Finnick Hunger Games Novels & Stories

We all knew I wasn't his first pick as nurse, but Ronnie's hands were still shaking and Burney hadn't had enough practice for this type of wound. I tipped some of my bottled water over his shoulder, washing away the congealing blood. The puckered wound was a mess and tweezers or not, I couldn't get all the shrapnel out. Not that it mattered. The HG was lethally toxic, it was only a matter of time before he died. I focused on the needle in my hand, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Stan was gone, Mike wasn't far off and with each of their deaths, Nick was slipping further and further from my grasp. "Are you sure you want me to stitch you up? The wound's not clean."

My mate, Ethan Rickman, is an Omega without a wolf. No official position is willing to hire him. That means we live in poverty, but I've always believed that our love can overcome anything. Seven years after our mating, hunger drives me and our son, Theo Rickman, to dig through trash bins late at night, looking for food. Theo moves quickly and quietly. He's become skilled at it. With a cheerful grin, he whispers to me, "Mom, this bin belongs to an award-winning restaurant! The food's fresh and tastes great. Let's bring some back for Dad!"

He smelt like thyme and rosemary. The fire in the furnace was burning cheerfully. I rubbed my head against his fur and said, "I have a mate, Finn. He's Alpha Lucas of the White Walkers. I really miss him, but he hates me for being so weak and useless. I guess he just wants to kill me. That's why I run away with you. Finn, Alpha Lucas is a formidable man. Eventually, he will come and take me away from you. When you see him, please run away as fast as you can. I don't want him to hurt you. This is very important for me, Finn. I'd rather kill myself than see you getting hurt by him..."

They circled us, their movements fluid, like smoke drifting through the air, searching for an opening. I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, watching as Hayden faced them down, his sword ready, his gaze unwavering. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice calm despite the chaos around us. I nodded, unable to find my voice. I couldn’t take my eyes off the furies—the way they moved, the way their twisted faces seemed to shift and change with every passing moment. They were creatures of nightmare, of darkness and death, and they wanted me.

Before anyone could react, he grabbed a fruit knife from the table—the one he used to slice Corinne’s fruits every day—and drove it straight into her chest. Corinne’s eyes widened in disbelief as blood gushed out. She looked at Trevon’s twisted face one last time—then went still. "Don’t look." Sawyer gently shielded my eyes with his hand. "I’ll get you out of here." Sawyer bit the tip of his finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto my fish scales. He pressed them carefully to the place where my legs had once been. Seraphina clapped and squealed with joy. "Mommy! You have a beautiful fishtail again! Just like mine!"

He survives by being forgettable, quiet, and careful. The heat rising inside him now is too powerful to come from one missed dose. Someone forced this into him. Finn drags himself toward the nearest table and grips its edge until his knuckles ache. His legs tremble as he stands, but stubborn anger pushes through the weakness. He is not delicate, and he hates the way the drug tries to make him feel helpless. He knows hunger, exhaustion, unpaid bills, and fear. He knows how to stand straight when his body wants to fold.

"The Holcher family is even more mysterious than the Hollis family. Naturally, you haven’t paid attention to them." After a moment, he continued, "There are three hidden families—Hollis, Dragomir, and Holloway." At the mention of the Holloway family, Finnick’s voice clearly carried a note of disgust. Naomi immediately sensed something off about his tone. Given his familiarity with hidden families, it was likely that Finnick had some connection with them. Before Naomi could ask more, Finnick confessed, "Naomi, I’m from the Holloway family." ***

Smith and Sophia shouted chorusly when he pointed the gun at Justin who was unconscious. Alex closed his eyes and waited for his turn. The end has finally come, he knew it would come one day, only he didn't know it would come this early to him.

"But Finn is not those people. Finn is a seven-year-old who told Parliament that Uncle Callum earned his position and that earning matters more than being born to something. He is not the tool they are trying to make him." I think about Finn, who arrived three days ago and who looked at everything in London with the quality of someone for whom everything is new and therefore everything is interesting, and who sat in the shelter courtyard and counted the pigeons and told me their specific flight patterns, and who has Cormac's jaw in the way that I have Valentina's eyes, which is to say something of someone who is not here is visible in someone who is. "We're both supposed to be something," I

She doesn't ask the question to anyone in particular, but she knows there is only one of the three who will actually answer her. Finn, wearing a dark shirt, kept pace at her side, and he seemed to be the least intimidating of their little bunch. Ethan had a fiery anger that rolled off him even in his quietness. Finn was an image of innocence, even with the childish silence to match. His dark hair was so dark, he looked like the darker version of Jack Frost come to life. Vergel’s hair looked fiery red.