Tribute Names Hunger Games Novels & Stories

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."

“I have a thrilling idea that can not only spice up the banquet, but also speedd up the tribute selection.” He grins and my skin shivers. It is the smile of someone who only holds malicious thoughts within their head. “The tributes will undergo a test; one that is absolute in selecting the presence of the True Queen.” The banquet doors open once more, knights clad in black armor carry burning coals and chunks of wood before dumping them onto the marbled floor and building a makeshift pyre. “A trial by fire!”

"She will be treated like the tribute she will be." "Me? You want me as tribute?" I questioned. "She hasn't even reached maturity. She is too young and without her wolf. Name....something.... else." My mind went into a spiral while everyone at the table debated back and forth. Evander wanted me as a tribute. But why? Why me? And what is a tribute anyway? Would I be his wife? His slave? Would I cook, clean, and serve the pack? I asked myself so many questions while the leaders discussed this further. But only one question mattered right now. Would this save my parents?

I don't want any of us from District G to be eliminated. As our glass cylinder opens, all tributes started to run towards the Patag center to get some bags... for protection. And everyone started to beat each other until they'll be eliminated. Ulap, Token, Vani, Keithwarth, and I—the five hopes of District G, of Grass, shall let the letters let us... to live. And Giovanni, my Giovanni. I love him... because he is part of the team.

I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. Selena let out a soft, dismissive little laugh. She reached up, gently tracing the line of my jaw. "The Lycan King is a sadist, Kaelen. Everyone knows he plays sick games with his tributes. He puts them on a pedestal just to watch them fall. He enjoys playing with his prey before he gouges them."

James’s voice cracked with urgency and desperation. It felt like the world was crashing down around me. James’s voice, pleading and angry, was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. But my legs felt like they would give way. The tension was unbearable. I was paralyzed, unable to speak, unable to move. “Do you see? Katniss doesn’t care about what you say, James,” Renata sneered, her voice dripping with superiority. “She only listens to me.” “I hold all the cards,” she continued. “You… you can’t win.”

Frena couldn’t believe that her broody and gruff King of a half-brother could be mates with this petite and shy woman before her. “Things just got interesting.....” She bit into a peach fruit. “My name is Frena, I am Dreg’s half-sister.” Ilena gave her a small smile as she observed the tall woman in front of her. Her blonde hair fell down in waves to her waist and her skin was sun kissed which meant she spent most of her time in the sun. “I didn’t know that Dreg had found his mate.” She commented and took a large gulp of water. Ilena smiled awkwardly. “A lot of people were surprised.....I was married to him from Thanes as a tribute....”

She finds it hard to watch Althea, her sister, get tight whenever she comes close, and she always bats her eyes in rejection when she looks at her. Even though I can scarcely see Kohl because of my poor vision, his golden eyes attract my attention when I see him. she said to herself. Kohl's lips were pursed as he looked straight into my soul as they drew closer and shared a passionate kiss. The essence of love overpowered the speed of light that flashed across their heads. Naomi, taken aback by the odd title, questioned, "Who? Me, Queen?" as Prince Kohl whispered to her, "Queen of the iron throne." Just a housekeeper at the Palace, remember? I'm not one of the maids vying for your love.

"And I'll savor every moment of the revelation." "Then we're both getting something out of this arrangement." Velis paused, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. Around them, the guards shifted uncomfortably—they'd clearly expected begging or screaming, not this calm acceptance of fate. "Such defiance. It's almost... refreshing. Most tributes are broken long before they reach my attention." "Maybe your other tributes lacked proper motivation." "And what motivates you, little prince? Duty? Honor? The desperate hope that someone might rescue you?" Velis moved with the controlled grace of a predator who knew the kill was inevitable—there one instant, close enough to touch the next.

Power hummed around her, different from Ronan’s but no less dangerous. “I am Mara,” she said. “Beta of Blackthorn.” “I don’t care,” I replied. One corner of her mouth twitched. “Good. It means you haven’t learned fear yet.” She gestured behind her. Two servants slipped in silently, setting down a tray of food and water. The smell hit me hard—meat, rich and bloody. My stomach twisted with hunger so fierce it startled me. I looked away. “You haven’t eaten,” Mara observed. “I’m not hungry.”