Livia Cardew Hunger Games Novels & Stories

As I drew near, she tensed, heart pounding harder with each step. There was blood in her hair, crusted and dark. Dried on her scalp like mud on a boot tread. I catalogued the sight with a cursory scorn. The Matron's people were clumsy. They didn't know how to handle the tributes, and the girls arrived at court bruised and battered. I came in close, shutting my eyes, leaning toward the delicate column of her throat. A deep breath, pulling in her scent.

Day job as a cataloging library assistant. Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor...or Hulk (can’t decide). Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes. Find her online at www.LindaKage.com Facebook Twitter Instagram

However, safety was always a luxury for people like them. Even in this moment, Livia was covering for all of them with her Phantom Eyes—a skill native to the elven race—that allows her to observe everything within a 20 feet distance from her. But the man simply scoffed. “Who do you think you’re asking, Captain?” “An idiot,” Livia butt in. “Hey!” Arden tossed him a small pouch. “Hair?” he asked, looking inside. “Take a closer look.” Hanes pulled out a pinch of the strands, studying them closely in the pale lighting.

Thalia’s POV As the connection dissolves, a shimmering haze lifts from the circle, and one by one the wolves shift back into their human forms. The air feels lighter, but a quiet tension remains. Lycans, unlike ordinary wolves, retain their clothes through the change—a small comfort in the midst of chaos. I glance over at Blake, my heart heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, Blake,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I tried. If the three goddesses cannot help her, then I can’t either.”

she muttered in her laughter. “Alexa,” I called, trying to get her attention. “You have to hear this,” she said between laughs. “Listen to this madness.” She cleared her throat dramatically and began reading: “Livia is a curse, a plague, and she steals everything that should be mine. I hope her beauty rots and her soul burns.” Alexa paused, looking up with a grin. “Wow. Poetic and very original,” she said with a grin. Livia’s expression darkened, but she remained still.

After waiting in the living room for almost an hour, Artha finally came with Agatha. Agatha still looked at Livy as if she were a criminal. Even though Livy was just an ordinary woman who was addicted to selling her body on the black market so she could pay off her father's huge debt, Maybe this is the risk of her ridiculous decision. On the bright side, Livy only needed to give up her body for one man, not as many men as Deborah had said that night. "Livy, this is my wife, Agatha." Artha opened his voice while embracing Agatha's shoulder.

Cameron asks walking over to his worried mate and taking her hands, while Becky was on the brink of hyperventilating due to the stress of everything. “Liv is gone! I had persuaded her to eat but her water was dirty, so I left the room to get her some but forgot to lock the door, she’s gone!” She manages to ramble while her thoughts were going at a million miles an hour, but Cameron, was confused at who she was talking about but also, Becky was talking rather quickly. “Wait whose Liv?” He asks sending her a worried but also, confused look, she almost cries and looks down annoyed in a sense that her mate wasn’t understanding quick enough.

“You’re my war. My peace. My equal.” She touched his jaw, her thumb brushing the faint scar there. “Then let’s stop surviving. And start living.” They stayed at the window until dawn painted the sky in soft gold. Later, as the city stirred below, Livia returned to the fireplace. She knelt, sifting through the cold ash with her fingers until she found what she was looking for—the twisted metal of the ring, now blackened and brittle. She picked it up, held it in her palm for a moment, then dropped it into the trash.

That still didn’t feel right, for some reason, but it seemed more plausible… if teleporting a fucking photo out of thin air and taping it to her door didn’t feel like science fiction. Torn between anger someone had invaded her space, alarm they managed to evade her security, and a flutter of excitement at the admittedly distant possibility she could learn to do that, as well, Livia just sat there for a long while. Finally, she sighed and moved to pick up the picture she’d tossed on her desk. Her hand hovered over it as she noticed her sketchbook beneath. Slowly, she lifted the picture, her gaze moving from the image of the man to her latest design: matching claymore swords.

Letty laughed mockingly as she spoke to her. Livia was taken aback by the accuracy of Letty’s statement. She acted without considering the potential consequences, displaying a remarkable level of empathy. “Am I considered a top actress? Do you think I have what it takes to succeed as an actress?” Letty spoke to her. “Sure thing, Letty! You have an incredible talent! You are an exceptional daughter!” The woman accompanying Letty, who is likely her mother, Letezia, also expressed praise. Everything was part of their plans, which Livia had already calculated. She is a fool to believe Letty’s request for help when the truth is that it was their plan to lock her within her own town house and mur