Rhodric didn't shout at us. Instead, he went about cleaning up our mess, barely sparing either of us a glance. But there was disappointment in his gaze ... and somehow, that was far worse than shouting.
The first thing he did was deal with Old Jeff, who had begun pacing in small circles. "Sit down," Rhodric said with that tone that dared you to disobey him.
Jeff did so without complaint, drumming his fingers on the table in no particular tempo. He watched silently as his son removed every potential weapon in sight. Only when we were completely safe did Rhodric finally turn his back on the old man to examine Rhys's wound.
"We need pressure on this," he said. "It's deep."
"I really don't need—" Rhys's complaint was cut off by a sharp stare.
He let his father manhandle him into a chair. Evidently, he wasn't impressed by my flimsy dressing, because he removed it in favour of a wad of cloth and a considerable amount of pressure.
"Honestly, Dad, it'll heal in a few minutes," Rhys tried again.
"Shut up."
Rhodric was digging out a first-aid kit with one hand. Why Jeff would have something like that, I didn't know. I'd seen him cheerfully bleed all over the floor of his hut without ever seeming to notice on more than one occasion.
When the bleeding finally stopped, Rhodric put a clean dressing over the wound, and then motioned to the door, his meaning very clear. Get out.
And so I dragged Rhys onto his feet and helped support his weight as we shuffled out of the door. No matter how fine he was pretending to be, he had lost enough blood to make him lightheaded at the very least. It was only when we were sat on the grass outside that I finally realised Fion had left my mind, probably as soon as we were out of danger.
"We're alright — heading home now," I told her through the link, hoping Jeff was far enough away. The last thing I wanted to do was set him off again.
Instinctively, my mind brushed against Leo's. As best I could tell over so much distance, he was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, I returned my thoughts to the present. Rhodric had joined us outside.
"I'm sorry," I began. "We just—"
"I'm not angry, Skye. And you don't have to apologise," Rhodric interrupted.
"Could've fooled me," I muttered under my breath.
He fixed me with a piercing stare. "I warned you about Jeff, and you didn't listen. I'm disappointed, but I'm not angry. Now, come on. Help me get him up. We've got a long way to go and plenty of time to talk."
Rhodric lifted Rhys to his feet. He refused all of our attempts to help him and walked unaided. His wound would be healing by now, and that was always an itchy and uncomfortable process.
"He's family," Rhys said quietly, a few minutes into our walk. It sounded like a rebuke. "We can't leave him alone in the woods forever."
"And you're too much like your mother, boy," Rhodric snorted. "She was reckless beyond belief."
"Is that she would have done? Visited her family no matter how dangerous it was?" I asked.
Rhodric sighed loudly. "Yes. And I can't really fault either of you for it. Just remember that I'll be the one to bury you when your luck runs out."
"We'll remember," I promised.
He grimaced. "And he's not your only family, Rhys. Don't forget that. Next time you feel like some bonding, go and see Maggie. Or your cousin — he's only a year younger than you, and unlike your grandfather, he won't murder you on a whim."
Rhys raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You mean the Prince of Anglesey?"
"Yes, a nice lad by all accounts. Anyone but Jeff," Rhodric muttered.
"What about me? What if I want some family bonding?" I asked with a grin.
"Go find your twin. I'd imagine Kara from New Dawn would be a good place to start. You too look too similar not to be related," he told me, very unapologetically.
"Gee, thanks. You're very helpful."
My search for a long-lost twin had been put on the back burner because I was focused on scaring my rogues back into order. It might have been that all I needed to do was visit Kara, find out where she had grown up and therefore know whether or not we had shared a womb for six months. But for now, I had other priorities.
Rhys stumbled over a tree root, making my heart jump in my chest. He landed heavily on his injured arm, groaned and remained lying on the ground. Rhodric just shook his head, smiling.
"Don't be so dramatic. If you walked this far, you can damn well walk the rest of the way."
"Father of the year," Rhys grumbled, but he picked himself up to meet Rhodric's eyes.
A throaty chuckle was Rhodric's only reply.
When we neared the camp after a very long walk, Ollie was there to greet us with a squad of hardened fighters in wolf form. They fell in around the three of us as an escort. My second in command gave me an exasperated look.
"Fion told us you were in danger again," Ollie explained.
"Is there anyone Fion didn't tell?" I teased.
Ollie rolled his eyes at me. "She was worried. Can you blame her? I mean, Rhys is covered in blood."
"I'm fine," Rhys said defensively.
"Yes, he is," Rhodric agreed. "And now that you two are safe, I need to go back."
I whirled to face him in alarm. "Go back?"
He shrugged at us. "Jeff takes a very long time to calm down. I should keep an eye on him."
"Alone?" I demanded.
Rhodric smiled, making me think he knew something we didn't. "Oh yes. I'm the only person he won't attack."
"He killed his daughter," Rhys muttered. "What makes you think he won't kill his son?"
"It has nothing to do with sentiment," Rhodric said. He turned to leave before we could quiz him any further. "Good night, kids."
"Night, Dad," I replied with a resigned shake of my head.
"I didn't leave that gate open so you could get yourself killed, Skye," Ollie told me as soon as Rhodric was out of earshot.
"Hello? Still alive, aren't I?"
Ollie gave me a sympathetic look. "I say this with all respect for you, both as my friend and my boss, but I've seen corpses who look better than you do right now."
"Nonsense," I said, attempting to tame my tangle of hair into something a little more presentable. It was probably the bruises covering my neck that were bothering him most. Jeff hadn't exactly been gentle.
"As for you, Rhys," Ollie began.
Rhys turned his head, giving his friend a cold stare. I was surprised Ollie's kidneys didn't liquefy on the spot. Rhys's lips spread into a more dangerous version of his usual grin.
"Well ... you look just fine," Ollie stammered out.
Rhys raised an eyebrow at me. "And that's how it's done."
"Just because I don't glare at everyone..." I argued.
Everyone burst out laughing, even the ones in wolf form. It was a little weird seeing a wolf laugh. "What?" I demanded. "What's so funny?"
"All you do is glare at people, Skye," Rhys explained with a grin.
"That and hold knives to their throats," Ollie added.
Okay, maybe there was some truth in that. It was hard to keep the raiders in line without some firmness and the occasional bit of force.
"And what I just did to Ollie ... you do that all the time! I don't think you even notice, but most people are wetting themselves when you're mad these days."
"Huh," I murmured. "Really?"
"Really," Ollie and Rhys confirmed at the same time.
We reached the camp borderline. Several scrawny children played amongst the trees at the fringe. As we walked past, they stared openly, and some followed behind us in a triumphant procession. I was pleased to see they looked a lot better fed than most of our kids had been in recent years.
Jace's money had really helped us. I was also actively searching for people trained up in economics to make investments and build up our own endless pool of money, much like the packs did, in the hope than one day we wouldn't need to rely on the funds that I'd blackmailed out of Jace.
Another group of children joined the followers. A familiar face beamed up at me from amongst them. "Sammy!" I shouted. "You staying out of trouble?"
Rhys swivelled at the name and crouched down for the six-year-old boy. Little Sammy ran at full force to his honourary big brother. I winced a little in sympathy for Rhys's injured shoulder, but he didn't even flinch. He must have healed.
"I get in trouble, just like you do!" Sammy yelled happily. "Rhys said every good rogue breaks the rules."
"Did you say that?" I raised an eyebrow at Rhys. "Are you leading our children astray?"
Rhys looked puzzled. "Of course. Isn't that our job?"
"Well, duh."
He grinned. "Have you made some new friends, Sammy?"
"I have lots and lots of friends! We're all going to the river now," Sammy said.
"Alright, then. Run along. Make sure you cause all kinds of trouble." Rhys ruffled up his hair before giving him a nudge in the direction of the other pups.
We watched the boy run off into the forest with identical smiles. Sammy only seemed to get braver, even after being held hostage by the ferals for over a week and watching both his parents die. One day, in a decade or so, he would make an excellent fighter, just as his mother and father had been.
"I'm going to see Fion and get some rest," Rhys announced. "See you in a bit."
It was pitch black and the moon was up, but I didn't feel like sleeping. Leo was already asleep, so I didn't have to worry that my restlessness might keep him up. Ollie seemed to have plans anyway — he drew me aside for a word.
"We've got reports of a man matching Malcolm's description east of here. You asked if I could tell you before Rhodric..."
I crossed my arms to keep warm. "Yes, thank you. If he finds out, he'll probably disappear off alone again."
"So I keep it quiet for now?" Ollie checked.
"If you don't mind. I'll let Rhys know on my own, and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
"Can I ask?" My second in command suddenly sounded unsure. "Why do you all want this man dead so badly?"
I shrugged at him. "Let's just say he killed a lot of people. My family included."
"So why is Rhodric the bloodthirsty one?"
"I never met my family," I sighed. "He did."
He seemed to accept that easily enough. Ollie fiddled with the zip of his jacket. "Tomorrow's court day."
I groaned. "You mean more whiny prisoners for me to sentence?"
"Nearly a dozen of them," Ollie confirmed, smiling again.
"I look forward to it."
A howl in the distance caught my attention. Even as I paused to listen, more voices joined the first, sending an eerie harmony through the night air. They weren't hunting howls, though. No, they had an urgency to them ... a warning, from our patrols.
It took exactly three seconds for the camp to process the danger. After that, chaos erupted on all around me as the raiders made beelines towards their families. I eased my knife from my pocket and squeezed it in readiness.
"That was Ryker and Emmett's patrol," Ollie spoke hurriedly. "They caught the scent of a flockie who crossed the perimeter maybe half an hour ago."
"Which pack?" I asked while simultaneously summoning Rhys and Rhodric through the mind-link.
"They don't know. So most likely one of the outlying packs."
"Not friendly, then," I surmised. "Let's evacuate the camp."
"All this for one wolf?" I didn't notice Kevin until he was beside me. The guy had been very withdrawn since his twin had been paralysed. I was glad to see him out and about for once. But still, I pressed a finger to my lips and dragged him off to one side. With the amount of mind-linking Ollie needed to do, he didn't need any distractions.
"It only took seven of us to kill hundreds of ferals," I pointed out in an undertone.
"True enough. Can I help?" Kevin asked.
"Yes. Round up the kids — they're at the stream." I looked around at my bodyguards, searching for a familiar face. "Aaron, you go with him."
The broad-shouldered wolf gave me a brisk nod and followed Kevin into the trees. More howls came from the forest. A stream of the young and old hurried from the camp to the security of the castle cellars. It was effectively our panic room. At a squeeze, they could fit everyone, and with the door barred, it was almost impenetrable.
With the exception of the few fighters who guarded our children and infirm, every able-bodied werewolf was forming a ring around the castle. We were so focused on protecting the vulnerable pack members, we never guessed who was really at risk.
A flash in the trees to my left was the first warning. I turned to examine it further, squinting at what looked like light reflecting off metal. A faint click sounded. I wouldn't have been able to hear it if it wasn't for my wolf hearing.
I didn't decide to throw myself to the ground. Instinct alone made that choice. I had spent too much time around guns not to recognise the sound of the safety being taken off a rifle.
But I wasn't fast enough. Even as my body slammed into the dirt, pain exploded in the side of my head as a bullet tore through my flesh.