There would be no clean kill, no blade through the spine. Even in death, she’d be stripped of all honor. The Death Games were brutal, bloody, and horrific. She would likely die scrabbling desperately, sliced up, and sobbing like a hare in the jaws of a hound. She clutched the green stone in her palm and prayed to the stars or whoever might be listening. Let me die quickly. Let me go home soon.
