Freya's POV
As the pack got ready for combat, there was a lot of tension in the air. I was unable to concentrate as warriors honed their weapons while whispering soft prayers. I couldn't get the decision out of my head, and the weight of it was pressing down on my chest.
Faintly gleaming, the relic lay on a table before me. It appeared innocuous, even lovely, but I knew better. It could wipe out everything, even myself.
Finnick's voice pierced my mind, "Freya." He walked into the room with a worried look on his face. "Are you alright?"
I gave a headshake. "I'm not sure, Finn. Was it the right decision for me? Or did I just spell our doom?"
He took my hands in his and moved closer. "You chose what you believed to be the greatest option. That is the only thing anyone can do.
However, what if it wasn't sufficient? With my voice breaking, I whispered. "What if I don't succeed?"
