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𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 3

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙨

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Wrenley could sense a revolution on the horizon, like orange and pinks swirling together forming a sunset.

She knew the path the districts were leading them down. She's heard the whispers nipping her neck like the biting wind. People were angry. People were hurt. They were done.

Wrenley Maue was in no way the spark that lit the match for the 'rebellion' so to speak. But she was gasoline, the golden liquid that added fuel to the fire.

You see, a thirteen year old winning the games brought harsh reality back into people's deception of what the Games truly are.

The reaping ceremony has always been ages twelve to eighteen. Children. Their names have always been plucked from the bowl and the younger tributes have always had about zero chance of surviving against the older teens. They were merely a means to an end.
There for a show and nothing else. No one really gave them a second thought.

But when a thirteen year old girl is found in the arena sobbing as she sang herself to sleep, when a girl that has barely been graced with mere adolescent and is a stranger to womanhood hears her name ring out in victory... then people start to allow it to sink in. And watching a young man who couldn't even walk forced to each district like a puppet on a string??? About did them in.

𓅫𓅫𓅫

Wrenley watches carefully from the doorway as Maverick adjusts the brace resting on his back. The girl has never been one of many words, rather she prefers to observe those around her. She knew today would be hard for him, she could tell the way his brow's creased, his hair slightly more disheveled than usual, his skin coated in a sheen of cold sweat.

"I know you're there." Maverick huffs, slipping on his jacket.

"Just checking to make sure you're okay. For today." Wrenley replies, sliding her hands down her pants, her palms sweaty and clammy all at once.

The twisted memories of last year's Victory Tour play through both Baird siblings minds like a screeching record. Wrenley couldn't look at Maverick without seeing the metal brace running from his spine to his neck. She was furious he had to follow through with the tour at all, just another one of the Capitol's sick little games, a reminder to the Victor's that there is no victory to be held, that they never won anything other than a lifetime of misery and agonizing, constant reminders.

That is what the Victory Tour was created for. Its purpose is to remind those that the Capitol is in control. To force the fear to remain down people's throats. To remind the districts for what is to come in the next few months... the next reaping ceremony to start the merry-go-round of nightmares all over again. It's a vicious, never-ending cycle, that always holds the same results.

It's why the Victory Tour is held perfectly between the previous Games and the reaping ceremony. The iron-grip that the Capitol remains only squeezes further, puncturing any wish of breathing all together.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Maverick asks, a warm smile ghosting his lips. He always puts on a brave face for his family. And Wrenley saw right through it. Every time.

She sighs through her nose. The clock ticking, the sickening sound of Maverick's spine cracking, the livestock outside... every single sound overstimulating her senses as she forces her eye not to twitch.

She bites back any brash response, answering carefully. "It's the first since your own." Wrenley puts simply. Since his Victory Tour that he was forced to follow through with, although he couldn't even walk.

Her jaw clenched in anger at the thought.

"Hey." Maverick says softly, moving slowly over to her. "Está bien." He rests his hand on his shoulder, his brows acting as the hint of pain as he does. "I'm right here. My tour is over."

Wrenley Maue nods slowly, subconsciously gnawing on the inside flesh of her cheek. Maverick's Game effected her more than she'll ever let on, having not watched Kane's Game in real time, it was the first time she had to watch one the only people she loves, her family, her brother suffer what she went through at such a young age, just as Kane did before them.

It was as if the Zavala Family's cursed... all three children, one after one another every few years. It was a cruel joke placed upon their family, but each Zavala sibling clawed their way to Victory, not allowing their mother to ever have to go through the twisted hell of losing one of her children.

"Lo es?" Wrenley lets slip, the words ringing heavily in the air. They both knew the answer.

The Victory Tour was only the beginning of a never ending ride.

𓅫𓅫𓅫

The wooden door creeks as Wrenley pushes her way out to the back patio, letting the door cry as it slams shut behind her.

After her daunting question she excused herself for some fresh air and immediately hurried out to catch her breath. Her grip tightens around the wooden frame of the worn porch as she hunches over slightly, clutching at her chest with the other.

She hated it. Lord, did she hate it. She hated when the Victory Tour stopped in her Disctict. Being one of the first stops meant it was over quick, but it was still a whisper of horror that nipped at her neck. As a Victor, adjacent on your own platform as you watch the families of the fallen tributes have to stand there and listen to the one who made instead of your child. To listen to the one who took your child's life even...

As the disingenuous words are said through the mic and those families are there to watch and listen... rarely was there ever a Victor who made the speech sound anything other than.

A small piece of paper drops at Wrenley Maue's feet, a well-timed distraction from her never-ending thoughts. She smiles faintly watching the bird draw further and further away before she reaches down, pinching her leg to cease the shake of her wrist while her fingers graze the parchment.

She snaps off the familiar seal, use to the sight at this point and opens the folds to reveal the ink soaked into the page, and traces her fingers over each word pausing when she reaches the signature at the bottom.

CXS.

Caius Xandros Snow.

𓅫𓅫𓅫

𝟶ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʙɪsᴄᴜɪᴛ𝟽 sᴘᴇᴀᴋs!

Hey, heyyyy... long time no see ;)

I FINALLY finished this chapter!! It's been started since before WP deleted this book back in April & I've been working on it off & on since getting this book back in June lmao, buttt... IT'S FINALLY HERE!!

I've been dying to update this book since republishing it & thought what better day than tbosbas 1yr anniversary... (which was yesterday lmao, so one day late bc I was working on some finishing touches & was TIREDDDD last night lmao)

ANYWAYSSS... hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!! Got a little more insight on Maverick & some Maverick lore + him & Wrenley's relationship which I'm so excited to get into more!! Anddd... had to leave y'all on a cliffhanger after pulling y'all back in 🤭 bc I AM that devious hahaha.

Don't forget to comment your thoughts, questions, & reactionssss!! I seriously cannot waittt to dive more into this book y'all!! Even a yr later the PLANS I have... OMGGG!! So stay tuned & thank y'all SO much for 700+ readssss!!!

Until next time, may the odds be ever in your favor <3