Although Cato's warm fingers harden around my wrist, his voice remains calm and low, betraying no sign of fear. "Don't make any sudden movements."

A growl rumbles deep in the wolf's throat in response to Cato's voice. His teeth are bared. The hair of his coat stands straight up on end. I glance in Peeta's direction, trying my best not to move my head. He is still asleep by the fire. Glimmer and Marvel lie only a few feet from him, also fast asleep, also oblivious.

The snow creaks ominously under the weight of the wolf's huge paw as he takes a step closer to Cato and me. I have no way of telling whether this wolf is real or a Capitol creation, but it's certainly the largest one I've ever seen. It will have no problem ripping us to shreds… not even the beastly Cato.

"On my signal you run as fast as you can and get on top of the Cornucopia. You understand?"

I nod my head once in agreement, already knowing I'm not going to listen to him. Silently he backs us away from the wolf. Dropping my hand, he lunges forward, sword slicing down close to the dog's neck.

"Now, run!"

I turn and tramp through the heavy snow as fast as I can. "PEETA! Peeta! Glimmer!" Before he's even properly awake, I reach Peeta and haul him towards the Cornucopia. His legs tangle in the snow and he actively tries to dislodge my grasp, no doubt thinking I'm another tribute in his sleep-induced confusion.

"Damn it, Katniss!" I turn slightly to see Cato bouldering through the snow in our direction, fury written plainly on his face at my disobedience. Two wolves lie dead in his general area. One decapitated, the other sliced clean through the belly. But more are coming. I can hear the soft patter of their paws in the deep drifts, their ragged breaths as they fight against the freezing air. We have to get to safety.

"COME ON PEETA!" I bring him up as hard as I can, just as he comes to. His footsteps begin to match my own. Glimmer is struggling with Marvel, attempting to drag him through the snow, much the same way as I was doing with Peeta only seconds ago. I don't stop to help them and neither does Peeta. Technically they are my allies, but at this moment, it's everyone for themselves. Cato grabs Glimmer's hands, forcing her to abandon Marvel, as they follow behind us.

Cornucopia.

We reach it faster than I thought possible. Peeta immediately attempts to boost me to the top of it. It's higher than it looks though, and I fear I'm heavier than he anticipated. He propels my left ankle upwards as Cato's much broader hands find my right. Finally, they get me on top. Spinning, I take hold of Glimmer's up stretched hands and help the boys pull her up to safety. Cato starts to climb up on his own, after Glimmer. Somehow his fingers are able to find purchase on the slippery, frozen sheet metal. Peeta is not so lucky.

Agonized cries spill from his mouth before I even have time to grab his hands. I watch the events before me unfold in a nightmare. One of the wolves has captured Peeta's leg in a vice grip, pulling him downward at the same time Cato yanks him up. The fabric of Peeta's torn pants tangles with the remnants of his tattered skin, scarlet clots of blood dripping onto the wolf's snowy muzzle.

Glimmer and I are doing all we can to pull Peeta up. It's three against the wolf with poor Peeta in between. By some miracle,e the wolf relaxes his jaw momentarily and we are able to get Peeta out of his jaws. He lies crumpled in a ball on the top of the icy Cornucopia. I have his head on my lap, stroking his hair, saying anything I can to comfort him. But it's no use. His tears soak the thin cloth of my pants and he is trembling uncontrollably. I can do nothing to quell the pain…nothing to help him. It kills me.

Tortured screams of the same magnitude begin several yards from the Cornucopia. Oh God, Marvel. I'd completely forgotten about him in the chaos. A pack of four of them have him surrounded, taking turns feasting from his decaying body. One gnaws at his left arm as another disembowels him. A final moan escapes his lips before silence ensues. I think he is dead. The leader of the pack takes Marvel's head in his giant jaws, ripping it clean off his neck. The cannon booms. Definitely dead now.

Glimmer has her head buried in Cato's shoulder. I think she's crying. I feel bad for her and for Marvel, really I do. It's a terrible way to go. But right now, I'm mostly concerned about Peeta. His wound is severe. As if the promise of blood loss isn't enough, a wound of this severity in these climate conditions has a very high chance of becoming infected.

Desperately, I try to think of what my mother would do. My brain is empty. It refuses to work. He can't die, he just can't. I'll be left alone with Cato and Glimmer. They'll kill me. No more going back to Prim, Mom, Gale, or the Seam. Goddamn it Peeta. You can't die.

Frantically, I try to think of a solution. The medicine. Cato used it to heal my wounds from Clove's knife tricks. Surely he has some left.

"Medicine? Do you still have some?"

"It's down there." Cato points to our stockpile of supplies that sits in the clearing. It's not far, maybe ten yards. With the wolves though, it will be nearly impossible to reach alive.

I skate across the icy top toward the edge, preparing to drop down and make a run for it. Maybe I can do it. Cato reads my mind.

"No!" He grabs a hold of my ankle, yanking me back away from the edge. "You're not going down there."

"Look, he needs medicine."

"They'll be done soon. The Capitol will call them off to go kill something else. You can go down then."

I shake my head stubbornly. "I'm not just going to sit here and let him die!"

"It will be a few hours at most." Cato rolls his eyes. "The thing's hardly bleeding. He'll live."

Hardly bleeding?! "Have you looked at it? His skin is shredded."

"I've gotten worse in training. He's fine."

"Oh forgive me." I yank my ankle out of his hand and retreat to Peeta. "I forgot we can't all be big, bad warriors like you, Cato."

If my insult has any effect on him, he doesn't let on. He just stares, eyes flitting back and forth between me and Peeta. "Your boyfriend is a pansy, he needs to man up big time to have any shot of winning this."

"Just leave him out of it and worry about yourself."

"Katniss." One whisper from Peeta and I abandon the argument with Cato in an instant. It's going nowhere anyways. Peeta's shaky hand pulls on my wrist. "Really, I'm okay. It barely hurts anymore."

I know he's lying. The pain can't possibly go away that quickly after being mauled by a giant wolf. Instead of protesting, I wrap my arms around him and cradle his upper body in my lap.

"I'll go down as soon as I can," I promise, depositing a kiss on his forehead. "I have to wait until the wolves leave." It could be hours, it could be days, but I don't vocalize that thought.

Peeta nods in understanding.

"It's going to be okay. You won't die. I promise." I repeat this countless times, I think more for my benefit than for his. My panic at being left alone in this arena without him is indescribable. Eventually Peeta falls asleep, maybe because of my incessant chatter or from pure delirium. I try my best to push thoughts of his death from my brain and focus on happy thoughts.


Several hours pass, maybe three, maybe four, there's no way of telling. As Cato predicted, the wolves leave after devouring the rest of Marvel's body and rooting through our food provisions. Gallantly, Cato offers to go retrieve the medicine so I can keep watch over Peeta. I've removed my jacket and draped it over him to try to lock in the warmth, but he does not look good. His skin is starting to take on the same ashy gray color that Marvel's did before he died.

Cato climbs back up and tosses me the tiny jar of medicine. I take a generous glob of it and spread a thick layer over Peeta's shredded skin. This has to work. This has to fucking work. He remains asleep, his skin still ripped. So much for a momentous change. Only time will tell.

His forehead is clammy, but I kiss it several times anyways, smoothing his thick golden hair back away from his face. It's exactly what I would have done with Prim. Motherly instinct, I suppose.

Cato appears next to Peeta's side. Protectively, I wrap him tighter in my arms.

"He is fine, the medicine is working."

"How can you tell?"

"His skin is turning pink. And his breathing—it's shallower, not as labored. He's fine," Cato repeats.

"I'm still going to stay with him."

Cato bends down, clutching my elbow in his hand. I can tell he's impatient with the way I'm babying Peeta. "Leave him. Come talk strategy."

I snatch my arm back. "Don't tell me what to do! I said I'm staying here."

"Fine. You two take the left side, we'll take the right. Don't bother talking to me until common sense returns."

Perhaps I am acting a bit like a crazy woman, but he'd be the same way if his precious Glimmer had her leg half ripped off. It's true, Peeta does seem a bit better. He's probably safe to leave in the care of Glimmer. The sky is gradually growing less dark. Morning will soon be upon us. If we hurry, we can lay a few traps and maybe hunt a few of the nocturnal animals before they retire for the day. Reluctantly, I leave Peeta's side and cross the invisible barrier separating our side from Cato's.

"Help me hunt?" I won't apologize to Cato, I won't grovel. This is my only peace offering to him.

"Can Loverboy survive without you?"

"Look, if you want to eat you can help me. Last time I checked district one and two weren't the most skilled hunters on the planet."

"That depends on the species you're referencing." Cato's lips morph to a sadistic grin. He's disgusting.

I ignore him and address Glimmer. "Watch Peeta and don't get any ideas. I'll know if you kill him." I point at the sky.

Glimmer glances at me and nods miserably. She won't kill him. She's still too affected from Marvel's death. Watching your district partner get ripped to pieces in front of you isn't exactly easy.

"Don't speak to her!" Cato positions himself between me and Glimmer. "Just leave her be."

"Alright, fine, let's just go." He's so damn protective of her. I can't take it. Jumping down from the Cornucopia, I load up my quiver with arrows and find some rope. This is going to be a long morning.


Cato is useless at hunting. He has no sense of direction and he can't follow tracks to save his life. When I set up traps he only sits and watches me, lifting no finger to help. Through divine providence alone, I've managed to get two squirrels, but we need much, much more to sustain our entire party. Cato is too loud and frightens of all the game with his continuous stomping.

"Can you be any quieter?"

"What? I haven't said a word."

"It's your feet. You just stomp around all the time, like this…" I hunch over and imitate the way he walks, screwing my face into the largest scowl I can muster.

He crosses his arms. "I do not look like that."

"You do, and just like it scares people, it scares the animals. You might as well just announce to the entire forest 'Cato and Katniss are here, please run away!'"

"I've never done this before, okay? Let's just stop for a bit and eat some of the meat. I'm starving."

"No, I have to get back to Peeta. He needs food."

"Good god woman. HE IS FINE. He's going to die eventually anyways." He rips the squirrels from my shoulder and trudges into a small clearing where he begins to gather firewood.

"You are impossible." I take the sticks from him and pile them into a tepee.

"I know how to build a fire. I'm not an idiot."

"That's debatable, given your skills in hunting."

"Look, we'll set up here, eat a bit, and rest a little. By the time we're done, hopefully we'll have gotten something in the traps and the rest of the animals will be used to me by then."

I smirk, biting my lip hard to keep from laughing. He really is one of the biggest morons I've ever met. Yes naturally, the animals will just turn a blind eye to our presence.

We work in silence for the next several minutes. He tends the fire as I skin, skewer, and roast the squirrels. I'm not partial to squirrel, but I can't deny that it smells delicious even to my own nose. I allow the meat to roast a few minutes longer than necessary, ensuring that the squirrels are nice and toasty.

When I hand Cato one of the squirrels, he rips into it without second thought. Like a giant bear he devours his prey, delicate bones crunching and clear juice dribbling down across his chin. Good thing he isn't Effie's tribute. She'd be having an absolute meltdown over his manners, regardless of the arena. I eat my portion with much more restraint.

He looks up at me every few seconds before returning to his squirrel. I mirror his actions. You could cut the tension with a knife. But it gives me an idea.

Our sponsors, or what's left of them anyway, had a nice little display of star-crossed love with my genuine freak-out over Peeta's injuries. Surely, a little variety couldn't hurt. A bit payback from this morning's sleeping bag incident might do Cato some good.

I resolve to go through with it before I allow myself to think about the consequences.

"You want the rest? I'm not hungry." I offer my remaining meat to him, deliberately licking my lips as I do so. I've watched Glimmer flirt enough times in the interviews. This should be easy.

He stares at me strangely, but takes the meat without further comment.

Normally, I would have shifted my gaze by now, but I fight natural instinct and continue to stare at him. First I start at his feet, working my eyes up slowly until I reach his abdomen. I take a good long time admiring his chest and shoulders, and finally meet his eyes. They are hard and shrewd, suspicious even. He's stopped chewing. Slowly he stands and moves closer to me.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I murmur. I look down, feigning innocence as he strides nearer, his boots and the thick muscles of his ham hock calves coming into view. Not gently, he takes my jaw in his hand and pulls my face up to his. I bite my lip intentionally, and place my hand on his bicep for balance. It tightens under my fingers. His whole body has gone rigid.

"Tell me."

I focus hard on what I'm about to do, praying that it seems authentic. I open my eyes wider, batting my lashes a bit, and feeling absolutely ridiculous as I do so. How can girls do this without feeling stupid? How does this even work on a man?

Whatever. I shake my head. For Prim, I'll do this. Suffering through a moment of unpleasantness is worth getting out of this arena alive.

"I just, I—"

"You what."

"I never thanked you for saving me. For letting me live." The words come in a breathy rush. I gulp as I finish the sentence and force myself to bat my eyelashes again.

"Well I didn't do it for you."

"I know, I know." I look at the ground, shuffling a bit closer to his body. "Still…thank you. I didn't expect you to be so…"

Right on cue he lifts my chin back up so I'm forced to find his eyes. There's curiosity in his. This is working like an absolute charm.

"You expected me to be a monster?" He spits the words harshly, echoing the name I called him days before. His jaw is tense, his eyes narrowed. At first I might have thought it was anger, but I know him better now. Cato is capable of being hurt.

I allow my hand to slide gradually up his shoulder, expecting him to bat it away. But he doesn't. He keeps his gaze fixed on mine, that strange expression still plastered in them.

"I didn't expect you to be so caring. But, I like you that way." I pause for dramatic effect. My fingers move higher, grazing his jaw as I whisper the last words, "thank you, Cato."

Closing my eyes tightly, and refusing to further debate my plan of action, I bring my lips gently against his. His face tightens under my hands and his grip on my back hardens as he tries to back away. But his resistance only lasts a second. Then the onslaught begins.

He captures my face in his huge hands, kissing me brutally, twisting his fingertips through my hair. In seconds, I've been pushed back against the trunk of a tree. And his hands are everywhere. On my face, my shoulders, my hips. His days old stubble abrades the tender skin on my chin and his skilled lips leave mine aching and swollen. I don't know how much more of this I can take. His warm tongue parts my lips, pressing gently against my teeth, requesting me to open my mouth for him. My hands squeeze his shoulders. I don't know if I can go there. If I do I know I'll be lost. He doesn't give me more time to decide. Soon he's invading my mouth, his tongue twisting mine into action with his own. Fuck. Why does this have to feel so damn good? With every slide of his hand, my legs grow weaker and my mouth more pliant. I'm like melting honey in his arms. I can feel it, he can feel it. And he loves it.

His kisses increase in pressure as he tilts my head back deeper into the cradle of his arm. I allow his tongue to slide across my lower lip, then the edge of his teeth graze the same spot. With absolutely no warning, he delivers one good bite. Oh. My. God.

My moan is so loud. It fills his open mouth. It fills the fucking forest. Hell, they've probably heard it all the way back in District 12. My whole body tightens as I realize the severity of what this means. I'm milliseconds from pushing him away, but he beats me to the punch. I'm slammed into the back of the tree as he steps back quickly, putting several feet between our bodies. He is panting with eyes saucers of lust, but his scowl betrays his true thoughts.

He raises his hand, pointing at me straight in the eye as he composes his face into the most serious expression possible.

"I fucking know what you're doing, Katniss."

"No—"

"Damn it. Just stop." He kicks a fallen log, embedding his boot into it, as he buries his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry." My voice is a whisper. "I didn't mean to."

He looks at me again and shakes his head. "Don't make me choose."

Choose? Now I'm genuinely confused. What the hell is he talking about? Hesitantly, I step toward him.

"No! Stay away from me. You just don't get it. I'll choose her every single time. No question about it."

Are you fucking kidding me? Glimmer. Somehow I just know it. This is what this is about. I force myself to take a deep breath in order to control my reaction. Remember Katniss: this is about sponsors, NOT Cato.

"I know," I nod my head once. "It's fine. I'll choose Peeta every time too."

He laughs humorlessly, the green eyed monster rearing its ugly head—a complete 180 from his Katniss-I-Will-Never-Pick-You speech. "Sweet, perfect Peeta. Of course, you wouldn't want a monster like me."

"I can see this was a mistake. I'll just go…"

"No don't be like this!"

"Like what? I'd said I'd leave!" Now I'm getting angry. Why does he have to be so damn unreasonable?

"Don't go all cold on me."

"It's better this way. I get it. Eventually you have to kill me right?"

"Right," he spits. "Make no mistake about that." He bends and retrieves his sword and disappears in the opposite direction, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the forest.

Well that could have gone better, but I suppose it accomplished its purpose. Operation Love Triangle is in effect.