Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: Training is going to go a bit differently this time. I wanted to give every tribute a point of view, but if I did that with my usual format – one chapter for each day of training – there would be 15 or 16 povs in a chapter. That's a lot. So I decided to split each day in half – morning and evening, roughly – to make them a bit more manageable (for both reading and writing). Which adds up to six training chapters rather than three, but each is half the size – seven or eight tributes per chapter – so it evens out.

Also, please don't be disappointed if you don't see your tribute in this chapter ... or the next one, for that matter. It doesn't mean I don't like them. It just means they're getting their pov on a different day. Training chapters, for me, are largely dedicated to alliance-forming, and alliances don't (and shouldn't) all form on the first day.

So, now, without further ado, the first batch of tributes.

Training Day One – Morning
Emerge

Presley Delon, 13
District Six

She was still a bit groggy from the drugs.

Presley awoke to a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she lashed out, scratching and kicking as well as she could in her dazed state. Immediately, there was a cry of pain, and the hand withdrew. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Presley's vision slowly cleared a little. "I thought you were—" she started, but couldn't finish. In a haze, she'd thought he was Mr. Rafferty. But the headmaster's touch had never been so gentle – not even in the beginning.

"I'm sorry," Nicodemus repeated. "You were still asleep. I thought you might want some breakfast before training."

Breakfast. Training. Slowly, she pieced it together. "It's morning?"

"I'm afraid it is. How much do you remember?"

The memories came in bits and pieces. They'd brought her to the stylists. They'd wanted to…

Presley's hand flew to her head, searching for her hair. But there was only skin. Her hands, still shaking, traced her scalp from top to bottom, but stopped when they found an iron collar still fastened around her neck.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to leap out of her bed, track down every one of the stylists, and teach them a lesson the Capitol would never forget. But even sitting up took all her effort. They'd given her sedatives – a pretty high dose, judging by how foggy her brain felt. "How am I supposed to…" She wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. How am I supposed to train? or How am I supposed to kill anyone if I feel like this?

Nicodemus apparently decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume the former. "It'll wear off soon enough, I imagine. But if you start to give them trouble, they'll put you under again. That's no way to spend—"

He cut himself off, but she could hear the missing words. That's no way to spend your last days. If she went after the stylists – if she managed to kill one or two of them – the Gamemakers would see to it that she died. She may have already ruined her chances of coming out alive. She tucked her knees to her chest, shaking uncontrollably. "What can I do?"

Nicodemus laid a hand gently on her shoulder, and, this time, she didn't pull away. She simply sat there, shaking, wondering why he was here. He had five other tributes to worry about. Why waste time with the young murderer who had probably already sealed her fate?

"You want to fight them," Nicodemus said quietly. "You want to make them pay for what they did. What they're doing. I understand that. Believe me, I do. But that's not the only option."

"You want me to just give up?"

"No. Never."

"Then what? What's the other option?"

"The hardest one." His hand left her shoulder. He ran his fingers along one of his crippled legs, then patted the side of his wheelchair. "The Peacekeepers who did this to me … They were at the reaping. They carried me up to the stage and dumped me in front of the whole crowd. There was a part of me that wanted to fight back – to strike out at them, to break them the same way they had broken me. There was another part – a larger part – that wanted to just give up. To just lie there and let them win."

Presley nodded. "But you got up. I saw you." She smiled a little. "I was watching."

"Then you know I didn't strike back. But I didn't give up, either. I just got back in my chair and … and went on with my job. That's what you need to do now, Presley. Get up. Go on with your training. Be patient – just for a little while. Then, once you're in the arena … give them what they want to see."

Presley nodded. She could do that. She hoped she could.

And she was about to find out.

Kendall Rios, 18
District Four

"You've got to be kidding me."

Kendall stared in disgust at the outfit that lay on the bed: a shapeless grey shirt with a large, black "4" covering the front, baggy black pants that had been torn off just below the knees, and a rope that was meant either to hold the pants up or to strangle herself – she wasn't sure which. Both the pants and the shirt were several sizes too large for her, and she saw no sign of socks or shoes.

Kendall gritted her teeth. It was bad enough that the stylists had made fools of them during the chariot rides. Bad enough that an iron collar still hung around her neck, and bad enough that her head had been completely shaved. Now she had to go to training looking like a beggar.

Normally, she wouldn't have cared – not that much, at least. They were going into the arena, after all. After a few days, the ones who were still alive – even the Careers – would be plenty dirty and disheveled. That was how the Games worked. She'd known that when she volunteered. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was the other Careers.

Districts One and Two. The ones who would be watching her. Studying her. Deciding whether she should be allowed in their alliance. If she went to training looking like this…

But what was the alternative? She searched the closets, but found only underclothes. Maybe she could wear her nightclothes, but that would be even more ridiculous. For a moment, she even considered going naked. Brevin had discarded his own chariot outfit the night before, after all, in favor of nothing at all. But that was worse, as well.

So she would just have to deal with it.

Kendall clenched her fists. It wasn't that big a problem. She would have to deal with worse in the arena, after all. But the worst of it was that she shouldn't have been in this position at all. She should have been Naomi's first choice. Would have been her first choice, if her mentor had any sense.

Which was why she was glad Mavina had decided not to bother trying to join Districts One and Two. Not that they would have taken her, anyway, but, just in case they had – in case they were blind, just like Naomi – Kendall was glad she hadn't given them the choice. This way, when she killed Mavina, no one would suspect that it was anything but one Career pack attacking another.

When she killed Mavina.

There was no 'if' in her mind. It was just a matter of when she got the opportunity. Maybe during the bloodbath. Maybe later. But, one way or another, she would be the one to kill the little pretender.

But not yet. Tributes weren't allowed to even fight each other during training, to say nothing of trying to kill each other. So Kendall slipped into her hideous training outfit and joined the others for breakfast.

The other five were already there – Auster and Brevin at one end of the table, Jarlan, Imalia, and Mavina at the other. Brevin, Jarlan, and Imalia wore the same stupid outfit as Kendall. Mavina and Auster, on the other hand, wore skin-tight, navy blue shirts with a dark red stripe down each arm, and full-length black training pants, similarly striped. Black socks, black shoes. Each shirt had a small, red "4" embroidered on the left front side. Auster wore his proudly, while Mavina seemed to be embarrassed for wearing it while the others in her alliance were dressed in rags.

Or perhaps she simply knew it should have been Kendall's.

Kendall sat down beside Auster, ignoring the others as she ate her breakfast. It didn't matter. None of it. She could impress the other Careers despite her outfit, despite her collar, despite her shaved head and bare feet. Her training would have to speak for itself.

And she was about to put that to the test.

Naella Sareen, 18
District Two

"Nice of them to save us the trouble of splitting them."

Naella glanced at Jaime, who was watching the tributes from District Four. She and Inviticus had accepted Naella as an ally without question. They were less decisive about the tributes from Four, however.

Which, to some degree, made sense. District Four had six tributes. They could have formed their own pack. Instead, they had clearly split themselves into two groups of three. One group, clearly intent on joining Districts One and Two, had been showing off at the weapons stations for nearly an hour, knowing they were being watched. Judged. Evaluated.

The other group was chatting with Septimus.

Chatting was a relative term, of course. One of the boys from Four was doing most of the talking. Septimus' expression was neutral, but Naella had a feeling she knew where this conversation would go. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Septimus nodded his head and walked away. Whether that was a No thank you or an I'll think about it, Naella wasn't sure, but both were likely to turn out the same, in the end.

"We could just take all three," Jaime suggested, keeping her voice low despite their distance from the District Four tributes.

Naella didn't say anything, but, if she was being honest, that didn't sound like a bad idea. All three seemed to be more than capable. The larger boy – the blonde – didn't seem to have tired at all, despite sparring with one of the trainers for the better part of an hour. The smaller boy – although 'small' was relative – the one with the shaved head, seemed to have even more energy, flitting from one weapons station to another without stopping. A little swordplay, a little spear throwing, a little knife work. Versatility was good, especially in a year like this. The girl had spent an hour alternating between a mace, a club, and a flail, breaking apart dummies with ease and precision.

All three seemed like good options, but she wanted to hear what her allies had to say.

"We can't take all three," Inviticus grumbled. "They'll almost outnumber us."

"Okay, but we're clearly still in charge," Jaime pointed out. "Just look at the way they're showing off for us. They want us to accept them. Invite them into our group. If they wanted to form their own group, they could have, but they're asking to be let into ours. Why not let them?"

"Because they've already done what we wanted them to – split themselves up," Inviticus pointed out. "Just like you said. So why not keep it that way? The three of us, the three of them, and the other three. Three packs. What's wrong with that?"

Jaime cocked an eyebrow. "You really think it'll stay that way? If we reject all three of them, you think they're just going to sit there and take it? They'll probably just go back to their own district partners – and then there will be six of them and three of us. And, even if they do stay split, we'll be their first targets – out of anger and spite. Why make enemies when we can make allies?"

"Allies we can't trust."

Jaime sighed, exasperated. "You don't trust anyone. You barely trust Naella and me. It's like Jade said; we don't have to trust them forever. But right now, going into the Games, we need more allies." She turned to Naella. "What do you think?"

Naella watched them for a moment, thinking it through. She knew what she thought, but did she really want to say what she thought? Both were waiting for her. Both were counting on her.

And both were right – to some extent. Jaime was right about needing allies. Inviticus was right about being cautious – though perhaps not that cautious. There was caution, and there was paranoia. She didn't want to end up on the wrong side of Inviticus' paranoia. But she didn't want to end up with these two was her only allies, either. Either way, she lost.

Either way, she was about to make an enemy.

Inviticus Cassiano, 18
District One

"Jaime's right."

Inviticus opened his mouth to respond, but Naella kept right on talking. "We need allies. With forty-six tributes, do you really think the three of us are going to be able to go it alone? To hold the cornucopia and go out looking for tributes. When's the last time three Careers successfully held the cornucopia for any length of time even with the regular number of tributes?"

Inviticus crossed his arms. "Jade's year."

Naella nodded. "True, though, technically, neither of his allies was a Career by our standards. But that was thirty-five years ago. When else?"

"The Tenth Games," Jaime answered after a moment. "Thea and her allies. Stellar told me."

"Did she tell you who those allies were?" Naella asked in a tone that clearly said she already knew.

"Her district partner, Alicante. And Kaji – the boy from Seven. Their other two allies died in the bloodbath, but they managed to hold the cornucopia the entire Games. Kaji and Alicante left Thea to guard the cornucopia while they hunted."

"True," Naella agreed. "When else?" After a moment of silence, she answered her own question. "Naomi's year – the 14th Games. The only other Careers were the pair from One." She waited a moment. "So what's the difference?"

"The difference?" Inviticus repeated.

"Between then and now. The Seventh Games. The Tenth. The Fourteenth. A strong three-member Career pack hasn't happened since then. Why not?"

"More Careers," Jaime pointed out. "Jade's year, he was the only Career. There was one other boy who had trained Thea's year, but no alliances that really posed a threat to the Career pack after the bloodbath. Naomi's year, the tributes from One were the only other Careers."

"Exactly. There have been a few packs of four since then, but most of the time, it's five or six – sometimes more. If it's just the three of us, we won't be the biggest pack. Or the strongest pack. Especially this year. We won't even be close. If even one of District Four's tributes goes back to the other three after we reject them, they already outnumber us – and we've made ourselves their first target, when it should be the other way around."

"We should take the three of them," Jaime repeated. "Six of us. That's a good number. A strong pack."

Inviticus shook his head. "And what if I say no?"

Jaime glared right back. "Then maybe we'll take the three of them and leave you. Five of us. And then maybe you'll be our first target."

Inviticus almost said Go right ahead. But Jaime's glance made him think better of it. She wasn't bluffing. She would be more than happy to leave him behind.

Maybe it was better that way. Maybe having no allies at all was better than having allies he couldn't trust. If they were this ready to turn on him now...

No. No, he needed them – at least for the moment. Which meant that he would need to tolerate the allies they chose. He could always turn on them later. He could always kill them later.

And Jade was right; having them as allies might even make killing them easier.

"All right, then," Inviticus conceded. "We take the three of them. But no one else. Not District Five. Not the boy from Two. Just those three."

Jaime nodded. "Fair enough."

They settled into a resentful silence as they headed over to where the tributes from Four were still showing off at the weapons stations. The matter was decided – for now, at least. But now he had three more allies he wasn't sure he could trust.

And Naella and Jaime – could he even trust them? They had sided with each other, in favor of District Four. Against him. His own district partner had already turned against him. And an ally he had thought he could trust had backed her up.

He wasn't about to forget that.

Jaime Gloire, 18
District One

She had made the right choice.

Jaime flashed Naella a quick smile as the two of them made their way to the weapons station. Naella nodded back silently. Inviticus trailed behind, clearly disappointed, but, for the moment, willing to abide by Jaime and Naella's decision.

But for how long?

The three District Four tributes grouped up as Jaime, Naella, and Inviticus joined them. For a moment, there was an awkward silence. They all knew why they were there, but none of the District Four tributes wanted to be the first to say it. Jaime glanced at Inviticus, but he was still sulking behind the other two, clearly not about to make the invitation.

Maybe it was her job.

"We came to invite you to join our alliance," Jaime finally blurted out.

The bald-headed boy immediately started grinning from ear to ear. The girl simply nodded, satisfied. The blonde boy looked a little confused. "All three of us? I thought—"

"We accept," the girl interrupted before he could get any farther. "Kendall Rios."

"Brevin Tolett," said the bald boy.

"Auster Maverick," said the blonde.

Jaime nodded. "Jaime Gloire. This is Naella Sareen and Inviticus Cassiano."

Brevin whistled. "Inviticus Cassiano. That's a mouthful. Got a nickname?"

Inviticus glared. "No."

Brevin shook his head. "Shame. What if we need to warn you really quick or something – like Get out of the way, Inviti— Oh, no! Too late!"

"I wouldn't put myself in a position to rely on you for a warning," Inviticus growled.

Brevin shrugged. "That's what friends are for."

Inviticus looked about ready to throttle Brevin. "We may be temporary allies, Four, but we are not friends." He stormed over to the spear station to skewer a few dummies.

Jaime shrugged. "He'll be back." Part of her, though, was starting to hope that he wouldn't be. Starting to think that this alliance would be a lot easier to manage without her own district partner.

Jaime shook the thought from her head. That wasn't important right now. Right now, the important thing was getting to know her new allies. And the best way to do that was to test their loyalty. "So, your district partners," she started. "What can you tell me?"

Brevin looked a little uncomfortable. Auster gave a shrug, as if the others weren't important now. But Kendall spoke up immediately. "They've formed their own pack of three, but they're looking for more recruits. I saw them with the boy from Two earlier, but that didn't look too promising. My guess is they'll go for District Five next. So if you're considering offering them an alliance—"

Jaime shook her head. "We're not. This is it – you three and us three."

Auster nodded. "Fair enough."

"Who's leading their alliance?" Jaime asked.

"Jarlan, probably," Kendall offered. "But I haven't noticed any significant … internal disagreements," she finished with a glance at Inviticus.

Jaime nodded. "We're settling that."

"Mm-hmm."

"What about the first girl who volunteered?" Jaime asked, changing the subject. "What's her story?"

The look in Kendall's eyes let Jaime know she'd hit a nerve. But, after a moment of seething, Kendall answered. "Naomi initially chose Mavina's sister, Elira, to volunteer. Elira chickened out, but, instead of going with the next logical choice, Elira convinced them to choose her sister, instead. She has no idea what she's doing, but the others apparently haven't figured it out yet."

Jaime nodded. "So she's their weakest link."

"Definitely."

Good to know. Jaime glanced at Naella, who nodded approvingly. Jaime eyed her curiously. So far, she'd gone along with everything Jaime had said, deferring to her judgment. She'd even gone up against Inviticus to defend her choice of allies. Jaime may have lost her district partner's trust, but she'd gained three useful allies – at least in part thanks to Naella.

She wasn't about to forget that.

Brevin Tolett, 17
District Four

Someone had to be the weakest link.

Brevin smiled as he flung another knife at a dummy. For a moment, none of the rest mattered. The obnoxious training outfits didn't matter. The collar around his neck didn't matter. It didn't matter that he had upset one of his allies and that the others probably saw him as a useless goofball.

Someone had to be the useless goofball.

They would have realized it eventually – realized that he was the odd one out. Even Auster had seemed surprised when the invitation to join the alliance had been extended to all three of them – not just himself and Kendall. The rest of them were eighteen. The rest of them had been the trainers' first choice for a volunteer – or should have been, in Kendall's case. He was the one who had volunteered on a whim, the seventeen-year-old who could have waited another year but had decided to take a chance.

He was the one they would never see coming.

No one would target him first. Jaime, Inviticus, and Naella wouldn't risk angering Auster and Kendall by going after him – at least not at first. The other alliances wouldn't see him as a threat; they would be able to tell he wasn't the leader of the pack. Exactly who was, Brevin wasn't sure. But it certainly wasn't him.

And that was just fine with him. Leaders of Career packs had a tendency to be targeted first – successfully or not. One of the first things Jaime had asked, after all, was who was leading the other alliance. If they could take out Jarlan, his alliance would probably fall. If another alliance went after Brevin, they got nothing. They would target Jaime, or Inviticus, or maybe even Auster or Kendall. Hell, they would probably target Naella before they got around to him.

So maybe he was the weakest link. But he had made the right decision – joining their pack rather than Jarlan's. He was useful enough for them to accept, but not intimidating enough for them to consider him a threat. Perfect.

Brevin threw another knife, then headed back to the sword station and lost himself in the repetitiveness of hacking at dummies. For a while, he felt like he was back at the training center. Just another day of training with the other hopeful teenagers of District Four, waiting to be picked for the fight of his life.

For half a moment, he wished he was back at the training center.

Brevin shook the thought from his head as he struck down another dummy. He couldn't afford to start thinking like that. Not now. He was here. He had volunteered for this.

He wanted this.

Didn't he?

Brevin slashed at another dummy, imagining. Imagining that he was already in the Games, striking down not a dummy, but a living, breathing person. He slashed again; it wouldn't be living for long.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a tribute. One of the outer-district girls, with a shaved head and a large "9" on her baggy shirt. Watching him with bright green eyes. Pretending not to watch. Pretending not to be interested.

Pretending not to be afraid.

For a moment, Brevin returned her gaze. The girl couldn't be more than fifteen – no older than his own sister, London. What color hair had she had before they'd shaved it all off? Was it the same dark brown as his sister's?

Probably not. Brevin shook his head as the girl looked away. Why had the thought even occurred to him? His sister wasn't in the Games. His sister would probably never be in the Games. Even if she was picked, someone would volunteer.

Someone like him.

Brevin turned back to the dummy, but, for the first time in years, his heart wasn't in it. The dummy suddenly looked less like an armed opponent and more like a fifteen-year-old girl. More like his sister. He raised his sword, and struck once. Twice.

He was about to slice the dummy in half when the bell rang for lunch.

Auster Maverick, 18
District Four

It seemed almost too easy.

Auster sat down with Jaime, Naella, Kendall, and Brevin at a table in the center of the room. After a moment, even Inviticus decided to join them. Getting the other Careers to accept them hadn't been anywhere near as difficult as he'd imagined. In fact, he was beginning to wonder what would have happened if they'd asked the others to take all the tributes from Four. Was Jarlan right? Should they have stuck together – all or none?

No. No, they would never have accepted all of them. But the way they'd accepted Brevin without question made him think twice. Auster himself had probably been an easy decision; he'd clearly been the mentors' first choice to volunteer. And Kendall could have been, if the trainers hadn't been so insistent about keeping the volunteer in Elira's family. But Brevin … What made him a better choice than Jarlan or Imalia? Could they have gotten in, too?

And if they could…

Auster glanced around at the other tributes. Bald heads and heads of hair. Stylish outfits and rags. Were the Gamemakers trying to split them apart? Make them turn on each other? If so, it certainly didn't seem to be working among the Careers. Brevin and Kendall had been accepted despite their collars and rags. Jarlan and Imalia hadn't shown any resentment towards Mavina.

A few of the outer districts had started to form small groups, as well. Five of the tributes from District Six sat together in a group, though not all of them seemed happy with that arrangement. The red-haired girl – the only girl who still had hair – was glancing around nervously, as if her allies might turn on her at any moment. One of the other girls looked just as uneasy, but the other one was smiling contentedly – almost as if she wasn't a contestant in a fight to the death.

At a table in the corner, the pair from Twelve was eating together. The boy and older girl from Nine sat a few tables away. Two of the girls from Eight – a large blonde and a twiggy girl without hair – were chatting away in another corner while they both watched the other tributes. The three younger tributes from District Eleven were clearly a group – though certainly not one he was concerned about.

And the pair from Five was headed towards them.

Auster glanced around the table as the boy and girl approached. The boy smiled politely. "Is this table full?"

"Yes." The reply came from Inviticus and Kendall at once. Auster glanced at his district partner, who shrugged. Maybe she was simply trying to agree with their new allies. Stay on their good side. But was there really any harm in letting the two eat lunch with them?

The girl's face turned beet red; that was clearly not the answer she had been expecting. But although it hadn't been the most polite way of phrasing it, at least they weren't sending mixed signals. Both of them took the hint and left.

Just like that.

Maybe getting into the Career pack wasn't so easy.

But he was in. And Kendall and Brevin. Half of District Four. And the other half hadn't wanted to be included, anyway. They'd made their own choice.

A choice that made them enemies. Allies came before district loyalty; Kendall had made that clear earlier when she'd spilled as much information as she could about the others. And why not? They didn't know Jarlan or Imalia or Mavina – not really. The fact that they came from the same district didn't mean anything. They were competition now, just like everyone else.

Weren't they?

They would certainly see it that way. Jarlan wouldn't see Auster, Kendall, and Brevin as anything but targets now. Nothing but three more members of the Career pack. A Career pack that rivaled his own. And only one could win.

No. No, that was wrong. Career packs didn't win. One tribute did. One. In the end, allies didn't matter any more than district loyalty.

He wasn't about to let either get in his way.

Zachary Travelle, 17
District Five

At least now they knew where they stood.

Zach settled into a seat across the table from Liana. "I guess that's that."

Liana looked up, surprised. "That's it? We're just giving up?"

Zach shrugged. "You heard them. They don't want us. If we pester them for three days, we may eventually be able to talk them into letting us join them, but then what? We'll be the tag-alongs, the ones they didn't want from the start. And then they'll turn on us at the first opportunity – just like they did to Camden."

"So we … what? Form our own pack?"

"Or join the other one. The tributes from Four. They may be a bit more … open-minded."

"Desperate," Liana translated. "They're the ones the others didn't want. Why should we?"

"Because we're also the ones the others didn't want," Zach pointed out. "And if we try to form our own pack … Who's left? Maybe the boy from Two. Not much of a pack – not when the other group has six. But if we join District Four—"

"Three of them, two of us," Liana reasoned. "That's five. Even with the boy from Two, that's six – at the most."

"That's a lot better than three."

"But less than eight – which is what we would have if we join the main pack."

Zach shook his head. "They don't want us. They made that pretty clear. And remember what Harakuise said on the train. We don't want to end up outside a pack."

"He also said to wait," Liana pointed out.

"To wait and see what groups form. But they already have. And we don't really have much of a choice."

Liana shook her head. "There's always a choice."

"What choice?"

"I don't know," Liana admitted. "But I think we should wait."

Maybe she was right. But there was a part of him that didn't want to wait any more – not if it could mean losing the chance at an alliance. At the very least, it certainly wouldn't hurt to introduce himself. Maybe find out how receptive the other alliance would be…

Slowly, Zach stood up, taking his plate with him. "Wait here if you want. I'm going to talk to District Four."

They didn't seem surprised to see him. In fact, the boy was smiling warmly as he gestured to a chair. The smile was almost enough to distract Zach from his raggedy outfit, shaved head, and collar.

Almost.

"I was hoping you'd join us," the boy nodded. "Saves us the trouble of finding you. It's Zachary, right?"

"Zach."

"Good to meet you, Zach." The boy held out his hand, which Zach shook before taking a seat. "I'm Jarlan. This is Imalia and Mavina. Come to join our alliance?"

Zach blinked. "Excuse me?"

Jarlan shrugged. "Well, admittedly, I've never done this before, but I was just assuming that when one Career joins another group of Careers at a table for lunch, you're not just here for the chit-chat. How long did it take District One to say no?"

Zach smiled wryly. "About five seconds."

Imalia nodded. "That's why we didn't ask. You're welcome to join us, Zach."

Welcome. That wasn't something he had expected. Not so soon. Not so easily. "Just like that?" What was the catch?

Jarlan smiled a little. "Just like that. And why not? We need more members. You need a pack. Sounds like a perfect match."

Zach smirked. "You try that line on the boy from Two?"

"He said he'd get back to us," Jarlan nodded. "I guess he's looking for a better option."

"So's my district partner," Zach admitted. "I don't think she realizes more Careers aren't going to just appear out of nowhere."

"Let's hope not," Jarlan laughed. "There are quite enough of us as it is."

That much was certainly true. Twelve Careers was more than enough. It meant the larger pack could afford to be choosy. But he couldn't be.

He wasn't about to lose this chance.

"You see this little hole? This moth's just about to emerge."