"They broke pack law," Aunt Fion said without hesitation. "Bryn doesn't have a tattoo, he wasn't trespassing, and he didn't pick a fight. They broke pack law, and they risked exposing our species."

"Yes, they did, but none of the other Alphas will give a shit," I muttered.

We were in the ward, and it was quite crowded. My mam, my aunt and my uncle had all gathered to hear the story. They were a little pissed off about the whole thing. Bryn's mam, Cassidy, was back from treating a collapsed lung, and she had him sat on the table while she glued the cut on the back of his head shut.

"Jace will," Mam said. "We'll tip him off and see if he doesn't give Zach a hiding."

"Why? We can raid Shadowless as payback," I grumbled. "We don't need help from no flockie."

"Of course we'll raid Shadowless, but I'm playing the long game here."

I raised an eyebrow, and Mam waved a hand at Fion, which meant she couldn't be arsed explaining.

"Next month, the packmeet are going to vote on an amendment which will let them execute trespassers as young as fourteen, kill Haven wolves on sight, and most worryingly, round up anyone who does not belong to a pack and detain them indefinitely," Fion said.

"What?" I demanded. That would include lones, who had done no harm to anyone. How could they make it illegal to not be a part of their society?

"They want to drive us extinct once and for all, Eva," Mam sighed. "At the moment, we have three definite votes for and two definite votes against. Shadowless and Riverside are undecided. If Jace manages to talk some sense into his cousin, we might stand a chance of getting the majority. If not ... well, I've already heard Riverside is leaning."

Huh? Most of that had gone in one ear and out the other. I had a really horrible habit of zoning out when people were talking to me.

"Jaden listens to Jace," Rhys said firmly. "Always has, always will."

"Not so much lately," she countered. "He's been siding with Lowland and pushing the anti-rogue legislation. He and Cornell have had seven phone calls in the last two days alone."

I had never taken much interest in the packmeet politics, to be honest, so I was a little bit lost. We had some of the old ones recorded on tape, but once the Alphas had wised up to our shit, they'd moved from an old church into human venues that were a lot harder to bug. I had listened to some of the tapes just to laugh at what was said, but had I paid attention beyond that? No.

"Which three are for the amendment?" I asked, trying to bring the topic back into my narrow realm of understanding.

"Silver Lake, Lowland and Ember," Fion said.

Silver Lake had always despised us, and that was fair, since rogues had killed their last three Alphas. The other two were just pricks, as far as I knew.

Cassidy had finished with Bryn, and she came for me next. I hopped up onto one of the benches and pulled off Sam's shirt. There was an impressive bruise stretching across my ribcage — dark red and yellow mottled together.

"These are broken," she said. "Not much I can do ... unless you want pain relief?"

"Nah," I laughed.

"There's a surprise," Cassidy sighed. She was eyeing the grazes on my arms now — the ones that hadn't healed because they were grimy. "I'll clean these up, and then you're free to go."

An alcohol wipe and tweezers were produced. I sat still and chewed on my lip while she disinfected the raw skin, which kinda stung, and picked out the pieces of gravel. Mam came over to watch, and I could feel her wolf taking an interest in proceedings. Someone had hurt her pups — she was royally pissed off.

"What's this on your hand, Eva?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly, because I didn't want to worry her.

"It's not nothing." Mam looked at Bryn, who clamped his mouth firmly shut because he wasn't a snitch. She looked back at me and let her wolf surface enough to put the fear of the Goddess into mine. "I'm not asking again."

"It's the Beta's phone number," I said grudgingly. "He was being weird with me."

"Did he touch you?"

"Not much."

Fion turned away and busied herself with cleaning a counter.

"I'm so sick of this," Mam growled. "One of Ian's raiders was assaulted in Lowland this morning. When Ian named the guy responsible, the Alpha gave him a commendation for bravery."

I spat on the floor. It wasn't like we were innocent in that regard. There had been a few incidents with pack females over the years, some fabricated to make us look like monsters, and some which were probably true. The difference was, we punished the pieces of shit responsible instead of sweeping it all under the rug, and so the next man thought twice.

Mam's eyes swirled black. "And that reminds me — there's another amendment up for debate next month. Mason Vaughan wants to legalise rape as a punishment for trespassing. It won't pass, but I'm not sure how the hell we've got to the point where he can even dare to suggest it."

Well, Mason Vaughan could go and hang himself, because this was a new low, even for him. I wondered if Liam knew. Probably not. It was a sore subject, to say the least, and we tried very hard not to bring it up around him.

"If you would just give me five minutes alone with that boy..." Rhys said darkly.

"He's not yours to kill," Mam retorted. "We're sticking to the plan."

Cassidy had finished cleaning the grazes. I jumped down from the table and pulled my shirt back on. "What plan?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she laughed. "Write down that phone number. I have a feeling we'll be needing it soon."

"I'll write it down if you tell me what the hell is going on."

She caught my stare and held it, and my wolf tucked her tail between her legs. "You'll write it down, Eva, and we'll wait for the boys to get home. I'm not repeating myself."

When were the boys getting home? The two months of separation ended the day after tomorrow, technically, but Emmett was no obligation to return Rhodri straight away, especially if it meant a thirty-mile trip to Haven. Liam had only just left, so I doubted I'd see him before the end of the week. This really sucked.

I tore a scrap of paper from one of Eira's medical charts and copied the phone number across. I changed the last number from four to two just in case I needed some leverage later, and then I tried to wash the ink from my skin. It was Sharpie — I didn't stand a chance in hell — but I soaked it in warm water and anti-bac soap all the same. I rubbed and rubbed until my skin went red.

When I next glanced up, hand stinging and still very much tainted with the Beta's handwriting, Fion was frozen in place. That meant she was linking, and she must have been linking someone pretty far away, because it looked like she was actually having to concentrate. A moment later, she blinked and let out a long breath.

"That was Ollie," she said. "They've found something."

I was still scrubbing at the ink, but I popped my head up to listen. Ollie was with Liam. The sooner they finished scouting, the sooner they could come home, so I had a vested interest in this conversation.

"Oh yeah?" Mam asked.

"There's a camp north of Pine Forest. Five guys, three girls. They smell rogue, but they're not Haven, so Ollie's pretty sure it's them."

If I was right, that would be the deposed Ember Alpha and his friends. It had been nineteen years. They'd smell rogue by now, especially if they'd been living rough. I turned off the tap for a moment. The black Sharpie looked a bit fainter, if only because I had stripped away a layer of skin.

My mam narrowed her eyes. "Only pretty sure? Hasn't Leo had a look?"

"He went with the Silverstones group. He's running down now, so he should be there by sundown," Fion explained.

"Alright, keep me updated. If it is the Fletcher kid, tell them to watch from a safe distance."

So they were indeed talking about the deposed Alpha. I was so busy patting myself on the back for making that connection that I turned the tap on too hard and got an impromptu shower. I heard someone snigger behind me, and that was when I noticed Bryn looming over me and watching me fail.

"Use some alcohol gel," he advised me.

I raised my eyebrows, but I did squirt a dollop of the stuff onto my hand. The black faded to light grey, and after a few more wipes it was hardly visible at all. The adults had all gone while I had been distracted — it was nearly dinnertime and they needed to round up the kids. Well, all of them except Cassidy, who was now scribbling on my sister's chart.

"Thanks," I muttered, more than a little surprised.

"Don't mention it," he said, a grin playing about his lips. "There was one year Eira did nothing but draw genitals on my arms. I sussed it out pretty quick."

That was such an Eira thing to do that I found myself returning his grin. It faded the second I glanced at her, lying in that bed and looking so fragile and pale. As I watched, I could've sworn I saw her eyelids flicker and her mouth twist into a frown.

"Reckon she's waking up," I told Cassidy, jerking my head at Eira.

"She's sedated now," she said. "She can't wake up."

Another flicker.

"Huh," I muttered. Of course, Eira didn't much like being that told she couldn't do something, and so she woke up anyway.

I was at her bedside in about a second flat, Bryn not far behind me. It took her a minute to realise that she was awake, and another minute to recognise me.

"Eva? When the hell did you get back?" she asked. Her voice was raspy and almost too quiet to hear, which was understandable, given that she hadn't had anything to drink since yesterday.

"This morning," I breathed.

"I missed it? Shit," Eira growled. "How long have I been out?"

"Just a day," Bryn supplied, a smile creeping across his face. "Hi."

"Hi to you too, shithead. I'm guessing it was a fit?"

We both nodded our heads, and Bryn held up two fingers. It was probably a blessing that she couldn't remember having the fits, because they didn't look like fun, and that was the understatement of the century.

"Oh," Eira mumbled. "Last thing I remember is downing some cranberry juice."

"It happened right after that," he told her.

Cassidy was hovering, of course. She had stopped the drip, and she was in the process of disconnecting Eira's cannula from the machine. She said, "Before you two start catching up, I need to check you over."

Eira's face soured very quickly. "How about we speed run it? My back hurts, I can't see out of my left eye and both my feet are cramping. Pain score's about a four. No, I don't feel breathless, and I'm not dizzy. Anything else?"

Cassidy sighed, but she'd been dealing with my sister for years now, and she knew to pick her battles. "No, not for now."

At that moment, the dinner bell rang. Bryn and I twitched towards the door instinctively, because we both knew all too well that anyone who was late to supper could only eat after everyone else had taken their seconds.

"Hang on," my sister said. "I'm coming too."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Cassidy told her, trying to sound stern.

"I'm coming," she repeated, sitting up in bed slowly and painstakingly. "Try and bloody stop me."

To be honest, we could stop her quite easily if we wanted to. There was a problem with living in the middle of nowhere — the accessibility was shit. We had started laying a patio at the front of the cabin so Eira could use her wheelchair outdoors, but we were having to buy the stones slowly, whenever there was some cash spare, because they were one of the few things we couldn't steal from flockies. So, for the moment, if she wanted to get from the ward to the kitchen, she had to walk or be carried, and neither option was ideal.

Eira sat on the edge of the bed and let her feet rest on the floor. All three of us watched as eased some weight onto her toes, which were curled up tightly in the wrong directions. Just looking at them made my own toes tingle with pain.

"Nope," she muttered. "Nope, that's not happening."

"That's okay. We've got a big strong lad here, and he's got to earn his keep somehow," I said cheerfully.

Bryn took his queue and swapped places with me so he was beside Eira, and then he leaned down and put one arm under her legs and the other under her back.

"Gently, Bryn," Cassidy told her son, but the warning was hardly necessary. Bryn picked her up like she was made of sugar-glass, and then I opened the ward door for him. He carried her through to the kitchen, where she could sit in her wheelchair and wait for dinner to be served. Bryn and I took the chairs on either side of her.

When Mam came in with the kids, she was so astonished that she nearly dropped Poppy on the floor, and then Eira had to endure her fretting. She was allowed to stay, if only because Mam couldn't say no to my sister. The rest of the family weren't far behind her. The conversation was, as always, boisterous, to say the least. Eira was too worn out to participate for the most part, but she did enjoy listening. Bryn told her about Wyst, and I told her about my time with Nia.

She didn't manage to eat much. It was chicken pie, which was one of Sam's specialities, but she had barely two forkfuls before she scraped the rest of her supper onto my plate. I didn't complain — I was always looking to put on a few pounds, and Eira often got nauseous. Weirdly, Bryn didn't have much of an appetite, either. He managed to scoff down his vegetables, but he only picked at the pie.

By the time we'd finished our pudding — mugs of steaming custard — Eira was nearly asleep in her chair, and she didn't protest when Cassidy ordered her back to the ward. Bryn and I sat with her until she really did fall asleep, and then we sat there a little longer just because.

We went to find our own beds at barely nine o'clock, because it had been a long day, all things considered. Plus, the kids were playing sardines in the woods, so the loft would be mercifully empty, and I could get to sleep without listening to Matty and Ahmed giggling for an hour.

I had barely put one hand on the ladder when Bryn caught hold of my jacket from behind. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he offered me a sheepish smile. "Um, before you go up there, I should probably—"

Before he could finish, I twisted free and climbed up. At first, I couldn't see anything amiss. There was just mattresses and sleeping bags and the partition which separated the girls from the boys. It was only when I peered into the gloom at the far end of the boys' side that I saw it — a faint outline standing on the floorboards beside Liam's mattress.

"—explain," Bryn sighed. He had followed me up, and he was chewing on his lip while he waited for my reaction.

"Bryn Llewellyn," I said with a calm I didn't feel, "is that a chicken?"

He heaved a long sigh. "Technically ... yes."

"There's no technically about it. Where the hell did you get it? And ... why?" I demanded. The calmness was fracturing with every word, replaced by overwhelming confusion.

"The farm at Arlow," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted to cheer Eira up. She's had a rough couple of days."

"And this was the first thing that crossed your mind? Not chocolates or a card or something? Poultry theft?" I spluttered.

"Actually, I was going to nick a goat, but they run too bloody fast."

I rubbed at my face. The chicken was pecking at our floorboards. I couldn't see the feathers very well, but I was pretty sure they were brown and speckled. It was ... bigger than I expected, somehow. I'd only seen chickens from a distance, and now there was one roaming free in my bedroom.

"Ahmed named him Cluck Norris," Bryn told me. "He's kinda a pain in the ass. He laid an egg on Matty's bed and shat on mine. I did have him in a box at first, but he didn't like it much. Kept bloody clucking. The adults would've heard."

"He is clearly a she," I pointed out.

Bryn's forehead furrowed. "Oh, right. Good shout."

Another chicken emerged from the girls' half of the loft. This one was grey and a bit smaller, but there was a glint in its beady little eyes that I didn't like one bit. It was looking at me like it wanted to tear me to shreds.

"Two of them," I murmured. "There's two of them."

"Of course. I didn't want him ... her, it, whatever ... to be lonely."

I swore at him, and he winced, to my satisfaction. "I suppose this one has a smartass name too?"

"Princess Lay-a," he whispered.

More swearing.

"You better be feeding them, Bryn," I said sternly. "What ... what are you even supposed to feed them?"

"No idea," he admitted. "They like grapes and bread, but they would probably murder each other for a nice, juicy worm."

I could definitely picture that dumbass rooting in the mud for worms to feed the stupid birds. Still, it was impressive that he'd managed to keep them secret this long in a house full of people with amazing hearing and senses of smell. I suspected the pile of cleaning products near the hatch had played no small part. All of the kids must have been in on it, the little devils.

"You're not going to snitch on me, right?" he asked, and those damned hazel eyes were wide with hope.

"Of course not," I scoffed. "But they'd better be gone by tomorrow night."

He wrapped me in a rather aggressive hug. "Thank you."

"I mean it," I warned him.

"Yeah, yeah, I promise."

Bryn was a big fat liar.