Novel & Cerita How Old Was Mags When She Won The Hunger Games

It smelled a bit burnt. Yet despite this feast, Alpha Magnus sat alone at the head of the table, His blonde head bent over his phone. He was too busy crushing candies on his phone, his long fingers deftly maneuvering level 352. At 110 years old (though he looked a crisp 27), Magnus had seen it all: wars, betrayals, and enough breakfast platters to feed a small nation. None of it interested him anymore. Well, Maybe the bacon still did, a little. His tattoo, hidden beneath the high neckline of his shirt, stirred faintly, as if even it were bored.

She was right about the costumes. A few places, sequins, feathers, and lycra pieces covered every surface of the spacious tent. There was also a mirrored and illuminated tent with makeup, hairbrushes, bobby pins and curlers scattered over every square inch of the surface. Then we met Margot, who looked to be 14 or 15 years old. He had short brown hair, brown eyes and a carefree smile. She was trying to set up a ticket stall on her own – to no avail.

I ask Mags. The three of them laugh, “She’s an old hermit and old habits die hard. She’s still scared of being around wolves. Give her time,” Mags answers me. “I’m NOT a hermit, and I’m not scared, and who are you calling old? You’re 30 years older than me,” a voice snaps in the back room. The tone is sharp, but there is humour hidden within it. “Well come and introduce yourself then and prove me wrong,” Mags teases, while winking at me, making me stifle my laughter.

I’m not sure if she is joking or not. “April that is not what we are saying,” Sage says shaking her head. “So all of you are going to sit here and tell us that none of you ever did anything remotely sexual with anybody until you found your true mates?” April says with a bit of anger in her voice. All of the mother figures turned their gazes away from us. “Megan, have you ever done the calculation on when your birthday is and when mine is?” Mom asks. “No.” “I was two and half months pregnant with you when I turned eighteen,” Mom says as she watches for my reaction.

I state smugly. “You were always an arrogant bastard just like Death. You are like him in so many ways.” Mags states, coming closer. She puts the blade to my neck. “Too bad you won’t see your daughter grow up.” “That’s where you’re wrong, Mags. I’ll see her grow up right after I go help Ari kill Sage.” Mags’s face drops. “Yeah, I know she works for you just like Liam and Ghost do as well. I’ve figured out your whole damn underground rebellion. Death is waiting for you. I don’t think you will enjoy the afterlife.” I counter as I pull my war scythe out as shadows grab Mags causing her to drop the dagger. “I hope Death makes your time in the afterlife as hellish as possible,” I say as I drive m

I don’t know how to describe them, I’m not a fashion expert, but I can at least tell they match her blouse. 'Someone won’t be getting a job on the red carpet,' Matthan sniggers. I ignore him. “Right on time again. I’m Impressed,” Maggie compliments, not even turning her head to look at me, but no doubt she either scented or heard me coming. Maggie is fifty-six but looks late 30s if you ask me, and she’s incredibly slim, bordering on bony. She may not have muscles or curves, but I still wouldn’t want to take her on in a fight. I hear her father used to be a Beta in another pack and I just know that means she can kick all our asses.