The blood had dried onto the crown prince's hands by the time he woke up to the weak gray lighting of dawn.
His mouth tasted salty and bitter, his eyes crusted over from deep sleep. It was when he raised his hands to wipe them that he discovered the sight of the blood.
Finnick's body still lay where it had fallen the previous night. The rat had returned, sniffing over its former owner's body and scurrying around. When it saw Augustus approaching again, Beezus backed away and started yipping loudly as if to condemn him for what he had done.
This was the first life Augustus had ever taken. In the light of day, the damage he had dealt was more devastating. The neck was clearly broken and the head resembled a cracked-open egg. But not the sort of tasty egg that could be cracked with a silver spoon and enjoyed with toast during breakfast.
