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Coriolanus Snow had always prided himself in never being thrown off kilter. His feet were firmly planted in the ground, each step he took steady and calculated. He anticipated every single outcome before he said or did anything. It wasn’t a life he’d had chosen but one that was thrown at him. Afterall, he didn’t want to end up like his father—leaving behind a penniless, powerless legacy.
He would provide for Tigress. For Grandmam.
More than anything, he would have power. He would grab it by the reigns like a wild bull trying to buck him off and he would pull the ropes taut until it dug into the bull’s skin, searing it like a burn. He would tame it. It would be his. Come fire or brimstone, that would be the way his story would be written.
She was a means to an end.
That much he believed wholeheartedly.
She needed him as much as he needed her. If not more. Coriolanus couldn’t say whether her desperation to live outweighed his own for power.
Either way, her voice would sing him to the Plinth scholarship.
Lucy Gray Baird was his songbird to use as he pleased.
Yet, here in the quiet moment before she was to be sent to the arena, Coriolanus felt like he was standing in the eye of the storm. Her eyes were large, nearly eating her face, her lips pulled into a defiant line, but she wasn’t fooling him. Despite the night surrounding them, he could see the tears trapped behind her eyes.
He gave her the rat poison, hidden in the compact, and whispered to her the instructions, injecting the right amount of concern into every word. Her gaze turned soft, and in turn something inside him began to give.
He frowned to himself. Confused. Were traveling musicians also known for their seductions? She certainly did enthrall the Capitol when she sang but did that extend to her gazes and glances and stares? And why were those same lips looking so plump and inviting right now?
“Coriolanus,” she breathed out, her hands tightening around the bars that separated them.
His pulse fluttered for a second before settling. This was good. Her infatuation with him would mean she’d obey him.
“You run. Do you understand?” he said earnestly, and let his fingers brush over hers that were grabbing the rails.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
Something shifted in the air, and she leaned forward a fraction.
Coriolanus froze, watching the space grow smaller and smaller between them. Her lips—those luscious lips—were inches away from his own.
He would let her kiss him if it weren’t for the fact she hadn’t showered in a few days due to her being in the zoo. So he told himself.
He broke the tension by tilting his head away.
Disappointment flickered in her eyes, but just for a flash.
Not knowing what to say, Coriolanus stood and walked away back to his home. His hands were in fists, and he berated himself. He should have let her kiss him. He shouldn’t have let his thoughts get ahead of him. Feelings were fickle. Especially at an early stage like this. Now who knows what she’ll do.
She didn’t run.
Coriolanus gritted his teeth.
Yes, he should have definitely let her kiss him. She would have fancied herself with him and not risking her life for the boy from her district. She wouldn’t be able to carry him if he collapsed, and the boy looked like he was nearly about to.
Students and mentors came and went but Coriolanus stayed there, watching. The longer Coriolanus watched her, the more the something inside him gave away more.
The district boy was long gone and now the pack was after her.
He knew he put on the show Gaul wanted. Even if Lucy Gray Baird were to die, he was confident enough that not even Dean Casca would be able to take away his victory. She sang live, making the whole nation cry. She showed compassion to her friend who was riddled with rabies, mourning him appropriately. Not in the way the other boy desecrated the Capitol’s flag like that. There was order to Lucy Gray. A quiet rebelling that didn’t make the viewers uncomfortable. In fact, they rooted for her.
What she did was give hope.
And that’s what he told himself when he was running towards Gaul’s laboratory. He was saving her because it would benefit him. His songbird would sing for him and him only.
It’s what he told himself when he soaked his father’s handkerchief with his blood and smuggled it inside the opening of the snake chamber.
Though what possessed him to shout let her out while she sang to the snakes, he couldn’t quite say. Couldn’t quite justify it or explain it.
Not even the explosion of relief and joy when Gaul nodded.
Couldn’t even explain the emptiness in his heart when instead of seeing Lucy Gray, it was the compact and the handkerchief. His parents were his downfall as he always thought they would be. But it wasn’t even about being found out he cheated, it was the agony of not knowing whether Lucy Gray Baird was alive or not.
“District 12,” he said in a rough voice, sliding the very last of his savings towards the officer. “Send me to 12.”
He was glad to see Sejanus though he’d never tell him that. Yet, he didn’t hear one word being said throughout the whole journey. His mind whirring, and he found himself praying she’d be alive. A fanciful notion as he’d never prayed before. Not since the war.
He didn’t look for her. Didn’t allow himself to. While Lucy Gray occupied his superficial thoughts, his subconscious was already planning his return to the Capitol. Now after she won, Lucy Gray wouldn’t bring him any more victories. Her use was done and gone.
And yet… yet…
Here she was singing on stage, her guitar swinging from side to side.
And Coriolanus felt a rush running through him, making his head light as if the air was thin. The something in him finally gave away and he could hear it falling, falling, falling.
When she met his eyes, he could see her blink, hear the hitch in her voice before a wide grin spread across her lips. And he couldn’t help the smile on his own.
That was his songbird.
Did she know that?
She must with the way she was smiling at him.
But before he could step closer to the stage, someone bumped into him rather harshly.
A boy not much older than him was shouting at the stage, at Lucy Gray. Her face had gone pale, the smile gone from her lips as she stepped back.
Anger simmered in his blood and burned when he realized it was Billy Taupe. Her ex. The one who cheated on her.
Coriolanus knew he was a possessive man. Knew that he wanted what belonged to him to stay that way.
And Lucy Gray Baird was his songbird.
She belonged to him.
Did she know that?
The anger broke when Billy Taupe lunged at her. And before he knew it, Coriolanus’s fist was slamming against Billy Taupe’s jaw. The boy fell back, laying still.
Coriolanus looked at Lucy Gray to see a wild look in her eyes.
She immediately grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the mob that erupted between the people. They ran through a narrow hallway before she stopped abruptly in front of a wall that didn’t look much different from the surrounding wall. Using her elbow, she slammed it into a specific spot that made the wall groan. It wasn’t a wall but a door.
“Quickly!” she said, pushing him inside before climbing in after him and fixing the door to become a wall again.
He glanced around, taking in the room. It was small, a little snug, and not at all what he was used to at the Capitol. It wasn’t exactly furnished but with what it had; it was modest. A small cot lay on the ground that looked like it had been used often. Coriolanus loathed to think of the diseases it was probably ridden with. Come to think of it, this whole place was utterly ungodly.
Lucy Gray cleared her throat and he glanced at her, forgetting all his thoughts.
“How come you’re here?” she asked but there was no anger in her tone. She sounded… hopeful.
He smiled, taking a step toward her. She stood her ground. “I asked.”
She eyed him curiously. “Asked.”
“Well, I had to make sure the songbird made it out alive.”
“Your hair,” she said simply.
He ran a hand through his buzzcut. “Peacekeeper.”
Nearer to her, he could see that her emotions were turbulent under her skin. She raised her hands which were somewhat trembling, and they hovered over his cheeks.
“When I didn’t see you after the arena,” she began, taking in a shaky breath. “I thought you’d died. But your dean, he said… he told me I survived you.”
She watched him carefully, assessing his reaction. If he’d lied or tell the truth.
A lie served no purpose here. After all, she killed as well.
“He showed you the video of the boy I killed,” Coriolanus whispered and something like relief broke against the surface of her face.
She nodded.
“It was him or me,” he continued. He could still hear the squelch of slippery blood against the pavement. The feel of the heaviness of the bludger in his hands. The way the boy’s flesh gave in easy.
Coriolanus turned away, a hand covering his mouth as he felt his stomach turn. He didn’t want to remember that. Sacrifices had to be made, yes, but it wasn’t as if he enjoyed them. He wasn’t a psychopath.
Lucy Gray’s warm hands were on his cheeks, and she brought him back to her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, their foreheads touching. “No one blames you. You did what you had to do.”
He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
“And you saved me from Billy Taupe tonight,” she said, laughing lightly but there was still a certain strained tone to her voice.
“What was he doing there?” Coriolanus asked, a streak of something dark stabbing him in the chest. He should have gouged the boy’s eyes out.
She shrugged. “Now why would I know? I hadn’t heard from him since I came back.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you want to?”
She frowned. “No. What is that question?”
“Just a curious one.”
She snorted, crossing her fingers. “You’re jealous.”
It took a second for that word to settle into him.
“Amazing,” she said in a low voice. “So, I try to kiss you and you reject me. And now you’re jealous when my ex-boyfriend tries to attack me?”
Her wide eyes were huge, the brown in them nearly black in this poorly lit room. Her dress was snug around her, hugging her waist in a way that made him want to rip it off her and put his own hands there. Her lips were slightly parted with admonishment, and he knew she was blushing even though he couldn’t see it in the shade.
“I am jealous,” he finally said, and she blinked, surprised. “I should have ripped his tongue out, so he doesn’t even speak to you.”
She scoffed, lightly pushing his chest. “Stop it now with the dramatics.”
He caught her hands in one tight grip, and she stared at him.
“I’m not being dramatic,” he said, taking a step towards her and she took a step back, her hands still captive in his.
She was finally against the wall but didn’t look the least bit bothered.
And it went straight to his head, making him sweat. Coriolanus had never been with a girl before. There was no time in between trying to maintain the facade of his family’s power and Grandmam’s teachings of being a respectable boy. Coriolanus wouldn’t gamble with his future if he’d gotten some common woman pregnant.
But this was no common woman.
This was his songbird.
His Lucy Gray Baird.
Her expression was turning amused. Like she was waiting for wherever he was going to do next.
For some reason, it irritated him.
“Lucy Gray, I mean it,” he said, tightening his grip.
“You mean what?”
“I told you I’d keep you safe and alive. And I meant that. And I always will. So, if ripping Billy Taupe’s tongue would do that then I will.”
A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “What if I don’t want you to do that?”
He blinked slowly, taking a step back but didn’t let go of her hands.
“I heard stories around town. Billy’s been regretting what he’d done. Finally seeing what Mayfair did to me.”
Her voice sounded garbled in his ears.
“But… he cheated.”
She grinned. “Oh, I’m not in love with him, darling. I just want to hurt Mayfair.”
Somehow that didn’t make him feel less horrible.
“No,” he said in a hard voice.
She raised her eyebrows.
“No,” he repeated to nothing in particular. He might not have been with a girl before, but he’d be damned if he left his Lucy Gray to touch another man that wasn’t him.
Before she could say anything or even laugh at him, Coriolanus crashed his lips over hers. He’d kissed girls before though Grandmam would never know. He wasn’t a saint and while he was able to keep himself in check, stolen kisses were just that. Stolen and brief.
She gasped but he swallowed it. He kissed her with a bruising effect like he was trying to imprint himself on her. She kissed him back. He let her hands go where they fell to her sides so he could cradle her cheeks. Every inch of her was soft, and a hunger swelled in him to know if the rest of her was just as soft or softer.
He was beginning to get hard, the standard-issue pants he was given already tight now bordering on uncomfortable.
He knew he was a green boy and, disappointingly, behaving just as one.
But this was Lucy Gray Baird. Even if he were an experienced man, she would have reduced him to a mess.
She didn’t do anything with her hands while he fondled her breasts over her dress, then inched his fingers along her upper thigh, trying to find more skin to touch.
Instead, he found them tickling the point between her legs. Her panties there were dry, which he only had himself to kick in the face for.
He leaned back, feeling a flush of heat on his face. But she didn’t laugh at him. Didn’t even get angry.
“You’ve never been with anyone, have you?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice but not malicious.
Nevertheless, the heat deepened on his skin. There was a difference between knowing it and acknowledging it out loud. Coriolanus didn’t know how to answer. With a sinking heart, he realized she would know if he lied, as she must have been with others. Most definitely that bastard Billy Taupe. His body was betraying him, his fingers stiff, not knowing what to do.
The truth, even though a humiliation, was not as horrible as being caught in a lie.
But his voice wasn’t working, so he nodded.
A slow smile spread across her lips and she took his hand that was nestled between her.
“Then I’ll show you,” she whispered.
He was mesmerized, all traces of shame evaporating and lust was the only thing he felt. So much so, that it scared him. To Coriolanus, no feeling should ever trump his need for power. To land on top.
And yet, with Lucy Gray dipping his fingers under her panties, with him finally touching her, he would at that moment give up the world for her. He would beg her on his knees for a taste of her.
The thought nearly made him lose his balance if it weren’t for the warmth his fingers were currently stroking.
“Slowly,” Lucy Gray said, her eyelids drooping.
He did as she instructed, watching the way her face was changing. The tension all gone, her mouth going slack with pleasure, the way her chest heaved with every breath she took. She nudged her legs further apart and Coriolanus stepped even closer until he could hear her breathe.
She took his hand again, grasping two fingers before nudging them towards a point between her legs.
“Here, gently,” she said in a trembling voice. “Like this.”
Again, he did what she asked. She was soaking at this point, letting go of his fingers while he took control. She held on to his shoulders, dropping her face against his neck.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “Just like that.”
But Coriolanus didn’t want her hiding. He wanted to see what he was doing to her. See those eyes darken and darken until they become a black night sky.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, yanking her head back firmly but careful not to hurt her.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice rougher than he thought it would be.
Her eyes flew open, a certain glassiness shimmering in them.
He dug two fingers inside her, feeling her contract against him while his thumb was rubbing circles over where she told him to. That seemed to work as she moaned more, trying to get closer to him. She held on to him tightly until Coriolanus was sure he would wake to bruises.
She looked at him with such desperation, he felt his heart seize.
“I love you,” he said as the thought formed.
Her eyes widened with surprise.
He didn’t regret the words, felt them true in his heart and sweet on his tongue.
He loved her. Of course, he did.
She was his, wasn’t she? He kept her alive and she saved him.
“I l—” she panted.
He felt her convulse around his fingers, but he didn’t stop stroking until she became limp, her energy forsaking her.
He helped her sit against the wall before crouching in front of her, feeling immensely proud of himself. The pressure in his pants was painful but he ignored it. There was time for that later, but it wasn’t every day he’d see Lucy Gray like this.
She was spent, strands of her hair plastered to her forehead while she gulped in the air like she was drowning.
“Not bad for a first time,” she laughed weakly. Then she tilted her head to the side. “You love me?”
He chewed his tongue, the high he felt earlier ebbing away.
But it was love. Everything he did for her during the Games was for her. He imagined if she’d lost her life in the arena, and his heart nearly stopped.
Lucy Gray cupped his cheek, drawing him to her. “Meet me tomorrow at the oak tree.” She stood, brushing her dress down and ruffling her hair. “All right?”
He nodded, looking up at her.
She leaned down, pressing her lips on his cheek in a quiet kiss. “We don’t have much time left here,” she whispered in his ear. “But tomorrow, we’ll have more.”
And with that, she left, and he sat there for a while, not knowing how he ended up right there on the floor.
By the oak tree, she was singing. It was a morbid song, he thought. Hanging trees and necklaces of rope. He couldn’t say he cared for it. Such violent words didn’t belong on his songbird’s lips.
She didn’t bring up his confession and he was relieved.
The time she told him they’d have was cut short when the Peacemakers arrived, so she told him about the lake with the Coveys.
“We’ll be alone there,” she promised, twisting her fingers in his and bringing them to her lips.
It made his stomach lurch with excitement.
The lake was absolutely breathtaking. He hadn’t seen anything quite the same back in the Capitol where everything was metal and glass.
And there was Lucy Gray stripping down to her underwear, laughing as she walked backward. It was an invisible string between them, and he followed after her, taking off his shirt and pants.
The water was cool, but she was warm, clinging to him, her arms around his neck.
Her eyes were a deep brown, making him sink more and more to her. He couldn’t think of anything else when Lucy Gray was touching him like this.
“This could be our life,” she whispered while the Covey splashed a few ways from them. “The lake, the earth, the sky. I know… I know you want to go back. But this could be our life.”
He swallowed hard. It was indeed beautiful, but he couldn’t imagine waking up every morning not knowing if there was to be food that day. Living as someone nobody knows. He wanted the ivory towers, the softest linens, and the clothes tailored just for him.
“I don’t belong here,” he said. “You… you should come back with me.”
She withdrew a fraction, a sad smile on her lips. “What would I do in the Capitol? Slowly lose my humanity as children are butchered in the Games?”
He frowned, but before he could say anything, she untangled herself from him and waded back to shore. He followed her because the invisible string was always there. She might be made from the trees and soil in the Districts, but she was his.
She toweled herself quickly with a blanket before throwing it at him and he did the same.
“What—” he began but his words were cut off as she walked towards a cottage sitting by the lake. The wood looked relatively new, with white curtains covering the windows. She opened the door, giving him a look before walking inside.
It was modestly furnished, and everything looked handmade. Probably by the Covey. There was a bed in the corner, and a wooden mantlepiece boasting a few carved animal pieces. A rug on the floor made from some sort of fur.
“What are—” he tried again, but his words were cut off when Lucy Gray kissed him.
She clutched the sides of his neck, kissing him more and more while standing on her tiptoes. She was small in his hands, but she kept pushing him back towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the frame. He sat down abruptly and she climbed on his lap, rolling her hips against his.
He groaned, becoming immediately hard.
“Lucy Gray,” he finally said hoarsely when she began kissing his throat and jawline. “What are you doing?”
She leaned back, cradling his cheeks. Her wet hair was sticking to her cheeks, the brown of them so dark it was black, matching her eyes. The sunlight streaming from the windows turned her glistening skin golden. She was ethereal. Something from a fairy tale he read eons ago.
“I love you,” she whispered, and he could finally see the red on her cheeks.
He blinked, his breaths shaking.
She moved a hand along his body, and he felt goosebumps erupt all over him. “Can we… I would like…”
“Yes,” he said instantly.
She glanced up at him. “Are you sure?”
He nodded albeit a bit too quickly.
Her smile became mischievous, and she went back to kissing him.
Every thought in Coriolanus’s mind was focused on her. She was indeed softer than he’d thought. He didn’t even mind laying on this bed that was probably used by a hundred people before him. He didn’t mind it in the least when Lucy Gray removed her bra and underwear. Couldn’t quite think of anything more when she pushed him back, slid his shorts down, and palmed him.
He moaned, digging his fingers into the mattress, trying to keep himself grounded. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her yet.
She laughed lightly and his gaze snapped at her, embarrassment flaring in his blood.
“Take deep breaths,” she said, giving him a slow stroke and he groaned.
“I’m trying,” he gritted out.
“We could do this all day here,” she murmured, stroking him a couple more times and Coriolanus was sure he was about to come before he wanted to.
But just as suddenly, she stopped and straddled him, aligning him along her.
The head was just about in, and he felt like he might actually combust. When she sank down slowly, steadying herself on his chest, his eyes rolled at the back of his head. No pleasure would ever come close to this moment.
Lucy Gray grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her as she began to ride him.
“Is the Capitol worth it, Coriolanus Snow?” she heaved out.
He would agree to anything she wanted right about now. But deep down, he knew this pleasure as great as it was, was only fleeting.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Come with me, Lucy Gray.”
She shook her head and let out a keening sound when he covered her breast with his hand, teasing her nipple.
“I’m a musician. We don’t belong in confinements.”
“That’s what the Districts are,” he said, lifting his hips to match her speed, to feel more. “Lucy Gray, you love me. I love you. We’d be safe in the Capitol.”
She leaned down and kissed him long and slowly. It felt more like a goodbye kiss than anything else, and he clung to her, not wanting his songbird to fly away.
“I do,” she whispered. “I trust you wholeheartedly. I know you in my heart. That’s all that matters to me. Trust. Though let’s not speak of such things for now.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “What matters now is that we’re safe. We’re together. We’re here.”
He nodded.
But he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. In his bed. He didn’t want to leave her. Didn’t want there to be a moment in time where she would sing for someone else and warm their bed.
She was his songbird.
And if she were to leave, she would haunt him all his years.
She brought his hand between them, and he applied circles to the same point she showed him before. It didn’t take much until she was bucking over him, her breaths harsh, her moans echoing over the room.
He could feel his release drawing nearer but wouldn’t allow himself to come until she did.
“Coriolanus,” she breathed and he was in love with the way she moaned his name. He’d put her in a cage and have her moan it over and over again.
She dropped her head back, the tips of her curls tickling his thighs. The sight of her like that, breasts heaving and body taut with desire and release as she clenched around him drove him to his own ecstasy.
Trembling, he sought her, pulling her to him and she fell over him, her breaths laborious.
“Oh, that was wonderful,” she murmured against his jaw.
He held her close, his arms around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine, Lucy Gray Baird.”
She curled closer but didn’t answer her as sleep sank her deep into dreams.
But Coriolanus Snow couldn’t sleep. Instead, he listened to her breaths and thought of the ways he could have her crawl inside his bones and soul where she’d never leave.
The cracks in their relationship had become evident. They were on separate sides, trying to find one another, but the distance was too great.
Sejanus’s death was the final straw.
He’d done this.
He’d killed three people.
The song she’d written wasn’t about him, but it might as well be.
He would never be able to hear it again and not because of Billy Taupe.
All his dreams and ambitions were reduced to nothing the moment he’d pulled the trigger. The moment he sent that Jabberjay.
There was no life for him in the districts let alone the Capitol.
It was time to save himself. To save Lucy Gray.
He found her at dawn by the Hanging Tree, the nervousness rolling off her in waves. There was no one else but her. She trusted him completely.
And he wondered what would happen if he was able to spin the story, so she was the villain. If she was the orchestrator of all those deaths.
But then he’d watch her with a rope around her neck, the noose tightening, her legs fighting to find something solid to save her.
He shook his head. No. A lifeless Lucy Gray would not bring him joy.
“Any idea where we’re headed?” he asked when they left District 12 and were surrounded by the wild trees of the forests.
She shrugged, her eyes catching every leaf and blade of grass. “North. There must be people there, right? If not, then we’ll be the people.”
He nodded, watching the slope of her neck.
“Somewhere there’s no blood,” she continued. “I think I’d like that. My hands weren’t made for murder.”
She held her hand out with a sweet smile and he gladly took it, the softness of it giving him reprieve against the mellowness of his new life.
“Bodies are too weak,” he said. “It doesn’t take much to break necks or feel skin break when you stab them.”
She gives him an odd look before nodding.
“My dreams could do without those,” she said. “I see all the tributes every night.”
“Mine too,” he said. “Three lives are more than I can take.”
Droplets of rain began to patter on the ground, darkening the soil.
Lucy Gray stopped. “Three? Weren’t they two that you killed?”
His mind whirred, and his heartbeat thundered against his ears.
“Coriolanus Snow, who is the third?” she asked, her voice trembling.
She took back her hand and stepped away from her, mistrust welling in her eyes.
His heart squeezed with the pain of it, banishing Sejanus’s screams away from his mind. He did what was necessary.
“Me,” he said, smiling easily, walking over and lightly grabbing her chin. “I killed my old self. I left him behind.”
She blinked, the suspicion vanishing and her old smile came back.
She nodded but didn’t reach for his hand.
The rain was becoming fiercer, the drops slicing away along their skins.
“Let’s wait it out in the cottage,” she said, leading the way.
Coriolanus felt a change shift between them and at this moment, he didn’t know if he trusted her smile. The rain blurred her to him.
But he pushed those thoughts away.
At the cottage, his gaze was drawn to the bed, and he remembered how he’d slept with her on it a few weeks ago.
“We can stock on fish,” Lucy Gray said, squeezing the water out of her hair.
She looked just like she did that day in the lake, but now he could see the slight distrust in her expression.
“There are hunting tools there.” She nodded towards a false floorboard.
He knelt and when he removed it, his heart stopped beating.
There was the gun he used to kill that boy and girl.
The only evidence left against him.
Lucy Gray was watching him carefully, and he realized it was a test.
“You have them,” he said evenly.
“Yes,” she replied.
If he disposed of these guns, there would be nothing standing between him and the Capitol. He had that referral to District 2. He would be back in the Capitol before the end of the year.
He was running away with Lucy because his death was a possibility. But with the guns gone, there would be nothing linking him to the murders.
No one but Lucy Gray Baird that was.
“I’m going to dig up katniss,” she said, bringing him out of his thoughts.
He cleared his throat, the gun feeling heavy in his hands. “Didn’t you say it’s early?”
Her laugh was the same laugh he heard before. “There could be exceptions.”
He stood and he saw her flinch a bit.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, his voice coming out hard. “That I killed two.”
Lucy Gray backed against the door, her hand behind her on the knob. “Of course, I do.”
He tilted his head. “I did it to save you, Lucy Gray.”
“I know that,” she said, her eyes shining.
“But you’re leaving me.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie.”
His voice was like a whip crack against the horrid silence.
“I thought trust was everything to you,” he continued, taking a step toward her but she didn’t move.
“It is.”
He was in front of her, but there was no fear in her eyes despite the masked anger on his.
She was going to leave him. After everything he did for her. Why couldn’t she understand? He cheated in the Games for her. He killed for her.
“I told you,” he murmured, running a hand over her cheek, and she shivered, “I would do anything to keep you alive. I would kill for you. Is that so bad?”
“Maybe,” she whispered.
“In this world, you know it’s either kill or be killed.” His hand curled around her neck, and he pulled her close to him until her lips were inches away from his. “Lucy Gray, I have given up the world for you. Is that not enough?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You gave it up when you had nothing to lose.”
He let out a disbelieved laugh. “Everything I did was for you. And now you doubt me?”
She held her chin high. “I think you believe that.”
He sucked in a breath. “I love you.”
She swallowed hard. “And I love you.”
He grasped her cheeks, kissing her so deeply, she made a surprised sound at the back of her throat. He kissed her like he was asking her to believe him. He kissed her because he was angry. His world fell apart around him and the one girl who was supposed to be his was trying to escape from him. Did she not know she was his? He’d told her just that.
He backed her against the wall, pulling her lower lip with his teeth while his hands rummaged over her clothes. She was not embedded in his bones yet. He had to be her cage. He flung open the front of her dress, kneeling while trailing a path of kisses down her neck and between her breasts. She gasped holding on to the back of his head.
“Coriolanus,” she gasped. “More.”
She had the audacity, he thought. To ask him to pleasure her while thinking of running away from him.
He dragged her dress down along with her underthings, exposing her bare.
“You were going to leave me,” he said harshly. “You don’t get to leave me, Lucy Gray.”
He rubbed two fingers along her slit, and she moaned. “You have the gun. When it’s gone, you are free to go back to the Capitol. If anyone was going to leave anyone, it was you.”
He growled.
“Who was the third?” she whispered.
He ignored her question, covering her cunt with his mouth, and licked her until she was panting and whimpering.
He didn’t let her reach her release, instead pulling away just as her legs were trembling.
The rain around them was reaching a crescendo but he could barely hear it over the sound of Lucy Gray’s breaths.
“Who was the third?” she asked again, and he pulled her to where he was on the floor.
“I told you trust was everything to me,” she said, pain in her voice that slowly built to anger. “You destroyed that. You—”
He flipped her over, so she was on her hands and knees.
“And I told you I’d do anything for you,” he said, kneeling behind her and aligning his cock at her entrance. He teased her, barely touching her and she moaned. “I did what needed to be done.”
“You did what’s best for you,” she said and yet she tried pushing against him.
He grasped her waist and slid to the hilt in one stroke.
She let out a half scream, sliding down.
He pumped in and out of her at a steady pace, furious with how she was going to leave him. Furious with the events unfolding today.
“I can’t forgive this,” she said between each thrust. “I can’t trust you.”
“Why?” he panted, sliding his hand between them so he was cupping her breast. “Just because I killed a third person?”
“He was like your brother,” she said, her head dropped. “My turn is only a matter of time. You have the gun.”
He faltered. “I would never—”
She turned her head, eyes blazing into his. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow. But I will not die for you.”
He swallowed hard. So that’s how it was going to be. She would leave and find a life elsewhere beyond Panem. Perhaps a community that survived everything that’s happened. She’d meet a man, write her songs for him, kiss him, and bear his babies while he was in the Capitol without her.
To hell with that.
“You are mine,” he snarled, thrusting hard against her. “Wherever you go, you will always be mine.”
She moaned, arching her back and he threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her upright so she was flush against him.
“Mine,” he whispered in her ear. “My songbird.”
A low sob reverberated in her throat, and he felt his heart constrict.
“Yours,” she murmured and reached her hand behind her, cupping his cheek while his own one snaked to her throat.
He was mesmerized by the way she swallowed, the rise and fall of her thumping heartbeat.
“Everything was for you,” he pleaded. “Please, Lucy Gray.”
He kissed the point between her shoulder and neck, murmuring his love and adoration. She couldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t let her.
“I’ll follow you to the ends of this world,” he vowed, and even then, he could feel his gaze straying toward the gun.
She sighed, tilting her face so it was burrowed against the hollow of his neck, and raised her hips to reach her release.
Soon it was just the sound of flesh on flesh and their strained breaths and moans. It didn’t take long after that for their release to flood through their senses. Coriolanus almost blacked out from the sensation, but he held on tight to her lest she disappeared.
They lay on the floor, side by side, the cloud of anger and confusion clearing from their eyes and expressions.
She looked wild, with her untamed hair and bright eyes. Outside the rain still fell.
He wondered if it was raining in the Capitol.
Their legs were tangled with one another, the scarf he’d given her flimsily covering them.
She trailed her fingers along his face like she was commemorating his features to memory so her fingers would always know him. When she reached his lips, he kissed them.
“Now what?” he asked, heartbeat thrumming a bit too fast.
“Now we wait for the rain to stop,” she said, smiling.
He relaxed at the word “we”.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he asked.
“No one else’s,” she murmured. “All my songs belong to you.”
She leaned over and kissed him, sweet and soft.
The rain went on, and Coriolanus wondered about their life in the North. Maybe they’d walk too far away where there was nothing and he’d convince her to go back to the Capitol. Maybe if she saw how bleak the true wilderness was, she’d want to go back to something more familiar. He could give her immunity when he rose through the ranks. Especially if she was his wife. The whole situation was blamed on Sejanus and her name was cleared. She wasn’t even a suspect. They would become quite the power couple. The mentor and the victor. Yes, that was the life he deserved.
When Coriolanus opened his eyes, he found that the rain had stopped, a late afternoon sun bathing the cottage in gold. There was a quiet, save for the singing birds and right where Lucy Gray was supposed to be lying, was just the orange scarf.
He sat up, his blood chilling. “Lucy Gray?”
No answer.
She was gone.
For the many years to come, he thought of her. She slipped his mind like a ghost haunting him. He thought of her when he rose through the ranks. Thought of her on his wedding day. On his wedding night. He dreamed of her voice, of her songs. Wondered if she’d reached a settlement of outsiders or if the wilderness took her so that now only her bones decorated the forest floor. He thought of her at every Hunger Games. And she flickered through his mind, mischievous smile and twinkling eyes, when a girl from District 12 mockingly bowed the way she did.
He thought of her and hoped she’d died for the pain she caused him, but in the same breath, prayed she was all right.
She was an enigma. A fleeting moment in time.
And if it weren’t for the songs passed down in District 12 and the picture he had of her from the 10th Games, he would have thought he imagined her.
He thought of her until his lungs were filled with blood and he took his last breath, laughing.
He thought of her when the world forgot about her.