When I open my eyes, Xander is still asleep in the corner. I sit up, my ears twitching at the faintest sound—a Mockingjay's warning call. It's at least midmorning. I spring to my feet, grabbing Xander's hand and tugging him along. Without hesitation, I leap through a hole in the cave wall, and Xander stumbles after me, still half-asleep.

The hole leads outside. I pull him into the shelter of a nearby bush and crouch low, my eyes darting back toward the cave. There they are—tributes. A group of them, searching the cave.

They're looking for someone. I watch, breath held, as they search the shadows, eyes flicking over every corner. For a moment, it seems like they'll leave, but then one of them—a boy—picks something up. A strand of hair. My hair. He holds it up, showing the others, and they laugh, congratulating him.

"Come on, she couldn't have gotten too far," says a girl.

So, they're looking for me. Why? I don't understand.

They move toward one of the other holes in the cave and exit. I growl under my breath, the sound low and feral.

"They're after me? Why?" I whisper, confusion knotting my stomach. "I didn't do anything. Did I?"

Xander yawns, blinking as he wakes fully. "I don't know. Maybe you've got a target on your back," he murmurs.

My growl deepens, more frustrated now. "Me? A target?" Sure, I killed two or three people during the bloodbath, saving Kai, but why would that make me a target? The others must have been more dangerous. Someone had a 10 as a score—so why would they come after me? Unless… unless the 10 is already dead.

Raven's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Hard to say. Maybe you pissed them off somehow." His words are grouchy, muffled by the tired hiss that vibrates in my ear.

"I didn't talk to anyone! I avoided everyone!" I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.

Raven pauses, and then, with a flick of his tail, he shakes his head. "Well then, I don't know why they're hunting you," he mutters.

I push myself up, my ears twitching at the faint sound of footsteps in the distance. They're gone for now, but I can still hear them, their movements echoing in my heightened senses. I don't wait—heading toward the pond.

I sit on the edge, staring into the water as I untie the parachute from my belt. My fingers tremble as I open it, pulling out the water bottle. I unscrew the cap, pressing it to my lips and drinking deeply, thirst gnawing at me. Once finished, I scoop water into the bottle and screw the cap back on, securing it before tucking it away in the parachute again.

Xander sits beside me, his gaze fixed on our reflection. I glance at mine. I almost laugh. With everything that's happening, I don't even look like I'm covered in hundreds of snakes, my jumpsuit clinging to my skin. For a second, I wonder if I'm losing my mind.

"Hungry?" I ask, glancing sideways at him.

He shakes his head, but then his stomach growls loudly. I can't help but smile, standing and stomping my foot. A parachute descends from the sky almost immediately, and Xander reaches out, catching it easily. He opens it, revealing pork—enough for both of us, and the snakes.

Xander pulls off a chunk and offers it to Raven, holding it out to him.

"I'm not eating that thing out of your hand!" Raven screeches, his voice high and disgusted.

Xander flinches, eyes wide, and looks at me, clearly baffled. "What did he say?"

I tilt my head, not wanting to reveal too much. "You didn't hear him?"

"No," Xander replies, glancing at Raven as though he's a mystery.

Only I can hear him, it seems. I smile inwardly, unsure if I'm glad or not. "He said thank you," I lie smoothly.

Raven glares at me from my wrist, but I hold his gaze until he flinches, looking away. Xander does the same. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

"What?" I ask innocently.

Xander pauses before answering, his eyes wide. "Your eyes… they—" He stops, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. "They turned red."

I blink. Then, slowly, I turn back to the water, my reflection staring back at me in disbelief. My eyes—they're red.

I blink and stare into the water, my reflection blurred by ripples. My eyes—they're glowing. Red. A soft, ember-like glow that fades as soon as I notice it, but it's there, unmistakable. My heart races in response, a feeling deep inside me, something new, something unnatural.

"Your eyes…" Xander's voice trembles, and I can hear the worry in it. "They're… red."

I reach up instinctively, brushing my fingers over my wolf ears. They twitch at the sound of his voice, at the energy in the air. Everything feels too sharp. I hear every rustle of the trees, the distant chirp of birds, the faintest shift in the breeze. My senses—sharpened to the extreme—pick up on it all, and it's almost overwhelming.

But it's not just my senses that are heightened. The air feels charged with something. Magic. Power. I feel it vibrating through my bones, pulsing beneath my skin. I have no idea what's happening, but I know something is changing. Something inside me is waking up.

I look down at my reflection again, trying to steady my breath. That's when I notice it. My hair—it's moving.

I gasp as I watch the strands of my hair shift, growing, stretching in slow motion. It's as if they have a mind of their own. They twist and coil around my fingers, like they're reaching for something—or someone. For a moment, I'm paralyzed, unable to process what's happening. This isn't normal. My hair has never done this before.

"Xander," I whisper, my voice strained, "look at my hair."

He turns, looking at me with wide, confused eyes. "What's happening? What is that?"

I don't know. I really don't know. But there's a strange, deep pull inside me, a tug of power, as if my hair is alive, like it's responding to my thoughts, to my emotions. And then, as if to prove me right, a strand of hair extends, reaching for the small cut on my arm. It brushes against the wound, and before I can even stop it, the wound begins to heal.

I flinch, pulling my arm away, my heart pounding. "It's healing me."

"Wait." Xander stares at me, his voice growing more panicked. "How—?"

"I—I don't know," I breathe, stunned. "I don't know how it's doing this. It just… is."

The hair slowly retracts, as if obeying some unseen command. The magical energy still hums within me, making the air feel heavy, thick with power.

"Are you okay?" Xander asks, stepping closer, his eyes scanning my face.

I can't answer him right away. I can feel it—the power inside me, flowing, shifting like it's just been unlocked, and I have no idea how to control it. It's not just the healing, though. It's the way my senses feel, like they've been turned up to a hundred. I hear every sound in the forest, every whisper of the wind, every movement around us. I feel everything.

I swallow hard, looking at my reflection in the water again. My eyes—still red. I don't understand it. This power, this magic, it's all so overwhelming.

Suddenly, I hear something. A voice. A whisper at first, so faint I almost think I imagined it.

It's time.

I freeze. My ears flicker, and I turn slowly. The ghosts. They're here, just like during the Reaping. I can feel their presence now, more clearly than before. They're whispering in the back of my mind, urging me forward, like they know something I don't. Watching.

I flinch as a strand of my hair moves again, almost of its own accord. It stretches toward me, instinctively. It's alive. It feels alive.

"What the hell is going on?" I hear Xander mutter, stepping back a few paces, clearly not sure whether to be worried or amazed.

Before I can respond, a cold shiver runs down my spine. There's more than just the ghosts now. I can feel something else—like a pull on my magic, drawing it toward something. I can't explain it, but I know this feeling. I've felt it before, just before everything in my life went upside down.

The tributes. They're coming.

I glance at Xander, my heart pounding in my chest. "They're close."

He looks at me, confused, but his eyes narrow when he sees the intensity in my face. He doesn't question me—he just starts scanning the area.

I feel the pull again, stronger this time, my senses sharpening. I can feel the vibrations in the air, the faintest rustle of leaves. The tributes are almost here. And now that I've felt this magic stirring inside me, I'm not sure I can hold it back anymore.

"I have to do something," I whisper to myself, more to calm my own nerves than anything else.

Raven—the strange creature I met yesterday—hisses from my wrist. His voice is harsh, almost panicked. "What are you doing? You can't just—"

"I don't know what I'm doing," I cut him off, feeling the power surge again, a dangerous pull in my chest. "But I have to. I can't sit here and wait. We need to go."

I stand, my legs shaky, still trying to get a grip on this new power inside me. My hair shifts again, curling around my fingers, like it's reacting to my need to move, to escape. The world is too loud, too alive.

Xander looks at me, eyes full of concern. "You're not sure what's going on, are you?"

I shake my head. "No. But I'm about to find out."

And with that, I take a step forward, feeling my hair twist and curl around my arms, my senses pushing me into overdrive as I begin to move.