

"Why don't we go on opposite sides of the hallway; you do even-numbered rooms, I'll do odd. That way we'll get it done twice as fast. But, no lingering, no matter who it is; just knock, tell them to evacuate, and move on."

"It's a plan." Peeta's hand tightly gripped in mine, we leave the room and begin warning.

Halfway through the second hall, Peeta's communicuff starts beeping. We stop and watch Plutarch materialize onto the screen.

"What is it? Did you find the map?" asks Peeta.

"Well, no, but I found something even better," he says. A grin spreads across his face as he reaches down and reveals a large, shiny, black disc.

We stare in awe at the shiny, unknown object in his hands. It looks more advanced than our current technology, polished and perfect.

"What is it?" asks Peeta.

"Come to the Command Room and I'll show you; it could save District 13," Plutarch replies.

We rush down the halls, curious to know what new discoveries await us.

"What do you think it could be?" asks Peeta.

"It could be anything from a bomb to simply a plastic container for all I know," I say with a smile. He gives my hand a squeeze and we enter the Command Room. Plutarch is sitting in a swiveling chair, his back to us.

"Plutarch," I say. No response. "Plutarch, we're here," I say louder. He must have fallen asleep waiting for us. Laughing now, I turn his chair around to face us so I can wake him.

"Plutarch you – " my sentence ends in a strangled gasp. Plutarch sits slumped in his chair, eyes closed, arms taped to the sides of the chair. There's a knife lodged in his chest, blood seeping from the wound, drenching his shirt. A second knife, smaller yet deadlier, is in his arm. The area around it is a sickly green. The knife must have been poisoned, giving the reason why it was deadly. And a third in his leg.

How did this happen? I place a shaky hand on his wrist. Nothing. He has no pulse. Plutarch is dead.