Helllooo again. Luna of Rogues is about to hit half a million reads (THANK YOU, LOVE YOU ALL) and I've now finished exams so you get a super long chapter to make up for the mini-hiatus and to say thanks properly :)

"No, of course we're not going to make you mark her," Aunt Fion scoffed. "Sit down, would you? I'm not even sure why you're here."

"Oh," Liam said. He parked himself in one of the camp chairs and shrugged at me. "I can ... leave, if you want?"

I shook my head. I needed some degree of moral support for whatever the hell was going on here. Scratching the back of my neck, I levelled a weary look at my aunt. "If he's not doing it, then ... who is going to mark me?"

She glanced up at me and smiled. "I am."

Oh, Goddess. Liam broke into a coughing fit which sounded suspiciously like laughter. Myself, now ... I was closer to confused than amused, and I was sure it showed. My jaw was hanging slightly agape, my eyes darting around with near fervent alarm.

"No, not like that, Eva," she sighed. "I'm doing it manually."

"Manually?"

"Manually."

She held up a scalpel to illustrate the word, and I took a series of very quick steps backwards. The laughter had died in Liam's throat. He was now wincing on my behalf, for all the good it would do me. I'd agreed to this shit without thinking it through or doing the proper research, apparently, and now I'd pay the price.

Fion set the scalpel down again and showed me her palms in an attempt at placation. "I'm going to level with you, pup. No one's ever done this artificially before. I'm not entirely how it'll affect you."

I made a face. What the hell was that supposed to mean? If you were marked before you found your mate, you never found your mate. I knew that much. Would this count? Would I lose my soulmate virginity to a scalpel?

"It's not too late to back out, Eva," she told me cautiously.

"No, no. Screw it. Mark away," I said, pulling my shirt off. Liam couldn't go alone or, Goddess forbid, with some strange girl he didn't even know. The afternoon air was cold against my bare skin, but it wasn't the chill that made me shiver as my aunt approached with a scalpel and a syringe.

Surely it couldn't stop me finding my mate. It wouldn't be a proper mark, after all. Just another meaningless scar to add to the collection. I wouldn't be bonded to anyone, so my wolf wouldn't turn all lovey-dovey. I repeated that to myself over and over again as I hopped up to sit on the camping table.

Fion swabbed the patch of skin just below my collarbone. It was on the right, which was unusual for a mark, but my tattoo was kinda in the way. She collected the syringe first and flicked a few air bubbles from five mils of clear liquid.

"Sharp scratch," she warned me.

I leaned backwards and eyed the syringe warily. "What is it?"

Fion knew she'd lost before the words were even out of my mouth, so she swore softly before saying, "Just a bit of local. I'm about to cut into your skin, Eva. You'll need—"

"Nah."

She set the syringe down. I was met with a hard, unimpressed stare. "Look, I don't know who started this trend of refusing painkillers, but I don't like it."

That would be my sister. Not intentionally, of course, but just because she was so good with pain that the rest of us had gotten a little jealous and competitive. It followed that I was much more receptive to the meds when there weren't any witnesses. And hence my eyes fixed on Liam.

Fion followed my gaze and rolled her eyes. "If this is about looking tough, I can and will kick him out."

"It's not," I insisted.

I was starting to get the impression that she wasn't going to touch me with that scalpel unless I agreed to have the local, which was annoying. The longer I had to sit there arguing about it, the more I was starting to shiver.

Liam stood up. He came over to stand behind the table — behind me — so that my back was against his chest. And then he wove his fingers through mine and trapped my arms against my body. I could have wriggled, of course. Could have escaped in a heartbeat. He wasn't holding me still, he was just holding me.

"I'm closing my eyes, okay? I won't even know," he whispered.

Screw it. Now that they'd teamed up, it felt like I was just being difficult. Besides, I'd had more than my fair share of pain today.

Groaning, I nodded at Fion and then went straight back to sulking. She proceeded to inject little blobs of anaesthetic into the skin above my collarbone. It stung a little, sure, but less than the background pain from my elbow. And then came the blade, and suddenly all I could see was that sliver of metal flashing sunlight into my eyes.

As it turned out, I'd been right to take the local. Even with it, I could feel sharp spikes of pain whenever the scalpel dipped a little too deep. It wasn't like the easily-ignored, adrenaline-dulled pain that came from fighting in wolf form. It was slower, and it was excruciating. I would have sworn if I hadn't been too afraid I'd bite my tongue.

I let my head rest against Liam's chest and let my breaths come in ragged gasps. It calmed me down to have him there, but that didn't mean anything because Nia or Rhodri would have calmed me down, too. The more dominant wolves tended to have that effect when unpleasant things were happening. He was also really, really warm.

Fion was quick about it. She made a double row of cuts to match the crescent on her own neck. Hers was strangely smudged, like her mate had needed to bite twice in the same spot. I studied it to try and distract myself while the scalpel was splitting my skin.

When she stopped, finally, I closed my eyes and waited for the throbbing to fade. The pain seemed to leach through the skin and into my chest beneath. It squeezed on my heart, and I felt a horrible tightness in there, like my insides were suddenly too big for my body.

I opened my eyes again to see my aunt soaking a cotton bud in fluid. She applied it to each of the little cuts in turn, pushing it deep inside and making me flinch.

"What is that stuff?" I asked, not sure that I wanted to know the answer. If it was more Goddess-damned anaesthetic...

She finished smearing and pressed gauze over the wound. "The chemical that stops the healing process. It comes from saliva, you'll be thrilled to know, and it's what makes the mark stick. Without it, you'd just have a nice little white scar."

Ew. I scowled at the stuff, which was clear but strangely viscous, and I tried to think about literally anything else. Painkiller would have been preferable, in hindsight.

"Why do we lick our wounds if saliva stops the healing?" Liam asked.

She gave him an approving look. "I haven't had time to study that, but I'd imagine the chemical is released specifically for marking."

The gauze came off. Beneath it, the wounds were sticky and red. I had to crane my neck to get a good look at them. It wasn't the most beautiful mark I'd ever seen in my life, but it would get the job done. Already, it was starting to itch as it scabbed over.

Now that she was done, Liam went back to his chair. He crossed his legs over and regarded me with a lopsided smile that looked altogether too exhausted for my liking. He'd been so tired earlier that he'd nearly fallen asleep during the car ride back from Llechi, and he hated cars.

"It's messy," he said after a while. "Like I forced her."

"That might actually score you points at Silver Lake, Liam," Fion sighed. "I did my best under the circumstances. If you don't like it, you can always bite over it..."

And that was all it took to shut Liam up. He gave the mark a final appraising look before leaning back in his chair and redirecting his attention to picking dried flecks of mud from his trousers.

"I won't smell right," I pointed out as I pulled my shirt back over my poor, mangled elbow. "Marked, yeah, but not like him."

"No? Go and stand downwind of yourself, pup. Your scents are so tangled that it's hard to tell them apart," Fion told us matter-of-factly. I believed her. I was wearing one of his shirts, and we'd spent the night squashed together, as always. If we kept that up, maybe we'd be able to pass as mated.

Which reminded me... "Okay, but what happens if we find our actual mates?"

Her lips twitched into a slight smile. "There's a chance that might be the opposite of a problem, Eva. If that's not the case, you can always just deny it. That'll buy us some time to get you out of there."

Great. The good old 'reject and run.' If either of us had to resort to that, we'd have a fun time later trying to apologise to our mate. Luckily, I didn't turn eighteen for another two months. It would only be a problem if my mate was overage. Liam, on the other hand, was just a ticking time bomb.

Fion went to stand opposite him now. "Your turn to de-shirt, please."

He looked positively alarmed. "You know flockies don't mark the guys, right?"

"Did I say anything about marking?" she sighed. "Strip. It won't take long."

He looked at me with one eyebrow cocked, and I shrugged at him because it couldn't hurt to see what she wanted. Slowly, cautiously, Liam took hold of the collar of his shirt and pulled it off in that way boys did. They way I'd never been able to understand or replicate.

And suddenly I was staring at corded muscle, sun-kissed skin and a collection of scars which a corpse would envy. The rogue lifestyle combined hard labour with limited food in a way that made it almost impossible not to have a body like that. I took it for granted, almost. Facial features were another matter altogether, of course, but I'd never had to work for my fitness, and I'd never had look far to find a reasonably attractive boy.

Unfortunately, as guys like Joel proved, having a six-pack did not necessarily mean 'boyfriend material.' Quite the opposite, actually. The rogue lifestyle also combined routine murder and competitive spirit in a way that made it almost impossible to avoid being cocky and a complete jerk.

Of course, some girls were into that, and that was fine. Whatever. Each to their own. It just so happened that I wasn't. Those lean, powerful bodies were only worth as much as the person inside them, and having both ... now, that was a rare thing.

And that was why my eyes went wandering upwards and stuck on the roof of the tent. I'd lived with him for seven years, so I'd seen him shirtless more times than I could count, and yet somehow I still struggled to behave normally.

It didn't matter much, as it turned out. Liam was too busy staring at the ground to notice that I was being weird. Fion was examining the jagged scar which ran from his collarbone to the base of his sternum, then the burns marks from ribs to hip. She poked and prodded and checked the width between her forefingers.

"Is someone going to recognise these?" she asked him quietly.

Liam nodded without lifting his eyes from the floor.

Fion let out a heavy sigh. "Well, there's an awful lot of keloid tissue here, so there isn't much I can do in the time we've got. You'll just have to keep the shirt on."

That would be difficult. Shifting often left you in various stages of undress, and I knew flockies had a culture of taking off their shirts at the slightest hint of sunlight. With summer on its way, he would have a merry time trying to justify keeping a shirt on his back when he was sweating through it.

"How much time do we have?" I asked her.

"I'll let your mother explain that. She's on her way."

Oh, great. Just what I wanted right now. Another person to gawk at my mark. Liam was once again fully dressed, so I could finally take my eyes off the roof and make faces at him to illustrate those feelings, much to his amusement.

He sat back in his chair. I picked at the scabs on my arm and tried to bend my arm for the first time. I got about halfway before I heard a horrible grating sound like bone against bone and decided to stop. It needed more time, apparently. I could have asked Fion to look at it, but she looked so lost in her thoughts that it would have felt rude to disturb her.

"I was from Silver Lake, too, you know," she said eventually. "And I've got some scars of my own. For what it's worth, Liam, I wouldn't have gone back there for anything. What you're doing ... I think it's really, really brave."

It was about time someone acknowledged that instead of just treating him like a wounded animal. I knew that someone should have been me. I straightened my arm again with some difficulty and watched Liam carefully for his reaction. His eyes shirked hers, but I could've sworn his cheeks were flushed.

Finally, he shrugged. "I'm not afraid of them."

"I am," I told him, "and I've never even met them."

Liam was supposed to interpret that as 'it's okay to admit you're scared.' Instead, somehow, he managed to hear 'ha, ha, Eva's a scaredy-cat and needs to be mocked.' Of course, that could've been some sort of distraction tactic on his part, but ... well ... it worked. The moment his face broke into a grin, I was too busy making rude gestures to remember we'd been talking about something upsetting.

Suddenly, the tent flap opened, and Mam came inside with Dad in tow. I returned my middle finger to its natural position a heartbeat too late. Mam rolled her eyes at me. The sheepish expression which crept across my face was not feigned in the slightest.

Dad only winked. I was surprised to see him here, given his disapproval of this whole mess. Maybe he'd come into the fold. Maybe he'd just come to see if I was okay. While I was still pondering over that, Mam's eyes skimmed over my collarbone in about one second flat.

"Good," she said. "Thank you, Fion. It's perfect."

It was a very clear dismissal, and my aunt wasn't slow to take it. She was gone in the blink of an eye, taking her tray of bloodied medical torture instruments with her, and so we were left with my parents. Dad came to stand beside me. One of his hands snuck out to tousle my hair, and I had to swat him away. The look on his face was not one I recognised, but there was definitely a sadness about it.

"Fion said you were going to explain shit," I told my mam.

She nodded. Her eyes were fixed on mine with enough intensity to make my wolf squirm. "Yes, I am."

"Go on then."

"You're leaving tomorrow," she began. "The Lloyds have a lodge in the Silverstones, and you'll be staying there a week or two. However long it takes to make you smell like packlings. It should also give us enough time to remove the tattoos and get your story straight."

Shit, shit, shit. There were probably a dozen sleepers in all of Snowdonia — they were literally a dying breed. I'd certainly never expected to become one. This was already complicated, and we hadn't even made contact with the pack yet, let alone joined it.

"If we're just staying in a lodge, Rhodri can come with us, right?" Liam asked.

Cute. More proof that they loved each other deep down and all the evidence to the contrary was just bullshit posturing. I made absolutely sure that Liam saw my smirk.

She shook her head. "I'm sending Rhodri to Lowland with Nia's team. He'll be raiding for at least a week, so I'm not sure if you'll see him again before you go. But if it's any consolation, you might have the hostages for a few days when we get sick of them."

That was the opposite of a consolation. Both Rhodri and Nia being sent away ... that didn't feel like a coincidence. Did she suspect something, or had she just felt the resistance from the others earlier? Either way, we would have to dance on eggshells if we wanted to stand any chance of executing our super-secret plan.

"Eira?" I tried next.

"We'll see how she is."

I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. At least I'd have Liam with me. It wouldn't be much comfort for my wolf, who preferred to be absolutely surrounded by members of our little 'pack,' but it was something.

Noticing our scowls, Mam dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out a crumpled twenty. "Make the most of tonight, kids. You won't be back here for a couple of months. First drink's on me, but you'd better be functional come tomorrow lunchtime."

I took the note, a mischievous smile spreading across my lips. "This reminds me ... don't sleepers get paid?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, they do. You can take your wages out of Silver Lake's multimillion-pound savings accounts once you're Alpha and Luna."

Oh, I liked the sound of that. In the meantime, we'd have Liam's salary as a pack fighter to live on. I literally had no idea how much they got paid, since accommodation and meals were all provided, but it had to be more than what I was scraping as a freelance raider.

"Unless you've got any more questions for me, you're free to go," Mam said as silence fell over the tent once again. I didn't need any more encouragement to hop off the table and make for the exit. Liam wasn't far behind me, until— "Oh, and kids? Please make sure the first time you kiss isn't where all of Silver Lake Pack can see it."

It became a sudden effort not to run from the tent. As it was, I failed to suppress a strangled groan before ducking outside and giving Liam a look.

"Shit," he breathed, scratching the back of his neck.

Shit indeed. We had a clock on it now. A deadline. I tucked my hands into my pockets and chewed on my tongue. "Shit's about right."

Liam nodded. "Yeah. I signed up for a suicide mission, and instead I'm being forced to make out with a beautiful girl? How is this fair?"

I choked on thin air. When I'd recovered, I stalked closer to him and stared up at him with wide eyes and a challenging curl to my lip. "Oh, is that how you want to play it?"

"Could be."

"Well, I think you're all talk," I told him. "When the time comes, you'll tuck tail and run."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Liam put his mouth close to my ear, but not so close that I couldn't see the little smile tugging at his lips. "We'll see."

Oh, it was infuriating. I was supposed to be the confident one, not him. All my experience stringing boys along, and somehow I ended up flustered and fumbling for words whenever he pulled that shit on me. I could only hope it didn't show.

When Liam stepped back again, clearly satisfied with how utterly frustrated I appeared to be, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and tried to pretend like none of it had happened. Somehow, he'd managed to knock all the awkwardness right out of us.

We traipsed across camp, heading in the direction of the campfire despite the fact that the sun was still up. It was so bitterly cold that I doubted the others would be anywhere else. There was a brisk wind sweeping across the hillside tonight. The canopy swayed above us as the forest breathed, the smaller trees bowing against the force of it.

There were two boys pressed up against a tree at the edge of camp. They were cast into shadow, so I didn't notice them until the taller of the two let out a little yelp. I stopped walking, Liam stopped walking, and we both took about a heartbeat to recognise Bryn.

The other boy, whom I'd slept with once or twice, had him pinned against the trunk. He was called Mike, if I remembered correctly.

"Hey, could you just—" Bryn was trying to say. "I'm not— That's enough, yeah?"

And Mike ignored him. If anything, he moved closer and readjusted his grip to put an end to Bryn's gentle squirming.

Oh, no. Hell no. We didn't stand for this.

Liam and I started moving at the same time, but I was faster than him, as always. I got there first and yanked the guy backwards by the shoulder, ignoring Bryn's wide eyes and rapid head-shaking. Mike just swore at me furiously. Now that I was closer, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You deaf?" I demanded. "He was telling you to stop."

Mike spat on the ground. "I heard him. Mind your own business, yeah?"

My knee snapped upwards and caught him in the fork of his legs. It was reflex, really. I couldn't help it. It was only a glancing blow, not nearly as forceful as I would have liked, but Mike didn't enjoy it much.

He took a clumsy swing at me, which was easily ducked, and before he could try again, Liam was there to pull him over backwards. Mike hit the ground with an audible oomph. He lay where he'd fallen, partly because he was pissed out of his mind and partly because Liam's boot was crushing one of his hands into the mud.

"I could've done that," Bryn said in a very quiet, very defensive voice.

Liam looked up at him warily. "You shouldn't have to."

Ignoring that, he peeled himself away from the tree trunk and tugged at Liam's arm. "He's had a few too many, that's all. It's fine. Leave him."

Leave him? Like hell. I'd been teetering on the edge of violence, staring down into that endless, black pit, and that suggestion succeeded in pushing me over. I lunged at the guy, intending to do some throttling or punching or something, when Liam caught me around the waist and stopped me dead in my tracks.

"What the hell?" I snapped. "You can't seriously be protecting him?"

He set me down, wriggling and indignant, but he was now between me and Mike. "Not him. You. Emmett would skin you alive."

Oh. Right. I stood quietly. It had been easy to forget that the Joel incident had come with repercussions. If I laid into one of his raiding mates in full view of the camp, there'd be no easy outs. No plausible deniability. Mike was not my jurisdiction, and his boss reserved the right to mete out any punishment he saw fit.

"We can't just let him walk," I said wearily.

"No," Liam agreed. "But let me worry about that."

"It's fine, Eva," Bryn insisted again. "Both of you can back off."

"If it was Eira, would you say it was fine?" I asked.

That stymied him. He went quiet, looked down at Mike and gave a little nod. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, but just— I shouldn't have started anything while he was drunk, so it's kinda my—"

I put a finger over his mouth. "Not another word from you. I'm not going to do shit, okay? Not right now, anyway. Let's just get out of here."

"Campfire's this way," he told us, a little breathlessly. "Let's ... yeah."

We followed him. I tried not to look backwards, but I couldn't help it in the end. The briefest of glances showed me Mike pushing himself onto his knees and retching into the ferns. He was drunk, yes, but not so drunk that he'd forget a beating.

We found the others sat around a rather smoky campfire in the centre of camp. Even Eira was there, for once, although she was curled up in her chair and nursing a hot chocolate. Hayden and Hannah were still enjoying their freedom for the time being ... although perhaps enjoying was the wrong word for it. They looked bloody miserable.

I plopped myself down in the only free chair. It was the creaky one with the broken armrest, but it would do. Liam walked straight past me to reach Nia. He leant down to whisper something in her ear.

Nia stood up abruptly, gave him a little nod and then disappeared off. Justice would be served, then. I was pretty sure she could beat up whoever she liked, and if not, she could probably make Emmett do it himself.

Bryn watched her go. He was chewing on his lip and picking at his fingers, but he didn't try to stop her. He just sat himself on the ground in front of Eira and bumped fists with her by way of greeting. Within a minute, he was using her legs as a backrest and her knees as a pillow and chucking twigs into the fire to distract himself.

On the other side of the campfire, Rhodri had a girl on his lap. It wasn't a girl I knew by name, but I supposed I'd seen her around before in a vaguely familiar sort of way. Hannah was in the next chair over. Her eyes were fixed on the flames, and her jaw was firmly clenched. Maybe flockies were more discreet when it came to the adult sort of affection. One glance at Hayden showed me that he was certainly a little pinker in the cheeks than usual...

"Who's your friend?" I asked him as I crossed my legs.

"Dunno. We haven't got that far yet," he said, squeezing the girl's thigh. "What's your name, love?"

She only laughed and brushed a few strands of dark hair from her eyes. "Harriet."

"Hi, Harriet," I muttered dutifully. "Nice to meet you."

"Aren't you going to ask me my name?" Rhodri asked her playfully.

That earnt him an eye-roll. "I know who you are, jackass. Everyone does. And also—"

"Wow. Thanks a bunch, Harriett. Like his ego needs any more fuel," my sister groaned. She and Rhodri bickered almost as much as Bryn and Ellis did, and it never failed to amuse me.

He smirked in that smug, infuriating way of his. "Hey, she's just telling it like it is."

"Also, we hooked up like two years ago," Harriett finished.

And now Rhodri's face twisted into alarm. All of a sudden, he was sitting up much straighter. "We did?"

"Yeah," she said patiently. "It was Halloween, and we were camped just outside Shadowless. Does that ring any bells?"

"Um." He scratched at the back of his neck, looking at the sky for inspiration while he wrangled with his memory. A pleading glance at me was answered with only a shrug. I didn't have the time or energy to keep track of everyone he swapped saliva with. "I... Honestly, no."

"Very flattering," Harriett muttered. "But hey, I'm a forgiving person. You get one free pass."

"Well, don't get too comfortable," Eira told her. "Rhodri's on washing-up duty for the entire month, so he's only got another five minutes."

Bryn sniggered. "Yeah, Rhodri. Chores before whores."

The poor girl gave him a very indignant look and then turned to Rhodri. "Is that true? You have to leave?"

He gave a non-committal groan. Clearly, he'd forgotten about the consequences of his little beat down. I didn't join in the answering laughter if only because it had been for my sake, but even Hannah-the-emotionless-fun-hating-statue managed to crack a smile.

"Let's see it, then," Rhodri sighed at me. "Before I have to disappear..."

It didn't take a genius to understand what he meant. Grudgingly, I tugged my collar down to display the mark. It was still very red, and I got to enjoy a wave of throbbing as the fabric scuffed it. The other residents of the campfire gawked like peasants.

Bryn was the first to wrinkle up his nose. "Shit, Liam, I'm not gonna lie now, mate. It looks like you was trying to take a chunk out of her."

Liam looked very much like he wanted to set the record straight on that account. I shook my head ever-so-slightly at him. I wasn't quite sure why, except that secrets were fun, and this bunch of shitheads didn't deserve the truth. They'd done nothing but harass us for the last seven years. If I had a pound for every time I'd heard Liam and Eva sitting in a tree...

"He's not wrong," Rhodri muttered. "Gently does it, alright?"

We sat around for another hour, perhaps, chatting and eating our suppers when they were brought around. Maggie was catering for the whole camp tonight, so it was good food. I'd just set my bowl aside when I spotted one of the young entrepreneurs who sold alcohol at slightly elevated prices passing by. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled to call him over, and then I dug out the twenty from Mam.

I picked out as many drinks as I could afford. Cheap wine for me and Eira to share, although she wasn't technically supposed to drink, beer for the less civilised of us and a bottle of rum because it was the only stronger spirit he had. I didn't get any change for the twenty.

The drinks were distributed messily. Nia hadn't returned and Lily had gone off to track her down, so there weren't as many of us as usual, and it was a fast process. Soon, Hayden and Hannah were the only ones left without a drink. Both of them were tracking my movements with their eyes.

Taking pity, I leaned down and snagged two cans of beer. The first one ended up in Hayden's lap. He popped the top with a muttered 'thank you.' The second one I extended towards Hannah, and she spared it the barest of glances before shaking her head.

"Get over yourself, would you?" I sighed.

Hannah snorted at me. She seemed happier now that Rhodri and his temporary girlfriend were gone, but not by much. "If I drink that, I have to watch my blood sugar all evening, and I'd much rather just go to sleep."

"Oh."

I tossed the second beer to Hayden, too. He could drink for both of them. And who knew — maybe he'd be more fun if we managed to get him properly drunk. It was almost a pity that I wouldn't get to see if it worked, but I had things to do.

With that in mind, I went over to Liam. He handed me his drink without even being asked, and I took a deep draught of the contents. Rum and coke. The alcohol was just an aftertaste, but there was something about the drink which conflicted. Sweet and harsh in equal measures. I could pick out smoke and caramel and vanilla, all chased by the sharpness of the bubbles against my tongue.

"I'm gonna bounce in a minute," I told him as I handed it back. "Gotta tell Finn that I'm leaving so he doesn't get all worked up and start asking awkward questions."

Liam stretched out in his chair and swilled the drink in his hand. "I thought you were pissed at him."

I shrugged. "Nah, that wore off."

"Oh," he said. "He ... he seems alright, I guess."

"He is."

Liam looked up at me for a moment. He didn't exactly smile, but the nod I got was close enough.

Next, I went to snag the wine bottle from my little sister. She'd already downed two-thirds of it, so I didn't feel too bad about repossessing the rest. She grinned at me as I took a series of quick gulps. "Where are you running off to?"

I rolled the bottle between my palms. "Finn Sullivan."

Eira made a contented noise in the back of her throat. "Nice looking boy, that one."

"I s'pose."

"You s'pose?" she demanded. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Bet you think Liam's hotter, don't you?"

I gave her a flat stare.

"You're wrong," Eira continued, smirking a little, "but each to their own, I guess."

Below us, Bryn cracked open his eyes for a moment. "Hey, guys, like ... try to imagine how you'd feel if you overheard a similar conversation about girls. Objectifying people isn't cool."

"Yeah, Eira," I chimed in, knowing full well I wasn't exactly a saint in that regard. It was quite normalised, if only because there were a few double-standards at play.

"Mm. I do see your point. Alright. Sorry, Bryn," Eira sighed. She beckoned me closer as if she was going to whisper something, and I obeyed reluctantly. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

She winced a little. "It's kinda awkward, actually. I think I might ... y'know ... like him. Liam, I mean."

Um. Where the hell was this coming from? They weren't exactly friendly with each other. I couldn't think of a single occasion when they'd spoken of their own volition... I took a good, long swig of the wine and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Oh," was all I said. It came out very rigidly. "Okay."

Eira burst out laughing. "Kidding. Shit, Eva. The look on your face..."

Well, thank the Goddess for that. I didn't have the energy to even begin untangling that mess. The sudden rush of ... something that had come bubbling to the surface at those few words could be safely packed away again. I thumped her with only the tiniest bit of annoyance, and she sent me on my way without any more teasing.

Nearly ten minutes later, I found Finn in a circle of Emmett's raiders. Ryker was present and halfway through a bowl of lasagne which could only have come from the food truck. His mate, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Finn himself looked like he was dozing in his chair. His eyes were closed, and he had a mug of something balanced between his knees. He looked quite cute like that — all sleepy and ruffled, and I couldn't help the smile which crept across my lips.

It faded just as quickly when I saw who was sat beside him. Joel. He glanced up at me, only to duck his head again and fiddle with the zip of his jacket. Even days later, his face was still closer to blue than white. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten about the 'incident' yet.

"Ah, ah," Ryker told me. "Shoo."

Dammit. I'd forgotten about the unofficial restraining order against me. It had been stupid of me to come here so openly, and it had been a stroke of luck that Emmett wasn't here to chew me out.

"I ain't staying," I muttered.

That quickly, Finn was wide awake. As he jolted, he knocked the cup and splashed some dark liquid over his jeans, but even that didn't manage to wipe the grin off his face when he saw me.

Ryker shook his head. "Don't care. Turn around and start walking, or I'll have to do something unpleasant."

"What if I apologised? Could I stay long enough to do that?" I tried.

He sat forwards in his chair and shrugged. "You'd be confessing, pup, so be my guest."

Yeah, and if I confessed, he could make Mam punish me, too. There was always a spare drying-up cloth lying around somewhere.

I turned to Joel and swallowed hard, trying to wrestle a contrite, regretful look onto my face. "I'm sorry that you're such a prick. Really, I am. If I could do anything to—"

Ryker was on his feet in about a heartbeat, "Alright, step off, Eva. I ain't telling you again."

Worth it. I held up my hands in surrender and stalked back into the trees. I kept walking until I was past the place where all the guys went to piss, and then I realised the wind was blowing the stench right towards me anyway and backtracked.

Finn came after me. He had to wait a few minutes, of course, or it would have looked suspicious, but I didn't have to stand around for long before I heard twigs crunching underfoot and saw a silhouette coming through the undergrowth towards me.

I didn't waste time talking. I just caught the back of his collar and pulled him down into a rough, messy kiss. That lasted a fair while. We broke apart just long enough to fill our lungs and grin at each other before his lips were on mine again.

Hands under my shirt. Skin under my fingertips. There had been enough wine to make everything sharper and more vivid, but not enough to cloud my mind. It was all going incredibly well until Finn moved his lips to my neck and worked his way down to my collarbone ... and the fresh tooth marks below it.

"What the ever-loving hell is that, Eva?" he demanded.

Oh no. There was something so confrontational, so accusing about that tone. I shoved his chest just to make him take a step back. It wasn't an easy thing to explain. Not without, like ... outing myself. I was ninety-nine percent sure that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone I was going to Silver Lake.

See, when raiders were captured, the first thing they endured was an interrogation about sleepers, and interrogation was a nice way of saying torture. It was easier for them if they didn't know anything, in a way, because then they couldn't be tempted. If — Goddess forbid — Finn found himself on the wrong side of a prison cell, he could end my life and Liam's with a handful of words.

And yet ... I trusted him, somehow. He didn't seem like the sort to break under the knife, although admittedly very few rogues seemed like that sort.

"It's not real, Finn," I sighed. "I'm leaving tomorrow. My mother's sending me into Silver Lake as a sleeper, and this is part of the cover story."

He eyed the mark again. "Silver Lake, huh? So this was Kendrick, I'm assuming. He's going too?"

I nodded.

"There's rumours about you two, y'know," Finn said quietly. "They true?"

I had to stop mid-nod and instead shake my head.

"Good."

It was an effort not to roll my eyes. "But that aside, I'll be gone for weeks, so this ... thing we're doing, whatever it is ... it ends tomorrow."

Finn inclined his head. "Fair enough. One question, though. There's still a few hours of today left..."

"That wasn't a question," I laughed. "But I think I catch your drift."

"Yeah, I think you do. We can go back to my tent," he offered with a rueful grin. "If you want, that is..."

I glanced backwards. Scattered through the trees were patches of flickering light from the campfires, and I could hear snatches of rowdy conversation from their inhabitants. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, to be honest. A reason to say no? Some sign from the Goddess herself? Whatever it was, I didn't find it. I turned back to Finn and smiled wearily.

"Sure," I said.