Another chapter! Yippee!! This one's nice and happy for once because I feel like you guys deserve that :)

I woke up to the sun streaming through the open windows. The rays were golden and bright enough that I had to squint as I tried to process that it was morning. Because that couldn't be right. Last time I'd checked, it had been mid-afternoon.

There was an arm draped around my shoulders, pulling me into a solid chest. I knew it was Liam. And I knew I wasn't wearing any clothes. But my brain took a moment to put those two things together, and that gave me plenty of time to panic.

What had I been thinking?

I risked a glance over my shoulder. He'd been asleep — or drowsy at the very least, but he'd felt me stirring and now he was waking up. That wasn't good. It meant I was drowning in those depthless dark eyes. He had this way of looking at me, like an adoring little puppy, and it never failed to pull on my heartstrings.

"I'm gonna be late for work," I blurted, rolling over to face him properly. "And you ... you're probably late already."

Liam just shrugged at me. There was a smile playing about his lips, and that made it so much harder. He looked happier than he had in a long time, although that probably had more to do with the good night's sleep than anything we'd done.

And with that thought, it hit me all over again. I'd been such an idiot. Hell, I hadn't even been drunk. That wouldn't have excused it, of course, but it would have explained it. Liam could blame it on my heat if he wanted. But me? I had no excuses.

I sat up in bed, keeping the duvet tight around me. "Do you know where my clothes are?"

He made a visible effort to look around the room and then turned back to me with a very sheepish look on his face. "Um, honestly ... no. But you can take my shirt if you like."

I'd have to. I was going to be very, very late for my shift. I slipped out of bed, wincing as the cold air nipped at my exposed skin. The windows were still open, and it was like the Artic in that room at night. As soon as I left the cover of the duvet, Liam made a point of closing his eyes. And that was sweet of him, but the sweetness only made me feel worse.

I'd screwed up. This was Liam. Not some random dude I'd never have to see again. And ... I'd never stayed the night with a guy before. I always crept away right after, so I could sleep in my own tent and not have to deal with all this. I didn't know how to let him down gently.

I pulled his shirt over my head, tugging it down to my thighs. It would do. I perched on the bed beside him and squeezed his fingers so he knew it was safe to open his eyes again. We needed to talk.

"Shit, Liam," I whispered, fixing him with a stern look. "This ... it didn't happen, okay?"

The smile turned into a fully-fledged grin. "It did, though."

He wasn't making this any easier. He'd gotten at least ten percent smugger overnight. And it would have helped if he'd put a shirt on, because all that bare skin was quite distracting. Once I'd noticed that, I saw that his hair was still tousled from last night, and I realised I'd quite happily fall into bed with him again. And that was the problem, wasn't it?

"I'm serious," I said firmly. "I'm going to shower, and then we'll chalk this up to adrenaline and never speak of it again."

Liam chewed on his lip. He was doing a good job of hiding the hurt, but I could feel it seeping across our link, nipping at me until I bled guilt. "Okay. That's ... yeah. That's alright."

I wanted to cry. This was my fault, and now both of us were miserable. And yet if I had a chance to do it all over again, I wasn't sure I'd choose any differently. I leant over to press a quick kiss to Liam's cheek, more an apology than anything, and then I hurried into the bathroom before I could change my mind.

***

There was a strange energy about the pack house that morning. Whispering in the corridors, people huddled together everywhere, their eyes darting around to stare at everyone who passed them. I noticed it before I'd even reached the ground floor, and down there things were much, much worse.

It was like someone had drawn the battle-lines while we'd been sleeping. There was a group of fighters shouting at the administrators in the lobby, and another few guys were walking around with armfuls of crumpled paper and scowls on their faces.

I was still late for work and getting later by the second, but I was curious, so I followed one of them down the corridor until one of the papers tumbled onto the ground. I knelt down to smooth it out, and then a slow smile spread across my lips.

It was screenshots of the fighters' group chat. Someone had printed them out and plastered them all over the pack house, it seemed. All the parts that could have identified Liam as the source had been carefully blacked out, and the worst of the comments were circled. If this wasn't enough to get the pack's attention, I didn't know what would be.

It cheered me up for about five seconds before I remembered about Joel and Finn and the butchered camp and how badly I'd screwed things up with Liam. Yesterday had been a low point, even by my standards.

I didn't make it as far as the med wing. I met Seth coming the other way, and he looked ... a good deal more frazzled than usual. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and he was in such a hurry that his eyes slid over me at first. I had to put myself in his path before he noticed me.

"You're late," he told me, his tone uncharacteristically sharp. "And you ditched work yesterday without even telling me where you were going."

"Yeah, and I don't have a good excuse, either," I sighed as I fell into step beside him. "But I'm here now. Where are we going?"

"Downstairs," Seth said. He was watching me carefully, looking for a reaction, and he certainly got one. The words that came out of my mouth were foul enough to make him wince.

"Do I have to come?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No. Goddess, no. I think it would be better if you didn't. Tell you what, go and set up a first-aid station on the lawn — I'll join you as soon as I can."

I didn't want to do that, either. That would mean patching up the fighters, and Liam was amongst them, and I really didn't want to see him. If we started avoiding each other now, it would probably mean the end of our friendship, yeah, but I wouldn't let it get that far. I just needed some time.

The morning training session was always busy. I could keep myself occupied dealing with little scratches and just hope that Liam would be wise enough to stay away. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I nodded at Seth.

"Eva, wait a minute," he said as I turned to go. I stopped warily, eyeing him over my shoulder, because the tension in his voice had rung some warning bells. "That rogue — the one you tried to kill..."

I swallowed and drew myself up defensively. "Yeah, what about it?"

"You know him, don't you?"

I chewed on my lip and said absolutely nothing. Seth, of course, took that for agreement.

"Friend or enemy?" he asked next.

Answering would mean admitting it. And I wasn't entirely sure that I could trust him. All the niceness could have been a ploy to bait me into confessing. He was still a flockie, for all his supposed enlightenment. I tried staring him down. He held my gaze steadily, not flinching from the scrutiny.

"I don't really know anymore," I muttered. At this point, who cared? We were going to have our cover blown one way or another — I might as well thoroughly earn it. "Maybe both, maybe neither."

"Boyfriend," he surmised dryly, and not for the first time, I wished he wasn't so damn clever. "I'm guessing an ex. Is he going to tell on you?"

"Probably."

Seth raised his eyebrows, the exasperation plain on his face. "Then what on earth are you still doing here?"

I shrugged at him. My hand came up to scratch at the back of my neck, and I let my gaze fall onto the ground. "Look, I never wanted to be a ... y'know. And when I met Alex, I took my chance and got into a pack. And I love it — I love being warm and safe and away from all those pricks. I don't want to go back to that life."

He nodded along. "You're quite good at lying, Eva. But it won't save you. If you tell Mason that story, all he'll hear is the word 'rogue,' and then he'll kill you."

My eyes snapped back up, and I was once again a rabbit in the headlights, because he seemed to see right through me. Seth stared at me for a few excruciating seconds, he sighed, and then he turned and continued on his way before I had to deny it.

***

I'd been on the grass for approximately ten seconds before I felt Liam nudge the mind-link. He did it once, and I ignored him, hoping he'd take the hint. He tried again, this time with more urgency. Slowly, grudgingly, I let it connect, but I made a point of waiting in stony silence for him to start the conversation.

He wasn't trying to talk, as it turned out. He just used the link to work out where I was and then came over in person. Like, he was physically there, all of a sudden, and I had to look at him and deal with all the frustration and guilt all over again.

"There you are," Liam said, as soon as he was close enough. He was talking fast, and I could smell the tension in his body. "We've just had the morning briefing.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and raised my eyebrows and waited, somewhat impatiently, for him to get to the point. He had his patrol jacket to keep him warm on what was turning out to be a drizzly, overcast morning. I had nothing because I'd been in such a hurry to get out of the room. It was a miracle that I was even wearing shoes.

He didn't flinch under the weight of that stare. "We're all on shift for the rest of the day — all forty of us — in case some rogues try and stage a rescue mission."

"What? Why would we do that? It's bloody suicide," I muttered. Yes, they had five of our kids, but we could throw dozens of raiders at this pack, and all of them would die. The flockies tended to bring out the rifles when we got too close to the pack houses.

"Apparently, Mason's been saying," Liam said, "that he's caught a lion. And I don't think it's true, but—

My chest was awfully tight, all of a sudden, and I spent a few seconds trying and failing to swallow. "Of course it's not true. They've just seen someone who's not Caucasian and gotten themselves all worked up. It wouldn't be the first time."

If there was a Llewellyn in those cells, I'd know about it by now. They'd have mind-linked me. No — this was bullshit. It had to be. Emmett's raiding team didn't contain any members of my family.

Liam didn't look so sure. "No, it wouldn't, but I tried the link, just to check. I can't reach Nia or any of the parents. And Rhodri ... he's still not answering."

"Sulking," I said, because Rhodri had been blocking us ever since he'd run off. It was nothing new.

He shook his head, sneaking a glance at where the rest of the fighters were gathered. "I don't like it. What if he came with the raiders? Used it as a distraction. It's what I'd have done."

The tightness in my chest was suddenly too much. It hurt, and it was making it difficult to breathe, and I shoved down all thoughts of that before I made it any worse, replacing them with a curl of my lip. "Yeah, well, Rhodri's not that bright, is he? He'll turn up."

"Yesterday, Mason said he had three prisoners," Liam said. "Finn, Joel and who else, Eva?"

That didn't really bear thinking about. I couldn't remember what Mason had said, and we didn't know if he was counting existing prisoners, so that was hardly damning evidence, was it?

And yet there was that little nagging voice in the back of my mind, and it was asking what if, what if, what if, over and over again until I tasted bile. If there was even the slightest chance that one of my family was here, being tortured while we spoke...

"Alright," I said. "I'll go down there now."

The relief on Liam's face was obvious. "Keep the link open, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course."

The walk to the prison was a blur. I was hurrying, I suppose, but my mind was going off on its own, conjuring up the worst possible scenarios for me to enjoy. The guards opened the door for me without a second's thought, recognising both my face and the red cross on my jacket.

And then I was padding down a step of rough-hewn concrete steps. It always felt dark down there, no matter how many of the floodlights were on, and the air tasted stale. I stepped over one of the drains cut into the floor, wincing at the crust of red around its edge. The smell of blood was cloying today — and no wonder, because Mason Vaughan had three new toys.

He wasn't actually there. At least, not that I could see. Neither was Seth ... or ... well, anyone. The main corridor was deserted. I edged forwards, mindful that this might be my only chance to look around unsupervised. Most of the cells were empty. The girl from last time was still there, once again unconscious. And further down the corridor, I could hear a toddler crying.

"Here to rescue us all?" a hoarse voice asked from behind me.

I turned slowly. Joel's face was plastered in dried blood. The bruises from yesterday had darkened and spread, and his eyes were red-rimmed, but he didn't look too bad, all things considered. There weren't any new injuries, and he was on his feet.

My instinct, once again, was screaming at me to kill him. A nice, quick knife in his throat to save him from worse. But there were bars between us, and he couldn't come any closer. He was chained to a ring on the wall.

"Funnily enough, no," I said. "Where's Finn?"

Joel nodded to my left and made a face. "There. Lucky bastard."

I turned my head to look and nearly jumped out of my skin, because there was a body lying on the floor, not three paces from me. Finn's brown eyes were open and unseeing and bloodshot. They'd dragged him out of his cell and then dumped him when they were sure he was dead.

There was hardly a mark on him — and I wasn't sure at first, how he had died, until I saw the ring of bruises around his neck. It was wide and splotchy, and that told me that whoever had strangled him had done it with their bare hands. It didn't really make sense. The flockies loved prisoners. Why would they kill one so easily?

It was a shock at first, yes. But I was glad, I supposed, because he'd clearly gone quickly. Or maybe glad was a strange word for it. He was dead. Yesterday, he'd been walking around and laughing with his friends and getting pissed on cheap spirits, in all likelihood, and now he was lying on the concrete in a pool of his own piss.

"I was wondering where you'd got to," Joel muttered. "Thought you and Kendrick might've eloped or something. It never even occurred to me that you might be sleeping because ... well, honestly, I thought you were smarter than that."

I took a step closer to the bars and glared at him. I didn't want to talk here, not really, given the chance of someone coming in, but it was too good of a chance to miss. "Have you told them?"

He winced, like I'd offended him even by asking. "Nah. I mean, they haven't even started on me, but nah. And I won't."

I shook my head. "Easy to say that now."

"I won't," he repeated. There was a hard edge to his voice now — an edge of anger, if I wasn't mistaken. He'd always had a temper, and I was questioning his bravery. It was undoubtedly the quickest way to annoy a raider.

"We'll see," I said.

"I mean it, Eva. They won't hear it from me. At the end of the day, we're on the same side, aren't we? Kendrick too. He's a dickhead, yeah, but he doesn't deserve this. No one does."

I swallowed hard, trying to force a lump from my throat, and then I murmured. "For the record, Joel, I don't think you deserve it."

He just shrugged at me. "I got caught."

"That wasn't your fault."

"No, it weren't," Joel agreed, and now there was a coldness in the words that I recognised all too well. "They knew we were coming. They were waiting for us. Do you know if Em and the others got away?"

"Nia said they did," I told him. "But the flockies got you lot, and they got the camp. And ... is there anyone else in here?"

I had to know.

"No," Joel said, but the pause spoke volumes. "I ain't seen no one. Just me and Finn and the kids."

It was smooth and offhand, the perfect image of indifference, but I'd seen his eyes flick to the corridor behind me.

"You're lying," I snapped. It wasn't the act itself that surprised me, but more the motive. Had Liam been right? Did they have a Llewellyn in here, after all? Or was I missing something?

"Eva," he said, and he tried to take a step towards me. The chains stopped him short. "Let's be smart about this. You can't do nothing, and getting yourself killed ain't gonna help nobody, is it? Just turn around and walk out now."

There was panic rising in me with every word that came out of his mouth. "And why do you care what happens to me all of a sudden?"

"Does it matter?" Joel asked, visibly bemused.

"Yes."

He looked at the ground and smiled to himself, like there was some private joke. I would've thought he was mocking me if he hadn't looked so damn miserable. "You wouldn't believe me."

"No? Try me," I snapped.

Joel just shook his head, slow and weary. "Maybe it's the same reason that I haven't told them who you are. Turn around. And leave."

I looked at him with absolute disgust and took a step back. Of course I couldn't just leave. He didn't know me very well if he thought a few words would send me scurrying back upstairs.

"When they do start on you," I said, "tell them that Felix is working with us. Say he wants to be Alpha and shit like that. It's what Mort was doing before he died. And you can say that Jace Lloyd is working with us, too, if you like."

I didn't really know what I was doing, but I did know that I was furious. Jace had allowed the other packs to send the sleeper, and that sleeper had passed on the camp's location, and now a bunch of kids were dead. Most of the Alphas didn't know any better — stupid and hateful as they were. But with Jace ... it felt deliberate. It felt like spite.

"Alright," Joel said. "I can say that. But first you've got to promise me you'll go back upstairs. 'Cause you can't help him, and I think you know that, deep down."

There was a coldness in the pit of my stomach. And it was spreading, creeping its way up my spine and stretching to the tips of my toes. I knew, somewhere deep down, what that meant. But I still didn't want to think about it. Joel was wrong. Whatever he thought he knew, it was wrong.

"Screw that," I said coldly, turning my back. "And screw you."

"Eva, wait," Joel snapped. And he punched the wall, probably gashing his knuckles open in the process. The clanging of chains against stone was enough to make me turn my head, if only for a second. "Shit. For once in your life, listen to me. Please."

He was pleading with me. He was actually pleading. Because apparently he cared more than I did. I gave him one last lingering look, and then I walked further into the prison. It was a big place. There were enough cells to hold an entire raiding team, and my footsteps echoed strangely.

Joel didn't dare shout after me, but I could feel him tugging on the link, desperate and relentless. I didn't understand why he cared so much, and it was scaring me.

I turned a corner. Then another. I was following the sliver of mind-link that led to Seth, and I was following the smell of blood. If Finn was dead, and Joel hadn't been touched, it begged the question — what had Mason been doing all this time?

At the last corner, I stopped, because I could hear faint voices.

"Is it safe to go in?" Seth was asking.

"Oh, yeah," Micah said. Of all the Vaughans, he was the one I'd least expected to find down here. "He'll be fine. He was lively earlier, but it turns out he can tap, so we dosed him up."

"If he's sedated, he can't talk to you, so there's really no point torturing him, is there?"

"We don't care about that," he laughed. "He's a lion, remember? We're not trying to make him talk. We're just tickling him."

I could sense Seth's disapproval from here. Quietly, he asked, "Is that really necessary?"

Micah snorted. "Necessary? No, of course not. But it sure is fun. And it's not like he doesn't have it coming ... I mean, he's the one who shot Mase."

I didn't want to turn the corner. I didn't want to see. And at the same time, I wanted it desperately. I took a series of quick breaths to find my courage, and then I stepped out.

Micah was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking as proud as a cockerel. Seth was at his shoulder with a syringe full of something clear. They were outside a cell with a single occupant, lying prone on the floor.

He'd been beaten and cut to the point where I wouldn't have recognised him. Not without the cropped light-brown hair and his scent in the air and the pair of hazel eyes which stared at us without any sign of recognition. Utterly vacant.

It wasn't that I couldn't breathe. It was more that I forgot, for a minute, that I needed to. It was only when my head was swimming that it occurred to me to open my mouth and suck in a lungful of air with all the desperation of a person drowning.

Because it was Rhodri. The realisation bounced around in my head a few times before it really stuck, and even then I wasn't sure I believed it. All this time, he'd been here, and we'd been wandering around, totally clueless.

There was blood on the concrete — a great puddle of it, and enough water around it to suggest that more had been washed away. I thought he couldn't possibly still be alive, not after losing that much blood, but I could see his ribs rising and falling. His entire body shuddered with every breath.

Alive. For now.

Some part of me was sensible enough to reach down the link to Liam. The link I'd closed, almost instinctively, the second I'd seen Joel. Liam had been waiting for me, and his worry spilled over in a great, sickening wave as the link connected. The torrent of fear coming out of my mind did nothing to reassure him.

"Liam, it's Rhodri," I whispered. "They've got Rhodri."

His silence said it all. His whole mind had gone quiet and still and empty. Even as I waited, I could feel the volume returning, slowly at first, and then in a dizzying rush. It was panic in its purest form, and it was building up to a crescendo.

"Can you try and get hold of Mam?" I asked, trying to ignore how my voice was breaking. "Or Nia. Or anyone. We need help."

"Okay," Liam said hesitantly. "The link's still dead, so I'll have to try the phone. Just give me a minute. Shit, Eva. Is he—?"

"Breathing. Just about."

It was all I could say. Once again, Liam went quiet, and I cut the link before I could start crying.

Seth was in the cell now, crouching beside him with his syringe uncapped, searching for a piece of skin that wasn't damaged. He wasn't having much luck. I darted forwards to get inside before Micah could close the door again.

"Sorry I'm late," I muttered. "I'll help, yeah?"

The young doctor gave me a look, but he didn't say anything. Up close, Rhodri looked even worse. Under all the blood, his face was purple with bruises and swollen, the skin stretched thin.

The rest of his body was hard to look at. Someone had cut patterns into the skin and seared them with something very hot to make sure they'd stick. There were words, too, and none of them were worth repeating. I'd never realised just how much the Vaughans must hate us.

I knelt on the concrete and took his hand in mine, squeezing tight and hoping there was some part of him that might understand. Bones ground together and crunched under my fingers, and I let go of him, recoiling like I'd been burned. They'd broken every bone in his hand.

Rhodri blinked then, letting out a shuddering breath, and I knew he'd felt it. Whatever they'd given him was keeping him still, but it wasn't taking away the pain. I tasted vomit in the back of my throat and swallowed hard. His blood was soaking through my jeans — I could feel the warmth and the wetness on my knees.

Micah hadn't even bothered to come inside. He wandered up the corridor a little way and leant against a wall to play on his phone. It gave us privacy to talk, I supposed, we would have to be very, very careful.

"What's the matter with you?" Seth asked in a low voice. "You know this one, too? For Goddess' sake, Eva. Wipe that look off your face before someone notices."

"He's my brother," I managed to say. My voice was raw and hoarse and made me sound perilously close to tears. "I can't, Seth. Could you— Will you do something? Help him. I don't know."

Slowly, he turned to look at me. His eyes were wide and wary, and this mouth was set in a thin line. "They're saying he's a Llewellyn."

"Well, he's not," I snapped. "They've got it wrong this time."

Seth nodded slightly, but he didn't look convinced, and I knew I was losing his sympathies with every passing second. "You want me to kill him, I suppose?"

I wasn't sure. It was what I should have done, probably. But it wasn't what I wanted to do. I'd grown up with Rhodri — and we'd spent almost every day of our lives together. I knew him better than my parents, better than my actual siblings, and better even than Liam.

"No," I said, and then with more conviction, "No."

"Then ... what? What the hell do you think I can do while he's watching?" he asked with a pointed look at Micah. It was gentler than I deserved, but the words bit deep, all the same. I didn't have any ideas. Unless we could get him out of the packhouse, we didn't stand a chance.

"I don't know, okay?" I hissed. "But if you don't do something, I'm going to tell them all about Crochet Club and your little stunt with the posters."

Seth's face hardened almost beyond recognition. I knew he was furious with me — but I couldn't find it in me to care, not while Rhodri was losing more blood with every beat of his heart. They'd brought him to the brink of death, and it was our job to bring him back again. To make a nice clean, healthy slate so they could start all over again.

For a long, long moment, Seth just looked at me. I could see the decision being made behind those calm brown eyes. He looked, and then he gave me the slightest of nods, and then he emptied his syringe onto Rhodri's shirt and drew up something else. Something from a bottle marked morphine.