District Eight Hunger Games Novels & Stories

Each district is led by an alpha, but those twelve alphas are under the rule of the Supreme Alpha, or the chief in command of the entire city. I was never given a chance to visit other districts as Alpha Roger didn’t allow me to. It was one of those rules he strictly wanted me to follow, and I listened. I had always listened to him ever since. After all, he’s the father I have known since I was eight, and I’ve always looked up to him. “Where am I? What district?” I asked. “Fifth,” Fred answered. “You’re in Raven Village.” Fifth district. So I’m still close to my pack. But they must have stopped hunting for me, right? They surely wouldn’t think that a wolfless girl like me would survive that.

When she saw me approach, she only eyed me long enough to see what I'd scored, before returning to a book she must have snuck into one of the baskets from earlier. The Hunger Games. I knew the premise enough to know it was part of an extensive challenge between morals and survival that seemed to have her immersed enough to focus exclusively on the writing beneath her gaze. But while I began to skin and prepare dinner, I realized she was using it as a distraction as she didn't do as much as flip a page. She was simply debating breaking our silence or remaining obstinate.

They were on their way home when Raven received a call from her siblings. Her youngest sister was sick, so they first went to the house where Raven’s siblings lived. What they didn’t expect was the place they went to. It was a squatters area where the house was leaning toward each other. Many people are living there and only an alley is accessible. There are also many bystanders sitting outside their homes or the store. Some were drinking alcohol, some were shirtless, and some were shouting, fighting, and gossiping. It was all new for Cael and Kyra who grew up in an orderly place, like the village where they live.

Every pulse of pain shoved them further apart. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. The same demand, every night since the calm broke. I pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets and breathed through my teeth. "Marcus." My beta appeared in the doorway. He'd been waiting. He always waited on these nights. "The tributes," I said. "Is there one who resembles her." He didn't ask who. "The girl from the eastern valley. Dark hair, similar build. Not exact." "Close enough. Bring her."

Anya, cloaked in darkness and her newfound determination, navigated the maze, her senses on high alert. District 13 was a different beast entirely. Towering, dilapidated buildings cast long shadows, and the air hung heavy with the stench of garbage and decay. Stray dogs scavenged through piles of refuse, their mournful howls echoing in the deserted streets. Anya's stomach growled, the reminder of her hunger a constant companion.

He shouted loudly, trying to catch my attention in the distance. "Explain this to me! Are you all playing some kind of joke on me?!" His outburst drew the attention of nearby guests. But the hall was filled with noise and chatter—his voice never reached me or Devon. Lauren let out a cold laugh and sneered, "What's there to explain? Mason, do you even know how many chances Madison gave you? Can you count them? For eight years, she guarded your promise and waited. You didn't want to get married—that's your business. But what right did you have to make her wait for a ninth year?