Livia Hunger Games Novels & Stories

I could hear in my own words just how arrogant I sounded. “My name is Beta Devon, Luna.” He bowed his head once more. “Alpha, Beta, Luna… I feel like I have stepped into some cheesy Greek teenage fantasy drama! I didn’t want any of this, you know. The titles. The turning into a wolf the moment the full moon appears.” I couldn’t help myself. I was acting like a petulant child. But I just didn’t care. My life had taken a complete turn, and all I wanted was to get back on the tracks I was on. Everything just came bubbling out.

Dinah breathed out as she squatted and picked up the book. She opened it again and turned to the other page, she saw the written penalty which was death and she saw a sentence which was written, ' Game 2. Dinah couldn't understand all that she saw, she was so confused and she wished whatever she had seen wasn't true. Jared had once told her, right there in the library, that he doesn't hurt innocent souls. Then why is Nancy an exception?

And from the beginning, Livy was very ambitious to fade that smile. Chief Livy is looking for a way to look like she's winning over Lucy. And it felt like she had just found a needle in a haystack when she saw Artha, who had just left the elevator door. Without waiting for long, Livy moved to approach the man. "Where have you been? I was looking for you." Artha said this a moment after the elevator door that he used earlier closed tightly. Artha did not get any answers to his questions. He had not even had time to realize that now Livy's small arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.

[Livy] This is not a game I want to play because it isn’t really a game. He will kill my Mama and make me watch because he wants me to come out. He’s trying to hurt my Uncle. This is about more than just me and Mama. Before, with the bad men, I knew it wasn’t a game either and that the computer was lying to me to make me feel better about hurting them. She didn’t need to go through that much trouble. I wanted to hurt them. Just like the bad men before hurt mama and me, and killed my nanny, Sally. I wanted them to feel pain for making me hurt. I know that means I’m not a very good girl, but sometimes good people have to do bad things.

To give them a future. She looked at the beautiful girl who confronted her and seeing that she is a little bit tipsy said: “You didn’t tell me your name.” The girl with long blond hair and dark blue eyes looked at her and laughed. “I am Livia!” she said, almost giggling. “Well Livia, I am glad to meet you. You look more beautiful when you are not trying to kill me” she joked. “And you look nice when you are not stealing Jerel from me” she said with sad eyes.

Livie says teasingly. As always, Leah and Livie exchanged words, bickering for a while before Livie left. Her pregnancy was making her soft, making sure that Leah had warm food and was warm at night when sleeping. But Leah was not budging. She refused any help, raging in anger every time she saw Livie come back with new blankets and warm food. There was no use. She knew she would be here for the rest of her life, and if she had to just die, then she'd try and speed the process. But the hunger was getting to her, making her feel vulnerable and weak.

She laughs, watching him bound down the hall. "Only food could ever get him to move that fast," she jokes, and the father scoffs a laugh and agrees. "I'll see you downstairs, dad." Liviana wanders off, making her way down the hall and pulling the elastic out of her hair- letting the long black locks free from the bun she had confined them in. She hesitates when she reaches a crossroad in the corridors, running her fingers through the strands and beginning to tug when the question she's hit with makes her heart twist in her chest. Did she want to go to her room? Did she want to be alone? Or... did she want to be with Blaze?

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Five minutes. That’s how long we had when Livia appeared, gliding toward us like a storm wrapped in silk. Her smile was venomous, her eyes alight with the thrill of destruction. “Touching,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “The two of you playing hero and heroine. It’s almost poetic.” Levi didn’t flinch, but I felt the tension radiating off him. “You’re out of time, Livia,” he said coldly. “And allies.”

Agatha leans against a fallen log, knife clutched tight, face streaked with grime and tears. Rowan and Fen are already gathering the scattered patrols near the smashed ward-stones at the forest’s edge, voices low and grim. Everywhere, the aftermath of the fight blurs with the sickly orange of the fire still licking at the ruined packhouse. That’s when I see her—Livia, cloak torn and spattered with mud, weaving through the confusion at the edge of the field. She looks hunted and cornered, eyes wild, hair stuck to her face in ragged strands. She scans the chaos—searching, calculating. Her hand twitches. Too close to a cluster of pups pressed against a toppled cart.

But for Livia and Elias, these were mere illusions—glittering distractions with high price tags, utterly unrelated to their true objective. Livia sat near the back, her figure cloaked in shadows beneath a hood. Her eyes, however, never strayed from the auction stage. Her garments had been specially tailored—unremarkable to the eye, but suited for swift movement. A short dagger and pistol were concealed at her waist. These were habits from her previous life as Alia—skills honed over countless infiltrations into noble estates, ancient ruins, and clandestine markets in another world. She knew the rhythm of these events intimately—and she knew, danger always lurked in the corners that seemed saf