'Scared' was a mild word for what I felt. Not even 'terrified' quite covered it. Because when your life is in immediate danger, something beyond fear kicks in. Pure, unfettered instinct to preserve your life, no matter the cost or the consequences. And that is what I felt when we were caught spying on the strangers.

Nate didn't need to pull me away; I was moving backwards on my own. It didn't matter that we stumbled over roots and branches in our hurry — as long as we were getting away, it would be okay, I was sure.

Kai, though... He didn't even flinch. Just stayed behind the bush and stared at the shadowy figure with an odd frown. Something was puzzling him, or occurring to him, and it was clearly important enough to risk his life for. Not even my tugs at the mind-link could jolt him from his concentration.

"Or we have s'mores, if you prefer," the girl offered cheerfully. "You must be starving after all that running last night. So there's no need to be shy — come on out and say hi."

We stayed silent. Even though she didn't sound remotely threatening or angry, I found my flight instinct bubble to a crescendo. Leave, leave, leave, my wolf was insisting. Prey. Run.

"Really?" And this time, there was a hint of impatience in her voice. "Don't play games, now. And don't make us come looking."

Kai took a step forwards, as if in a daze. His gaze hadn't moved an inch, and I could have sworn there was an undercurrent of excitement through the mind-link. It worried me enough to make me take a step backwards, towards him.

Nate cursed under his breath at the movement. Then he too retraced his steps and called out cautiously, "We're coming out. And unarmed."

"I don't particularly care. Guns and knives won't help you now." It was said so casually that it didn't even seem to be a threat. Just a cold, hard fact. It didn't even occur to me to doubt her.

"Did you follow us from the coast?" he asked before moving any further.

I knew the real question there. Did you kill Brylan?

She shrugged. "Yes, and you led us a merry dance. I thought it was cute, personally. But you're done running now, so it's time to talk like adults. I won't say it again. Come out."

Kai didn't need any encouragement at all. He skirted the holly bush to stand in the open, and I saw a smile spread across his face. "I know who you are."

That woke my curiosity. I followed him and for the first time, got a real look at the strangers. All five of them were dressed practically: jackets and jeans and hiking boots. All five of them had suntanned skin from long days spent outside. And all five of them gave the impression of untamed wildness.

I sniffed subtly, and sure enough, their scents were distinct, even mingled with the smoke. And while I didn't recognise any of them, there was a foreignness which told me one thing clearly — they weren't from the island.

Rogues.

The one Kai was looking at, who was giving his marshmallow more attention than us, was the male from the crossroads. Damn him. In the daylight, I could finally pick out light-brown hair and hazel eyes. And, well...he was hot, however much I hated to admit it.

"Yeah?" he asked lazily, finally deigning to look up.

"I'm Kai. And you're Brandon Llewellyn, aren't you? My cousin?"

The rogue snorted. "Aw, for real? That wasn't even a halfway decent guess. Bran's been dead for almost a year, buddy. And good riddance."

Kai started frowning again. I reckoned he was lost now, stumped. I couldn't boast of any ideas of my own...although come to think of it, I wasn't sure I knew the names of any other mainlanders anyway, unless —

But, no. None of the strangers were the right age to be Rhodric. There were two girls: a ginger and the blonde one who had been talking to us. And the last was another boy, darker haired with an easy smile. The only one who looked a day over twenty was still walking in circles, and probably wearing a track in the ground. He had greying hair — so far too old. So much for that.

I gave up. And I no longer cared. As they didn't seem in a hurry to kill or maim us, did it even matter who they were?

The rogue from the crossroads pulled a crumbled piece of paper from his pocket and looked between it and Kai. A photograph, I guessed. Then he cocked his head sideways. "Damn. He's grown a bit, hasn't he?"

The blonde girl glanced down at the paper too. She said dryly, "Just a bit."

"But not enough," he observed. "Reckon he's the runt of the family."

She smiled reprovingly. "You're forgetting Nia."

And both of them turned back to us as the guy laughed, "Oh. My bad. You're taller than the baby."

Personally, I was dwarfed by Kai. So were the two rogue females. And my opinions of my height didn't improve when the rogues rose to their feet, so in sync that it looked rehearsed. The darker-haired male brushed pine needles from his clothes and sighed.

"Guys, we're being rude—"

"Deliberately," the first rogue muttered.

But he continued heedlessly, this time addressing us, "I apologise for his behaviour. He's just cranky because we left his mate behind" —here the others snorted their agreement— "so feel free to ignore him."

This new guy took the photo from his friend, receiving an irritated shove for his trouble, and handed it to Kai, saying, "There you go. You must have been about four, see? No reason for you to remember."

I leant in to take a look. There was Kai, yes; it wasn't hard to pick him out. The other two children in the photo, both light-haired and hazel-eyed, I didn't know at all. But one was far older than Kai. Old enough that he should be in his mid-twenties by now. And the other... looked vaguely like the rogue who was stood just metres away, scowling.

It didn't take much deduction from there. When I racked my brains, I could vaguely remember the queen mentioning two cousins. So even if Brandon was dead, this could still be—

"Rhys?" Kai asked quietly. It was hesitant in a way that made think he had been struggling to recall even more than I had. So much had happened since that short conversation with his mother.

Slow, sarcastic clapping echoed around the woods. "Ding, ding. Should I be amused or offended that it took you so long?"

So. This was Rhys Llewellyn. With an internal groan, I looked at the crossroad incident with a new perspective. Had I performed a pat-down search on minor royalty? Accused him of taking drugs? Bloody hell.

"Amused, I hope," Kai said mildly. "We weren't expecting you, that's all. What are you doing here?"

Rhys shifted his weight. "We could ask you the same thing. You're the one who was sending cryptic-ass messages..."

"...to Rhodric, not you."

An eerie silence fell over the camp while Kai waited expectantly for any kind of explanation. He didn't get one. The strangers exchanged looks which I couldn't even begin to unravel, and I could have sworn they drew closer to each other. Then an odd thing happened. Rhys Llewellyn's gaze swept over us, challenging, daring anyone to ask again. And when his eyes reached mine, I could have sworn that the defiance masked a raw pain. What?

Finally, with a face and tone empty enough to frighten me, the rogue simply said, "Shut up about my family or we're going to have a problem."

"They're my family too," Kai said too quietly.

All that earned him was a growl with enough force to have my wolf whimpering, not that it had ever taken much to get that reaction from her. My attention was almost entirely occupied by convincing her not to shift and show her belly. But the males on either side of me? They both tensed and shifted their weight onto their toes. Ready and waiting for a fight.

Instead, they got a mocking laugh. "Edgy, aren't we?"

"It's okay," the other boy said, showing his palms placatingly. "Relax. Like I said, you can ignore him."

Kai even smiled a bit. "We're trying to."

I wondered how they knew the extent of our wariness. But then again, I could feel tension radiating through the link, so perhaps they could too.

"We're here to help, I guess," he offered. Finally, someone willing to explain something. "For what it's worth, the five of us will do whatever we can. We'd have brought more wolves — but, well, we're fighting our own war back home. Against seven packs who make this Wyatt guy look like a fungal infection. We can't spare anyone else...and this is actually our summer holiday."

"Why, though?"

"To be totally honest, it's because we need somewhere to lie low for a bit. There was an incident involving a prison which pissed off a bunch of powerful dipshits. And because you're related to him" —here, the dark-haired boy jerked a thumb at Rhys— "and we happen to like him, when he's not being an ass, that is."

"Shut your mouth, Leo," the rogue grumbled, but it was half-hearted.

"So...who are they?" Nate, for the first time. He was staring at the old man, in particular, with thinly veiled suspicion, everything from the set of his shoulders to the angle of his stance oozing aggression.

Lazily, Rhys slung an arm around the blonde girl. "This is Skye. She's the boss. Leo's the polite one and Fion's the quiet one. And this is— You know what? How about you introduce yourself?"

These last words were uncharacteristically gentle and addressed to the old man, perhaps in an attempt to distract him from his insatiable pacing.

He looked up at us briefly, and I noticed faded green eyes, so like Nate's family. A mane of untamed hair, more silver than grey. And a crazed smile, complete with snigger as he said with increasing shrill tones, "My name's Jeff. My name's Jeff. My name's Jeff."

"Oh, not again," Rhys sighed, adding a good-natured curse. "Sorry. I made the mistake of letting him watch 21 Jump Street."

Although I wasn't willing to admit it, I had to choke back a laugh.

"Why don't you try again?" the girl called Skye asked, as part of what I assumed was a previous conversation.

He shrugged in reply. "Sure. He's calmer now, anyway." Then, to the old man, "Hey, Jeff. How about you sit down, yeah? We can have a look at your leg, maybe even fix it."

Jeff grimaced, and shook one of his legs thoughtfully. "There ish blood. Bloody leg. Bloody, bloody leg."

While he was giggling to himself about that, the rogues waited patiently. For my part, I mostly tried not to back away. I had guessed he was a Shadowcat by then. And if most of their species were dangerous, I dreaded to think what a mad version could do.

I took another look at his leg. There were blood splatters where the dark liquid had soaked through his trousers, and they were uniform spots. Tooth marks. So. Brylan... Well, at least he had fought back, I reasoned. So the old man's abilities included defeating a seasoned fighter in his prime as if he were a ragdoll. That made me feel so much safer.

"Jeff," Rhys said, more firmly. "You need to sit down."

"Bossy, bossy, bossy boots," came the muttered reply. He didn't even slow down, and a bird in the tree overhead decided it was scared enough to make a noisy escape.

They watched and waited for a minute more. Skye shrugged eventually, giving up. "Well, you tried—"

Then Jeff sat down, entirely of his own accord. He announced sadly, "Jeff's leg ish hurting. So the boy doesn't got to be bossy. Jeff knows what to do, yesh he does."

As it turned out, his idea of fixing the leg was first to tear his trousers to expose eight weeping puncture wounds, then lick his finger and prod them violently.

"Jeff, if you sit still and let me look, I'll find you a rabbit for lunch," Rhys offered while Skye crouched to wait for his agreement. They moved so carefully, so wary of spooking him. I wondered what had instilled such an instinctive caution, yet at the same time decided I didn't want to know.

"I likes rabbits," the old man said thoughtfully. "But Jeff can find his own rabbits! Yesh. Jeff can...but it ish boring, yesh it is.... Better to let the boy do the work."

That proved to be all the consent they needed. Both rogues examined the wounds as quickly as they could manage, then she called, "It's filthy. He'll need a poultice if it's going to heal anytime soon. Yarrow for the bleeding...and wild garlic, I reckon."

"I'll get them," the ginger girl offered. "We wouldn't want a repeat of the hemlock, now would we?"

"It looks like yarrow," Skye growled. I summarised that it was a regular subject of teasing. "But you're more than welcome to go plant hunting."

While all that had been going on, we had been completely forgotten. Just bystanders and onlookers to the queer scene. Now the girl who had been introduced as Fion looked straight at me and said, "You, come with me. I'll need someone to help carry them back."

Bullshit. Plants weren't exactly bulky, and she would have asked one of her companions if that was what she really wanted. But I was intrigued enough by whatever she did want to follow without question, despite Nate's minuscule shake of his head and Kai's frown. I knew I was safer alone with one friendly rogue than talking to the other four.

She waited until we were well out of earshot of the others before admitting, "I wanted to say sorry. For link-leeching you yesterday. But we needed to know what we were walking into and that seemed the safest way to do it..."

I whipped my head around to face her. Maybe I had been wrong about this being safer. "That was you?"

Fion smiled apologetically in reply. She stooped to pick a plant which I hadn't even noticed. It looked remarkably unremarkable. "Ribwort," she said by way of explanation. "It isn't what we're looking for, but there are a thousand ways to make a poultice if you know what you're doing."

I tried to memorise the dark seed head and pointed leaves, although I knew it was futile. I didn't have any talent for bushcraft or survival, which had been proved both at Evarlin and in the last month. So it was better to leave it to her.

But I did find the courage to smile and ask, "What happened with the hemlock?"

"Oh," she laughed. "We like to give Skye a hard time about that, but it wasn't so bad. A pack wolf had taken a chunk out of my neck and I sent her looking for herbs, only she found poison instead of medicine and I wound up in intensive care."

Wide-eyed at the pure complacency in her tone, I said, "Holy shit. Weren't you angry?"

Fion offered an uncertain smile, as if she didn't understand my alarm. "Of course not. She was only twelve and it wasn't deliberate... Quite the opposite, actually."

Rogues. That was the only explanation I could find for the flippancy and dismissal of danger. Fighting to maim at the age of twelve? The mainland sounded like a horrible place to me. And suddenly, our political struggles didn't seem quite so bad.

Another plant found its way into Fion's arms. It had clusters of white flowers and feathery leaves, and while it looked familiar, I didn't have a clue what it actually was until she said, "Here's the yarrow. Can you see any more?"

"That isn't enough?" I asked with disbelief. The existing plant was as large as my torso. And Jeff's wounds weren't exactly big.

"Oh, no. We need some for Rhys too." There was as a pause as I wondered about that, and Fion seized on the question without my voicing it. That was quite some use of the mind-link. "Yes, he's injured. And no, he's not going to admit it. Especially not with strangers around. But I can leave out extra poultice and hope he takes the initiative when no one's looking. Skye too. She got nipped fighting at the border."

Rogues, I thought again. Whether it was an unwillingness to admit a vulnerability or just plain old pride, they seemed far too willing to suffer. That Fion didn't make a big deal about it made me suspect she would do a similar thing herself.

"What happened?" Already, I could already guess the answer. Brylan's death throes.

I was wrong. Fion let her free arm hang loosely at her side, far too close to her knife belt to be coincidental. She wore the blade openly, same as the other rogues, and it made me skittish. "Your werecat friend attacked Jeff. No warning, no reason, no nothing. Jeff got upset...and he fought back, understandably. I don't think he meant to kill him... but things got out of control. Rhys tried to separate them, he really did — and got clawed up for his trouble."

I sensed the rebuke in her words and explained softly, "He wasn't my friend. Just someone we had to work with. But I'm sorry anyway."

"So am I. Jeff shouldn't have killed him."

A comfortable silence fell. We had been wandering back towards camp without me even noticing; the forest all looked the same to me. And somehow, the number of plants in Fion's arms had doubled, including an extra 'yarrow' sprig. It really was amazing how little I noticed.

When we arrived back at the tiny camp, the group had settled around the fire again, Kai amongst them, to my surprise. They lounged on the fallen logs and warmed their hands over the fire.

Only Nate stood a distance away from everyone else, stubbornly isolating himself. And while the rogues couldn't have cared less, Kai fidgeted with his jacket, distinctly uncomfortable at being the newcomer in a circle of strangers. I took a seat next to him and watched with satisfaction as a tentative smile replaced his frown.

The rogues worked together without words, effortlessly, to prepare the plants we had found, first by crushing them, then mixing them into a watery pulp. Applying the finished poultice to Jeff's wounds was significantly harder; he insisted that it smelt funny. In the end, Rhys had to buy his cooperation with the bag of marshmallows. Although Jeff hissed through the whole thing, he seemed amiable enough afterwards, even settling down beside a honeysuckle bush.

Nate had been watching the whole exchange with unveiled disgust. Now, as Jeff began shredding the pale flowers, he spat on the ground. "You need to leave. Take him off the island before he gets us all killed."

"Any reason why?" Skye asked it mildly, but there was something defensive in her stance. Defence of the crazy old Shadowcat whom they seemed to protect like a child. I wondered what he had done to earn that loyalty, if anything.

But Nate ignored her, turning instead to Kai. "It's bad enough that Rhodric isn't here himself. And even if that doesn't alienate my father, his presence certainly will. Better to send them away now."

"Nate, if you expect us to listen, you need to explain why your father would have a problem with Jeff," he said simply.

"Don't you know who he is?" he demanded, almost in a hiss. Our frowns were enough of an answer. "Because he ripped apart four innocent humans, shaming our entire species. Because he is unstable and dangerous. Because he is your grandfather. How many reasons do you need, Kaeden?"

Just when I thought everything was beginning to make sense...came that. And it shattered the fragile peace of mind I had managed to build. Because if the crazy, one-eyed old man in front of us had once been a king, I may as well quit.

Kai took it almost as well as I did. He almost fell off the log, righted himself, and sat there spluttering for a good minute before demanding of his cousin, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Rhys shrugged carelessly. "He's my grandfather too, you know. Not my fault if you didn't recognise him."

It was useless. I knew that. The rogues didn't play by the same rules, and they genuinely didn't understand our complaints. What we considered basic manners, they didn't seem to consider at all. So there was no point expecting anything.

Rhys's eyes went to Nate next and narrowed. "You know, Jeff talks when he's in a good mood. Most of what he says doesn't make sense to us, but occasionally... There was one very interesting conversation on the way over here. It was about werecat hierarchy. If you want Kai to send him away, maybe you should tell him the whole story."

Maybe he was lying, or exaggerating. But the seed of doubt had been planted. I saw Kai look at Nate with a suspicion that hadn't been there since Evarlin, and I hoped my own eyes didn't betray the same feelings.

"Your ignorance is expected, but my species is called Shadowcats," Nate said sharply.

"Oh, we know. We don't care. Jeff scares me — he can be a Shadowcat. But you? Let's just say oversized kittins don't get my legs shaking. So the rest of you are just werecats with an ego."

Nate decided to ignore it, sensibly. And kind of challenge just then would have ended in a fight. Instead, he spoke to Kai again, "Fine. Jeffrey is the oldest surviving son of the Silveryn House. My father only holds his position in Jeffrey's absence. If he stays here, he will be murdered because my people will not answer to a madman."

"He will be murdered because your father is a power-hungry, self-serving asshole," Skye corrected him. "But the motives don't matter — I will personally slit the throat of anyone who even looks in his direction. Jeff will stay. And he will stay alive."

"Who are you," Nate said slowly, "to make that decision?"

The rogues burst out laughing. Their laughter echoed long and lazily. And while it was obvious we were missing the punchline, it was also obvious that she did have authority of some sort. I just didn't have the faintest clue where that came from, and neither did Nate, by his frustrated scowl.

"Do you want breakfast?" Kai offered me, probably just to diffuse the tension. "They have food."

Rhys gave him an affronted look, his voice full of mischief. "You can't give away other's people's food, jackass."

"So I can't have any?" I asked in a very small voice.

"Of course you can, Sav. Just ignore—"

"Yes, ignore my cousin," the rogue interrupted. Possessiveness in those words. And I wondered if, despite his aggression, Rhys had already laid claim to Kai. "We've got everything from marshmallows to stew. So help yourself."

As if my snarling stomach mattered anymore. No. Now there were things to do, things to be done. The time for complaining and adapting was over.

"What's with the bickering today, little brother?" Skye teased. And she was looking at Rhys. What? They couldn't have been siblings. In fact, they couldn't have looked more different. So ... just ... what? I brushed aside yet another question which probably wouldn't be answered.

He gave a lazy grin. "The pup wants a fight. I figure he'll do better to pick one with someone who won't do any permanent damage. And like the nice guy I am, I'm volunteering."

I waited expectantly for Kai to deny it. He had never enjoyed violence, even against someone thoroughly deserving of it, like Ethan Rochester. But Kai dropped his eyes to the floor and kept his mouth shut. A cold pit opened in my stomach, the abyss of fear gaping wide. I knew he had been struggling since his mother's death, but this...

"Well, stop it. You can fight him later if it matters that much." She looked him up and down sceptically. "I might even take a turn. But right now, we're talking like civilised people. Okay?"

"Yeah," Rhys agreed with a shrug. "Okay."

"Later," she promised again. Then flicked her eyes back to Kai almost lazily. "So we're here and we're friendly. What do you want us to do?"

Kai's mouth thinned, and he braced his hands on his knees. "Do?"

"Yeah. What's the quickest way to clean up this mess? Unless you want to stay here and eat marshmallows, that is..." Skye didn't look like she would have a problem with that idea. "We could take you all back home with us, although it's not much safer there. Leave the jagoff to his own devices. Or we could kill him for you."

I sat to attention in a way I thought I had forgotten. Now, we would actually decide something. And as soon as I knew what I was supposed to be doing, I could stop being useless. Not since Evarlin had I had a clear job, besides keeping Kai alive, which hadn't been very time-consuming. A buried sense of duty had awoken, and now it wasn't easily sated.

One eyebrow quirked. "You think you could kill my stepdad? In a fortress on an island filled with a dozen of his men and a dozen of mine?"

She smiled without humour. "I think I could do it tonight, if that's what you want. Just say the word."

"I— No," Kai stammered. With more certainty, "No. That would only make things worse — far too obvious. And if I kill him for power, I'm as bad as he is."

"You wouldn't be killing him. We would," Skye pointed out irritably. "But fine. What's keeping you here, then? You wouldn't be the first Llewellyn to leave the island and turn rogue."

"No, but I'd be the last. Because my siblings wouldn't survive the year."

Rhys's head snapped towards us, his eyes flashing. "You have siblings?"

"Leah is seven and Logan is four. They're too young to be pawns ... but yes," Kai said warily.

"I don't want them for pawns, dumbass," he snorted.

A drawn-out sigh, tempered with resignation. "Well, Wyatt does. He knows I can't attack him while they might get hurt. Like a human shield made of children."

The rogues went eerily still. I assumed a mind-link, except there was no glazed look in their eyes. So perhaps it was another kind of communication, one that didn't need the link, or even words. Just as I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with their silence, Rhys and Skye caught each other's eye.

"Are you hearing what I'm hearing?"

"I don't know. It sounded like he was saying that some enemy asshole has my cousins."

"It did sound that way," she agreed. "Kai. Is that true?"

He sat up straighter. "Yes. They've been alone with him since my mother died. On Holyhead. And I can't do a damn thing about it without putting them in danger."

"Well, why didn't you so say so before?" Skye demanded, exasperated. She stood up very abruptly and brushed off her jacket. "Come on — we're leaving."

"What? Where to?"

There was no use asking. No one took any notice. The other rogues were on their feet before she had even finished speaking, breaking camp with amazing efficiency. Everyone seemed to know what needed doing and who should be doing it. I watched with wide eyes and a shocked frigidity as the fire was kicked out, the neat perimeter dismantled, and every boot print wiped away.

Somehow, they achieved the delicate balance of moving continuously without ever getting in each other's way. I can't say we managed the same — we sat where we were, stunned and helpless, while Nate scowled and stared at nothing.

Only when all four of the rogues were ready, rucksacks on their shoulders, and the clearing looked completely undisturbed, without even a trace of their existence left behind, did they seem to remember we existed. They frowned at us, a distorted reflection of our own expressions.

"Where are we going?" Kai asked again, this time louder and slower.

Skye's foot scuffed against the ground impatiently. "To get your brother and sister, of course. Are you coming?"