After a long debate, considering many different songs, I have settled on one to summarise the entire book. And I don't think anyone will be able to disagree. Hey Brother by Avicii officially wins the title, and is attached above. The lyrics seem to just...fit. And if the sky comes falling down cracks me up every time XD. Skyfall tempted me, I'll admit. And Some Nights fits as well.

You all voted for an epilogue, so here goes. *nervous chuckle*

This story ended where it did for a reason, and that reason is that my life ended with it. Less than a week after the sacking of Lle o Dristwch, the Alphas felt in the mood for a hunt. A rogue hunt.

It didn't take them long to find us. We weren't exactly discrete people. The locals tipped off Jace, who then pointed the entire might of the packs in our direction. The cabin was besieged not even two days later.

I went down fighting of course. All of us did. But there were too many of them-hundreds, in fact. And after being tricked at the castle, they weren't feeling too merciful. Rhys died first, on some reckless attempt to kill the Alphas. Then Fion, because she was still recovering from Malcolm and childbirth.

I never did see what happened to Cassie. But she was human, so at least it would have been quick. Losing her mate would have crippled her so thoroughly, she probably welcomed death to some extent. The children were with her, and I doubt they lived long after that. Nia was a Llewellyn-a threat as long as she was breathing. And Sammy was a rogue, which is crime enough on its own.

Leo and I were the last to go. We fought back-to-back until we were bleeding from a dozen places. As best I can work out through the haze and confusion, my mate and I passed away within seconds of each other.

It turned out that Last Haven, had really been the last haven. We weren't safe anywhere, not with thousands of enemies who all thought we were the villains.

And I am, in fact, dead.

This story is being told from beyond the grave, ironically enough. I am projecting my memories into the dreams of a teenage girl in the hopes that someone will know our plight, and the reason my family lost their lives.

***

BAHAHAHA LOL JK. You knew I was kidding, right? Right?

What do you mean no?

Okay, I'm sorry. I'll even apologise. That was mean. So mean.

It was just too tempting. I think Skye is a bad influence on me. Yeah, let's blame her.

Sorry! To make it up to you, I'll even write a real epilogue. There. Happy now? Am I forgiven?

***

Family tree (to avoid confusion):

Twelve years later.

My children were being reckless idiots again. All twelve of them were racing up the cliffs behind the cabin. I didn't stop them though, except Matty, who was only a toddler. After plucking him off an outcrop of rock, I settled to watch from a fallen tree. They ran as a pack - six adopted and six blood-relations. Keeping them entertained was nearly impossible, so we mostly left them to it. Dangerous activities were a firm favourite, especially anything involving water, climbing, fighting, and trespass.

Sam was in the lead, of course. He had six years on the rest of them, even though it was my daughters who took charge. At eleven and nine years old, they somehow managed to boss everyone around. Including me, sometimes.

Even as I watched, Sam reached the top and helped Eva up. She had Leo's hair and my grey eyes, while her sister, Eira, had Leo's eyes and my hair. I had to admit, I'd been expecting twins, until Fion had casually informed me that it usually skipped a generation.

I won't bother naming all our orphans, because even I had difficulty reeling off their names most of the time. They ranged in age from Matty's three years to Sam's eighteen and came from a variety of packs.

"There's food," I shouted when they were all safely on the clifftop, because it was the only way to get them down. It was only partially a lie - Rhys would be back with lunch in hour or so, but until then, they had lessons to do.

Fion had insisted on educating all of them, which proved more trouble than I thought it was worth. They kicked up a fuss every lesson time, especially Rhys's boys. Rhodri and Bryn were as averse to education as their father had always been. It seemed to run in the family. But Ellis, my youngest, absolutely loved anything academic. I still wasn't sure where he got it from: Leo, probably.

The children grumbled and argued, but eventually Sam coaxed them down off the cliff. They went down the safe path, thank the Goddess. I wasn't sure if my heart could take another intense climbing session. How Rhodric had ever put with our recklessness, I had no idea.

"Where's Dad?" Rhodri asked when the little pack surrounded me. "He promised we could go raiding with him."

These days, I couldn't look at the boy without seeing his namesake. Cassidy's genes hadn't even registered. Her sons were both werewolf, and both wholly Llewellyn. Rhodri was a spitting image of his grandfather, while Bryn took after my brother. It was disconcerting.

"Don't be silly," Eva scoffed. "You can't go raiding without a tattoo. Everyone knows that."

I nodded at my daughter approvingly, silently thanking her for a good excuse to deny his request. In my day, a child could have run circles around the packs, but now ... even a ghost would have difficulty escaping alive. The escapades were left up to the bravest, most experienced fighters, like my family.

"Then we'll get tattoos, just like Sam's," Rhodri announced matter-of-factly.

That sparked a round of pleading from all the children, which ended in Sam pulling down the collar of his shirt far enough to reveal the dark ink. Last Haven, it said amongst whorls and patterns. There was a similar one on my own collarbone. We'd all got them after the castle fell. The rogues had been scattered to the four winds, and remained scattered for the sake of safety. So I had found a way to link us all together.

Cassidy had called us a cult; we had all just laughed. And a few days later, she let Rhys ink it onto her own skin. Right next to his own mark. Yet now all the children wanted a part of it, and they were far too young.

It absolutely terrified the packs. That tattoo was a symbol of defiance and unity with which they could never compete. So it had been outlawed. The words Last Haven equalled a death sentence these days. Yet somehow, my rogues could still be captured and live to tell the tale. Only in certain packs though-like New Dawn, for example. I never did get around to killing Jace.

I did get around to killing Keith, though. Only a few years after the sack of my castle, I led a small band of survivors to Silver Lake turf to lure him out. The Alpha himself put in an appearance, and then the rest of my fighters had shown themselves. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, Keith had gone down fighting.

In the chaos that followed, we had sacked the prison camp at Corwen, rescuing Ollie, Ryker, Emmett and a dozen more of my raiders. It was that band of escapees which formed the brunt of our raiding teams these days.

"Skye Llewellyn!" Fion shouted down the mind-link. "What's taking you so long? Lesson time started ten minutes ago."

"Sorry, sorry. We got side-tracked," I replied. Then, out loud, "Kids. Cabin. Now."

They started smiling in a way I didn't like, throwing each other mischievous looks. Before I could do anything drastic like say, grab them, the whole pack scarpered, running in different directions and vanishing. And I couldn't chase them all down at once, so I was left standing in the forest alone, trying not to smile.

"Shitheads," I spat, shaking my head affectionately. We had done similar things to Rhodric a hundred times. Granted, we had usually pushed him over first, just to make sure he couldn't follow. Fortunately for me, my children hadn't resorted to that yet.

Bryn had inherited the Shadowcat trait for overhearing mind-links, which was no doubt why they had chosen to run off. Any mention of education usually ended this way.

So I continued alone to the cabin, if you could even call it that anymore. We had renovated, then extended, then extended some more, until the cabin was three times its initial size and fit for human habitation. And the money for such an expensive venture ... well, let's just say the packs were short a few hundred thousand pounds.

We were still transient, though. The cabin was home-base, but never for longer than a month. There were safe houses for anyone with a Last Haven tattoo scattered all over the north, and we moved from place to place every so often. The packs were always a dozen steps behind, so we had managed to keep the cabin a secret all these years.

Fion was waiting outside, playing a rather aggressive game of catch with Cassidy. And when I say aggressive, I mean my sister had shifter strength and my sister-in-law didn't. She winced every time she caught the ball, even if it wasn't intentional. But those two girls got along far too well for my liking. That particular occasion was a great example. Fion winked at Cassidy, who happily ducked when the ball next came her way. I was unprepared, and it hit me in the face.

"Tag teaming? Really?"

Fion folded her arms, unimpressed. "It was justified. I don't see the kids, so you either forgot them or you lost them. Which was it?"

"Lost," I admitted, bending to pick up the ball. "But that was your fault. You mentioned lessons."

Her hands snapped up to catch my throw, and a curse drifted towards me on a summer breeze. "Bryn, huh? He's getting better, you know. I was shielding the link."

"And Nia pushed into my mind again yesterday. Those kids are freaking talented," I muttered.

"Of course they are," Fion laughed. "They have our genes."

Cassidy tapped her belly. "And I've got another bun in the oven, by the way. I don't think the world is going to survive all these children."

"You got knocked up again? Does Rhys know?" I spluttered. It was the first I'd heard of it. Things had been fairly quiet since Ellis had made an appearance seven years ago. Cassidy and I had shared two pregnancies before that, to give birth to my daughters and her sons. It had been hilarious watching the males trying to put up with two hormonal women and fighting their protective instincts.

"Oh, yes," she sighed. "I haven't said anything yet - thought I'd wait until he came back from the raid. It'll be another boy, of course. Rhys wants a daughter, but I'm not convinced it's going to happen."

And maybe it was for the best, because Llewellyn girls were slightly too overpowered. Take Nia, for example. She had her father's blood, and a frightening aptitude for violence. It was fortunate really, that Nia liked us, or we might have had another Brandon on our hands. That girl was ruthless ... but devoted to her family and Last Haven. I didn't envy the packs having to fight her off when she was old enough. Rhys's sons, by contrast, were miniature versions of him.

Fion pulled her into a hug. "Good for you. That'll make thirteen."

"An unlucky number," I noted, "for our enemies."

It was my turn for a hug then, and I had to be careful not to crush my sister-in-law. Humans were fragile.

"Or for us," my sister added glumly. "But you can always whelp another one next year if our luck starts to turn."

Cassidy smiled uncertainly. "Yeah, that's the spirit. I'm not a pup factory, though. This will be the last if I get my way."

"Oh, you will," I assured her. "Rhys goes all soft and mushy when you're pregnant. Just casually slip it in when he's most emotionally vulnerable."

I heard a shout from the east, followed by a series of delighted squeals. A slow smile spread across my face, because that could only mean one thing. The children were brilliant scouts, and they had no doubt stumbled upon the returning rogues.

Sure enough, Bryn tapped into the mind-link as he had been trained, to send me a message. "Dad's back. Everyone's breathing, but they're all bloodied up." He suddenly seemed to remember his manners. "Uh... I mean, the raiding team has returned. No casualties, but they will require medical attention."

"Tell my idiot brother that if he bleeds on my carpet, I will kick his scrawny ass. Uh.. I mean, copied and understood," I replied teasingly. Then, when I felt his embarrassment, "You're a rogue, Bryn. Screw protocol. For all I care, you can give me your reports through interpretive dance."

My nephew, who had just turned ten, didn't know quite what to make of that. "I think I'll stick with mind-link, if you don't mind."

I sighed aloud. "Boring, but alright. See you in five."

"Make that ten. Uncle Leo's limping," Bryn explained.

My damned mate. He had insisted on going, and as it was his turn, I couldn't exactly say no. We alternated the raiding teams to make sure that if something went wrong, there would always be a Llewellyn at the cabin. And that the children would all still have at least one parent left. It was a harsh reality, but one we had to consider. I took my parental responsibilities seriously. So seriously.

The next few minutes were a mad rush to prepare. Cassidy, who had eventually trained as a doctor, made herself useful to Last Haven by patching up our injured. She had quickly realised the value of veterinary skills and researched that as well. Now, our resent medic even had a makeshift ward in the cabin. I doubted anyone would be badly injured enough to need that today, but better safe than sorry.

Then they appeared in a long, bedraggled line. Rhys was at the very front, with the entire pack of children around him. They adored him of course; he was Rhodric's son, and had the same talent with youngsters. He had my Ellis on his shoulders, while Sam carried little Matty. I couldn't look at them and not remember that boy being carried away from Lle o Dristwch.

And I recognised Leo just behind him. There was dried blood all over his leg, and even from a distance I could tell he was getting thoroughly wound up about it. Ollie looked fine by comparison, if a little worn out.

I cupped my hands to my mouth to yell at them, "Brought the food?"Rhys grinned and shouted right back. "Is that any way to greet returning heroes, little sister?"

"Your heroism depends on whether you brought food." They were closer now, and I walked out to meet them. Leo sat down heavily and remained there, as Cassidy rushed over with the first-aid kit. I talked to my brother while she sorted out my mate and all the other wounded.

"Of course we did. What kind of monster would forget the food? There's a dozen Happy Meals and a dozen Cheeseburgers, courtesy of Zach Lloyd. Be sure to thank him."

"We will, Dad." Rhodri grinned. "We'll thank him in blood."

My brother ruffled up the boy's hair. "See? This one will be a raider when he's finished growing. Maybe even sooner."

He gave me a pointed look after that last comment, and I sighed. Rhodric had let us trespass whatever the danger, and Rhys was like him in that regard - cheerfully reckless. He and the children had been wearing me down for months, trying to persuade me to let them learn our trade. And I'll admit, I was running out of excuses.

Rhys sensed my hesitation and tried again. "Please? I'll take them to New Dawn. I don't think Jace'd kill the kids if he caught them. Me, maybe. But that's nothing new. Rhodri, Eva and Nia are all old enough now."

He so rarely asked for anything, that I found myself caving. "You have one attempt. Your hear me, Rhys Llewellyn? One. In and out. Don't even steal anything. Just piss Jace off a bit."

He grinned mischievously. "Understood. But let's wait for the heat from this latest raid to cool first."

It had taken twenty years, but I had finally taught my brother caution. Granted, he only bothered using it when he was trying to get in my good books. It was still an accomplishment, though.

We all went on that raid in the end. Even Cassidy, who stayed on the fringes with a shotgun and the toddlers, to let them hop over the boundary line. The children distinguished themselves remarkably well, and I even got to tussle with Jace. We ganged up on him, won, and got home in time for dinner. But that's another story altogether.

Ryker and Emmett were further back in the line, and they both offered me matching smiles and nods before slinking away. We tried to limit the number of people at the cabin, all the better for avoiding detection. So I would see them on the next raid, and until then they knew to stay away.

Ollie remained, though, to keep Fion company. They had never officially started going out, but when our kids had started assuming he was Nia's dad, we hadn't exactly corrected them. And it was safe to say that by now, they were as close as any other mated couple. Fion seemed happy. Ollie seemed happy. And so I was happy, too.

Our time was up then, because Cassidy had finished her duties and came over for a moment with her mate. I stepped back tactfully, leaving them to it. After they had completed mate-reunion-ritual of kissing and hugging, I saw her whisper in his ear. The amazed smile which spread across my brother's face left no doubt that she'd told him the news.

Leo wrapped his arms around me from behind. I hadn't even seen him get up, but there was now a clean bandage around the teeth marks in his legs. It didn't seem to trouble him that much, or perhaps he was just putting on a brave face for my sake.

Leo rested his chin on my shoulder. "Miss me?"

I wrinkled up my nose and lied, "Not at all."

"That's a pity," he murmured in my ear. "Because I missed you very much."

"Mam, Dad, stop being so lovey-dovey," Eva ordered us. The poor children didn't know which way to turn, with Rhys and Cassie on one side and Leo and I on the other. Having never had this problem growing up, I didn't much care.

So I grinned at her and turned around to kiss Leo. "What? Sorry - can't hear you," I announced cheerfully before joining our lips for a second time. He certainly wasn't arguing.

My daughter scampered away in disgust. The others followed her out of habit, and they all went to nag Ollie into handing over the loot. They sorted the contents of four backpacks, which included everything from cash, to mobiles, to jewellery. We would sell most of it and ransom back anything too identifiable. The last of the bags contained lunch, which the boys had no doubt picked up from McDonalds on the way back.

We didn't bother going inside to eat. It was warm out and the sun was shining. So we simply formed a circle on the grass and passed around the meals. The children, whom we had never bothered to teach manners to, chased each other the forest, scrapping over food. Their excited shouts drifted towards us on the wind.

Even as I watched, Eira and Eva mowed down one of their 'cousins' to claim his chips. Bryn calmly stole it from them when their attention was turned elsewhere and shared it with my Ellis, who was far too nice to argue for himself. It fell to the older, more mature kids to make sure the disputes didn't escalate and to win food for the little ones. Sam was especially good at that.

I wolfed down my own burger at an alarming rate, and then wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "Any trouble?"

My brother had finished first, of course, and was lying back on the grass with his arm around Cassidy. I didn't think the smile had left his face in all those minutes. "Not in the territory itself. We ran into a patrol of redshirts on the way back though. Assholes tried to nick the free toys from the Happy Meals. I had no choice but to make an example of them, for the sake of children everywhere."

"What?" I spluttered. "Really?"

Rhys rolled his eyes. "No, you gullible idiot. They were an auto-raid-response team from one of the other packs - out looking for us. The packs are getting more organised, I'll give them that."

We stewed in stony silence as we considered the implications of that. Our raids were the catalyst for reformed patrol schedules, a universal policing force and most worryingly, alliances between the packs. They seemed to have decided to unite against a common enemy. Us.

"And one of them took a chunk out of Leo," he continued obliviously. My brother wasn't one for cynicism. "Either the flockies are getting quicker, or you're getting slower."

I leant back into my mate's arms, happy to let him handle this one. He and Rhys got on well these days, although their constant stream of insults and teasing disguised it. Leo smiled benevolently. "Or you weren't watching my back."

"Or," Rhys said sharply, "you weren't watching my back and while I was defending myself, one of them slipped past me."

He shrugged. "I didn't think your back needed watching. Aren't you supposed to be the all-powerful Llewellyn with Shadowcat blood? Why do you need my help to handle flockies?"

"I don't. It's just polite. You know - good teamwork."

Leo didn't miss a beat. "Well, clearly there was a miscommunication, because I didn't think teamwork was a rogue thing."

"Clearly," Rhys agreed.

This latest pissing contest had attracted the children's attention. They had devoured their own food and now turned their appetites towards our spare burgers. I could have blinked and missed it all disappear.

"Life lesson," Fion muttered. "Never have boys. They eat like pigs - bottomless stomachs, I swear."

Rhys tried (not very hard) and failed to save his own leftovers from the scavengers. "Hey, come on. That's not fair. You're just growing, aren't you?"

The nearest orphan nodded solemnly. We'd picked him up from Silver Lake Pack a few months ago - one of Keith's discarded bastard sons.

"It's not just the boys, Mam," Nia called out. "I eat two rabbits at a time now."

"Poor animals," I teased. Then, as everyone appeared to be finished with their meals, I announced, "It's time to go and see Grandpa."

That was met by groans of complaint from the children. "Do we have to?" Eva demanded. "I hate Grandpa."

"No, not that Grandpa," I laughed, remembering the time when Leo's parents, distraught and despairing, had dropped in to visit. They had evidently not taken well to rogue life and now sought their son's protection. The children, bless their souls, had chased them off personally. The adults had stood around and laughed, Leo included. "I mean my Dad."

"Rhodric!" Rhodri shouted happily. "I'm named after Rhodric. They say he once defeated a hundred hunters by himself."

"And although that's no doubt what the arrogant bastard would have wanted you to believe, it's not strictly true," Rhys muttered. He crouched down and flicked his son's nose. "He wasn't by himself, and you make sure to remember that. They all got blown up, so it wasn't much to crow about, either."

But the children weren't interested in the truth behind their bedtime stories. I knew for a fact that rogues liked to exaggerate when it came to my father. He was a martyr and a folk hero, although not even a dozen years had passed. The famous rogue leader, who had defied the packs for so long. It made a good story.

So my daughters ignored Rhys and continued to gush happily. "I'm named after Rhodric's sister," Eira boasted. "She owned Mam's armour first."

"I'm named after Mam's mam," Eva continued. And it was true. Although I had never met my birth mother, Leo and I had both liked the name and thought she deserved some credit for giving me life.

"I'm-" Bryn stopped suddenly, and frowned. "Who was Bryn again?"

"The first Bryn Llewellyn was the founder of your line," Fion said immediately. She could still reel off history like a textbook. "He married the Alpha King's daughter to solidify the peace on Anglesey."

Bryn beamed. "Yes - him!"

Ellis tugged my sleeve, and I turned to him inquiringly. My son, ever the shy one, waited until his siblings' attention was caught elsewhere to whisper, "Why aren't I named after anyone famous?"

"Because I got fed up of thinking about dead people," I explained matter-of-factly. "Make yourself famous, El."

And one day, he would be. They all would be. The next generation of Last Haven, who would go on to terrify the northern packs. And I'd be damned if I wasn't proud of them.

The journey to visit Rhodric was a short one. It had taken a year and a difficult conversation with Maggie, but we had eventually managed to pinpoint the location of Jessie's grave. It was in a quiet, overgrown valley. In the centre was a circle of standing stones, the remnants of some forgotten age. A waterfall poured down beside it. All in all, it was a beautiful place, but I didn't quite understand the significance. No doubt it had been important to them.

So we had scattered Rhodric's ashes next to his mate's headstone, and personally carved words below the existing ones.

Here lies Jessie Thompson,

Beloved mate, mother, daughter and friend,

Rest in chaos.

And here lies Rhodric Llewellyn,

King of the Rogues.

He was stubborn, impulsive, reckless,

And the best father to walk the earth.

We hadn't had a clue what to put, but this particular engraving always made me smile, which was good, because then I was less likely to cry. There had been a conversation years before, when Rhys had asked his father what he wanted on his tombstone.

Rhodric had, rather unhelpfully, replied, I want a pyramid, thank you very much. A massive one with guardian crocodiles and hidden treasure - the whole works.

I knew I wanted to be buried here too, when my time came.

Even as I realised that, I felt a prickling on the back of my neck. Someone was watching us, and when I couldn't catch a scent, I knew exactly who. I picked out a pair of golden, half-crazed eyes in the shadows. Old Jeff kept his distance, mainly because we didn't trust him around the kids. My second eldest was named after the girl he had once murdered. So their great-grandfather only watched and grieved with us from afar.

The children stared with solemn silence. They understood our grief, even if they couldn't share it. We stayed a good hour or so, picking wildflowers from the woods. One day I would get around to planting roses around the standing stones themselves, but until then Rhodric and Jessie would just have to make do with a pile of wilting forget-me-nots.

"What would grandpa tell you?" Rhys asked quietly just before we left.

"Be good," Bryn and Eira piped up together.

"And if we can't be good," Rhodri continued.

Eva met my eyes and smiled. "Don't get caught."

Then we made the trip to a whirlpool downstream, where the children loved to swim. They played chicken, trying to pull each other into the water, while I sat on the banks with my family. As we had sat a thousand times before, Rhys was on my left and Leo on my right, with Fion, Cassidy and Ollie further down the line. We watched the children splash and play with no small amount of pride and satisfaction.

If this wasn't winning, then I had no idea what was. We were a family, and we were happy.

Brandon had tried to ruin that. Malcolm had tried, the ferals had tried, and the packs had certainly tried. And in some ways, they succeeded. I had lost a father, my birth parents, countless friends, and parts of myself along the way. We could never quite win, but I rarely minded.

Yet not so far away, my armour sat in its duffel bag, just waiting for the next raid. Several hundred rogues, scattered around the country, waited for the call to fight again. And the tattoo on my collarbone was itching, as it always did when we were at peace.

I had not forgotten Last Haven. I could never be just a mother to my children. One day they would have to follow in my footsteps.

We may have been the villains of this story, but maybe that wasn't so bad after all.

I had never much enjoyed being good anyway.