Song and banner for the final chapter just in case you're not miserable already ;)

Dedicated to LittleLoneWriterGirl <3 :)

With a stone wall between me and the Alphas, I felt an awful lot better about the situation.

So I looked for a space in the crowd and moved there. If I had thought about it, I might have realised I had once stood in the same spot beside Rhodric to face down Brandon. But that had been a long time ago. I was going to do far more than talk now.

"The packs have offered us a choice." I raised my voice so the whole courtyard could hear. So the whole damn world could hear. "Surrender or die. They're both shit options, but they're the only ones we have. That's what the Alphas want you to think."

Wide eyes gazed up at me. Children, mostly. The adults listened in brooding silence, their hollow expressions off-putting. It didn't matter though. Not with Rhys on one side, Leo on the other and Fion at my back. Not with the support of an oversized housecat who could have killed us all like mice.

"I say, screw the packs. Screw the Alphas. I don't plan to bow to anyone. Surrender, or die, or do what we do best — find our own path. There's still a way out of this castle. It'll be dangerous, sure, but I reckon freedom is worth the risk."

Then I dropped my voice, frustrating the hundreds of keen eavesdroppers outside my walls. Let them think we were going to fight our way out. "I don't suppose any of you remember our tunnel?"

The resounding roar of approval was louder than I could ever have hoped for. And it played into my plans, because the packlings outside scrambled a defence. I could hear the Alphas snapping orders, scaring their fighters into line. To the outside ear, it sounded very much like we were about to attack.

But in reality, the rogues started filing towards the room where the trapdoor was hidden. I had only been through the tunnel that once, to attack Brandon, but it was narrow. We would need time for so many people to crawl through — time which could only be bought one way.

So I went against the flow of people to the small room where we kept the weapons. There were a dozen rifles and several of my homemade bombs. The smoke bombs would confuse the packlings, and the explosive ones ... let's just say I would be aiming for Keith.

Rhys went with the others by unspoken consent, taking Jeff with him. They would go first. If there were packlings at the other end, which seemed unlikely, they could clear an escape route. Fion was directing the stream of people, while Cassidy held the baby. Their newfound cooperation was admirable. Those two girls might both have wanted the same boy, but they weren't petty enough to squabble over it.

Kevin made room on the battlement, and Leo clambered up beside me. From there, we could get a panoramic view of the army that had come to kill us. Most had shifted, but a good hundred or so remained human to climb the walls. Jace was one of the few people I recognised, standing at the head of a sea of New Dawn wolves.

Shadowless were in the vanguard, unfortunately. Not so long ago, they had been rogues themselves, and their fighters were renowned. I had always thought their Alpha, Zach, was one of the most reasonable of the pack crowd ... because he was most like a rogue. But when it came down to it, he would fight me as easily as befriend me — it simply didn't matter to him, or his pack. That carelessness and indifference was why I had liked him in the first place, so I had no right to complain when it backfired.

The first team of climbers rushed forwards. Homemade grappling hooks crashed against stone, grating and screeching until they found a lodging. I shouted at the crowd below, and a dozen fighters broke off to repel the climbers. But there were too many of them, in too many different places. And there were too many wolves massing at the gates. How long before they found a way to open them?

Leo let out a low whistle. "We're so screwed."

I shook my head. "No. We're the ones doing the screwing today."

"Is that an offer?"

"Pervert." I slapped his chest, then added far more quietly, "Maybe later."

We were overdue some alone time. My wolf liked that idea very, very much. And I was going to be in heat soon. Since Leo had marked me all those months ago, I had been through a cycle already. It had arrived in spring, shortly after that special time of the month, when she-wolves were at their most fertile. And it was hell.

Almost as bad as that special time itself, actually. I still remembered when the initial arrival of my period when I was an ignorant thirteen-year-old with no mother to explain such things. Terrified and confused, I had gone to Rhys, who panicked and taken me to Rhodric, who hadn't been extremely helpful. Fion eventually solved things by dragging me to Maggie for a proper explanation. The memory was a perfect example of how my dysfunctional family could actually function. The Llewellyn boys raised one hell of a fuss, while the girls quietly got things done.

"Skye Llewellyn, you lying piece of shit!" a voice roared from outside. I didn't often witness Jace Lloyd lose his cool, but it was always fantastic entertainment.

I ducked below the parapet and held a lighter to the fuse of one of my missiles, waiting until it caught to respond. "That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

The smoke bomb flew a good forty feet into the ranks of packlings. Seconds later, thick, grey smoke obscured the air. Cold packs and sugar could do miracles when combined with heat. Several more followed before I let rip with the explosive ones. That successfully deterred any immediate attempts to scale the walls. No one wanted to be blown up. I can't say I blamed them.

"You need to get out of here," Kyle told me bluntly. He had always been taller than me, so I found it strange to look down on him now. The older twin wouldn't stand again, let alone walk. A bullet in the spine would do that for a person, even a person with supernatural healing abilities.

Leo took over the bombs for a minute, while Kevin aimed pot-shots at any wolf large enough to be an Alpha. Between them, they were holding back the tide. And my other defenders had taken to throwing rocks, even breaking the parapets apart to find ammunition.

I shook my head. "Not bloody likely. Didn't you know the captain is always the last to leave a sinking ship?"

"I don't see a captain and a ship. I see a rogue and castle. That rule doesn't apply here. Leave with the others. We can hold them off. Give you time to get away," he insisted.

"I'm not leaving you to die, smartass. All we have to do is buy some time for the others to escape down the tunnel."

Kyle gestured to his wheelchair with a sad sort of smile. "And how would I get out, Skye? Somehow, I don't think your tunnel has disabled access."

It didn't, and damn me for not realising sooner. We might be able to drag him through, but it would take time we didn't have, especially if no one was here to hold the packlings off. And as I came to that awful conclusion, I knew that one way or another, Kyle would be left behind.

Someone bumped their shoulder against mine. I turned to see Tally, holding an armful of spray-paints. The walls had been ... redecorated ... with rogue symbols which spelt the equivalent of flipping someone off. I had to admit, the whole effect was perfect. When the packs breached the walls, they would find an eerily empty castle covered with strange markings.

"I'm staying with my mate," Tally informed me. She wasn't asking permission — something I had taught her personally. She had made her decision, and it wasn't up to me to dispute that.

Kevin met my stare with a sheepish smile. "He's my twin. I'm staying too."

I looked between the three of them, full of frustration. "Then so am I."

Leo shook his head ever so slightly, his eyes wide. But I could see resolution there. If I chose to stay, he would as well. So I was throwing away his life as well as my own.

"Don't make me call your brother back here," Kyle threatened. "We will drag your skinny arse out of this castle if we have to."

"Just a polite request — could you stop talking about my mate's arse, please?" Leo asked.

"Only when my mate shuts up about Rhys's," he retorted.

Tally shrugged. "What? A girl can dream. It's like a celebrity crush — he doesn't even count."

"I think we're getting off track," I interrupted, trying not to cringe.

"Yes, we are." Kyle's jaw was set. I had never seen him this serious. "You're leaving now. I mean it, Skye. We need you free to cause all kinds of mischief. Don't throw your life away."

Against all my pride and instincts, their words were starting to make sense. And I hated myself for it, but some part of me was willing to be convinced. I didn't really want to die here. It would kill Rhys and Fion so soon after Rhodric. And Leo ... well, it might actually kill him.

So when Tally gave me a not-so-gentle shove in the direction of the tunnel entrance, I only stopped long enough to say, "Let them take you alive, you hear? No one's dying today."

"Yes, ma'am," she promised. "I was raised in Shadowless, and I still have friends there. Zach will take all three of us in if I pull a few strings with his mate. So don't you worry about us."

I couldn't give the flockies a dramatic goodbye without giving the game away, so I settled with leaning over the battlements and giving the army below an exclusive view of my middle finger.

Through all the smoke and confusion, I picked out Jace. He had shifted into his wolf for the first time since I had met him. He towered easily above the wolves around him, and he had a distinctive colouring — a timbre pattern of fur in dark and light shades.

It was his eyes which really struck me, though. Bluey-black ... and disappointed. Jace thought I was going to attack and doom every rogue in the castle, just to prove a point. And he had expected better. I didn't know whether to be flattered or indignant.

I jumped down off the battlements after hugging Tally and the twins in turn. With Leo beside me, I went to join the ever-dwindling crowd outside the tunnel entrance. We only had to wait a minute before our turn came.

I took one last lingering look around the courtyard, and the three people silhouetted on the battlements. They offered me a half-mocking salute. The dozen defenders were staying too. I never did find out if they survived. My gaze settled on the archways, the eaves, the corner where I slept. The patch of earth where I had killed Brandon, the tower where Leo had first kissed me and the room in which I had been named Luna of Rogues.

Then I jumped down into the tunnel and crawled along the earthen passageway to freedom. Explosions rocked through the ground around us, frequently enough that I knew the defenders were doing their job. Leo closed the trapdoor behind us to delay the packs. It seemed unlikely they would even find it, hidden under sacking in a disused room.

The tunnel was dark and narrow. I could crawl, but only just, and anyone taller had to wriggle through like an eel. I didn't even want to consider how Jeff had managed it in his Shadowcat form. It was a miracle we had got everyone else through so quickly.

"This is such a rogue thing to do," my mate mused. "It's like our textbook response to any dangerous situation. Swear at anything and everything, piss off the world, then peace out with a backdrop of explosions."

I laughed. "You're only just picking up on this? Six months with us and you've never noticed the pattern?"

"I just—" We reached the end, and there was a small hollow with enough room to face him, and enough light to see a tempting smile. "I just really love rogues sometimes."

"Oh, really?" I took a step closer to him. "Any rogue in particular?"

Leo nodded slowly. "There's this one girl. She's braver than anyone I've ever met. Beautiful, even if she doesn't think so. And smart too — scarily smart sometimes."

"Good answer." I stood on my tiptoes to kiss that damned smile off his lips. He pulled me into his warm body as our mouths moved in sync. For a moment I could just block out the world and focus on the ecstasy which flowed through my veins. Mates. If they were poison, the pleasure was worth every second of pain.

That tunnel was our own personal heaven, until the second trapdoor swung open above our heads, and the passageway echoed with the sound of wolf-whistling and cheers. Good to know some things never change.

Just as I drew back and looked up at the crowd gathered above us, Rhys pushed his way to the front and groaned. "Really, Leo? You need to make out with her in the middle of a siege?"

Leo gave me a leg up and Rhys hauled me up from above, and I found myself lying on the forest floor. My brother wasn't in so much of a hurry to lift my mate out, though.

"Why's it my fault? It takes two to tango..."

Rhys scowled. "Well, you corrupted my innocent little sister. She never did this before you came into the picture."

"That's because I didn't have anyone to do it with," I laughed, offering Leo a hand.

Rhys finally crouched down to help. "Just ... leave room for the Goddess until we get somewhere safe."

Old Jeff wasn't with the others anymore. According to my brother, he had slipped away into the trees without any sort of explanation. He was probably going back to his hut in the forest to get drunk and mourn his son properly. I could only hope the packlings didn't find him ... for their sake.

We ran, and walked and limped through the forest. Injured wolves were carried by friends and family. The time to get away was being bought with my friends' lives. I would not waste a second of it. The Moon Goddess must have been smiling down on us, because it started raining. First a few drops, then an impressive torrent. The water washed away our scents, tracks, and any evidence we might have ever existed.

Rhys made a sortie to Jace's stolen car with his scent turned off. My heart was racing with fear for the long minutes until he returned, the duffel bags swung over his shoulder. The first thing I did was take out the tape recorders we had used to trick the hunters and throw one on top of a rocky outcrop. With any luck, it would take the packlings a long time to scale it and realise their mistake.

The recorders were scattered far and wide — in caves and brooks and gullies. But it wasn't enough, and it would never be enough, because when four hundred packlings started chasing us, we wouldn't be able to run fast or far enough.

Jace had been right, I realised. "We can't win this war. The packs will always outnumber us ten to one. Losing is not an option either, not if we want to stay free."

"So if we can't win and we can't lose, what can we do?" Rhys asked as he untangled himself from a particularly vicious bramble. The forest was dense here — the trees grew dangerously close together and the wildlife had taken over.

"Keep fighting. Let the cycle go on and on. The packs will hate us, and we'll hate them back, until the world has forgotten how it all started."

"Skye?" someone spoke up. I turned to identify an old man. Tom. He was a rogue elder, and one of my late father's closest friends.

My family waited with me until he was walking alongside us. "Yeah?"

"Where's Rhodric?" Tom asked cautiously. His tone told me he already had a few guesses. "Would it be too much to hope he's fulfilling some diabolical plan to murder the packs?"

Rhys and I exchanged a glance, and he swapped places with me to take over the conversation. I was not in the mood to discuss that right now. "It was Malcolm," Rhys said quietly. "A bullet. There was nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could do."

Tom winced. He bowed his head, probably to hide the tears welling in his eyes. "Dammit. Dammit. Did you kill the bastard?"

"Dad did it just before..." Rhys trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. It wasn't necessary, though.

"It's a bleeding shame," the old man sighed. "But he will be remembered. Every werewolf in the north has heard of Rhodric Llewellyn. A hundred years from now, when we're all dead and cold, they'll sit around campfires and tell stories about him — about all of you. How many people have that luxury? You're lucky in that regard, kids. Most of us just fade from memory as if we were never here."

"He died, Tom," I snapped. "That's the cost of our exciting lifestyle."

"He died defending his family against the man who killed his mate. I knew Rhodric for nigh on twenty-five years, and that's the way he would have wanted to go. We all die, lass. The trick is making it mean something."

Tom sighed again, muttered something under his breath, and then dropped back before I had the chance to reply. He had a point. I just wasn't in the mood to acknowledge it.

Only then did I notice we were taking the same path as we had on the-night-things-went-to-shit. But that time it had been Brandon responsible, not the packs. I almost missed him. There had only been one of him, not seven. And he had been predictably evil, not spontaneously. Things had been simple. We had hated him, and he had hated us. But the packs ... they were complicated.

Even in the dark, even though months had passed and the undergrowth had reclaimed it, I could still recognise the tree which had fallen on my leg. And I still hated that lump of wood with all my strength.

Rhys crouched down to examine a dark smear along the bark. My blood, six months cold and dry. He was smart enough to refrain from commenting.

On we went, through valleys and endless woods for at least an hour. After a particularly steep slope, I called a halt to let the stragglers catch their breath. A lot of the children were finding the pace difficult, with their shorter legs and smaller lungs. Rhys had resorted to carrying Sammy again, and the boy had fallen asleep in his arms. He had Nia as well, to give Fion a break. I resisted the urge to aww at them.

From my vantage point on the hill, I could make out the grey blur of the castle. A single, angry howl echoed through the forest. More voices joined the harmony until it sounded like all four hundred packlings were voicing their frustration. The castle had fallen. I could imagine the seven Alphas standing in the courtyard, wondering how on earth I had managed to do a disappearing act with several hundred people, and what those odd symbols could possibly mean.

"Lle o Dristwch," I laughed suddenly. "How stupid could we get?"

"Why? What does that mean?" Leo asked. Of our family, he was the only one who didn't speak much Welsh. Growing up in a pack would do that for you.

"It's quite literal. Place of Sorrow," Fion translated.

He frowned. "What kind of idiot makes a camp in a Place of Sorrow?"

"Rhodric, probably. He must have thought it was funny."

I didn't see the castle burn, which was good, because I wasn't sure I would able to stand watching my home go up in smoke, but we found out soon after that the packs had destroyed Lle o Dristwch very thoroughly. Walls were pulled down, our belongings were torched, and the tunnel was collapsed, all in the name of making sure it could never be a rogue base again. As if we would be stupid enough to go back there.

In the end, to solve the problem of pursuers, I split the group into raiders and civilians. The strongest survivors shifted to run one way. The packs would pick up their trail and follow them all the way to the Silverstones. Once in the mountains, the fighters would split off in every direction and make their way to about a dozen different safe places.

Meanwhile, the elderly and children would take the direct route to the nearest village, walking in a stream to hide their scents. Rhys, Fion and a dozen volunteers would stay to protect them against any packlings who came calling. Once among humans, they would be safe. The packs didn't hate us enough to expose our entire species ... or so I hoped.

And me? I had the best job of all — leading the fighters in their mad dash to draw pursuers. I shifted into my midnight black wolf and had Leo buckle on my armour. My mate and I ran at the head of a hundred wolves for the rest of the night and most of the next day. The flockies never even got close.

At nightfall, exhausted mentally and physically, we reached our destination. It was just the two of us by then. The other fighters were scattered all over the mountains.

We shifted and got dressed a short distance away, and then we walked up the valley into a particularly thick tangle of forest. Disguised by ivy and undergrowth, a dilapidated hunting cabin stood nestled into the trees.

"What is this place?" Leo breathed.

I stared at the rundown cabin with a glimmer of a smile. "Home."

I kicked back the snow to see the sooty smear of dirt where a bush had once stood. The long-cold coals from a hundred midnight fires still rested in the centre of our log seats. A rope swing was slung over a nearby branch.

Memories flashed through my mind. It was like reverse déjà vu. It was the same location, but very different people had stood here all those months ago. The last night before Brandon came into my life had been spent in this clearing. The last night before everything had changed.

For the next hour, the two of us worked continuously, despite our exhaustion. We cleared the undergrowth around the house. We swept out the inside and even went as far as babyproofing it. And finally, we lit the old stove.

Inside the cabin was our old stash of alcohol. Unwashed plates from our meal of venison and three empty cups with the dregs of herb water hangover cure still sat on the table. And I was willing to bet that if I climbed the ladder to the bunks, our spare clothes would still be hidden there.

The cabin felt like home to me. A home long-forgotten and very neglected, but as close to a permanent residence as I had ever had. Even the castle had always felt temporary, like it was only a matter of time before the spring came and we would leave again. A slight consequence of the rogue lifestyle was never feeling like you belonged. So for a while, this had been my home. The castle after that.

I picked up a piece of charcoal from the fire pit and found a smooth part of the house to write The New Haven. It wasn't funny. Not even remotely funny. But as long as the packs thought I could joke about this whole situation, they would be afraid of us. No one lost any sleep over a broken enemy, but a defiant one...

Rhys, Fion and Cassidy arrived shortly before the sun dipped below the horizon with the two kids in tow and the baby in her mother's arms. To celebrate their survival, our two lovebirds decided to swap some saliva in the rain, and I decided to have some fun.

"Oh, no you don't," I said, dragging Rhys away by the collar. Then, sternly to Cassidy, "You think you can date my little brother?"

"Skye, what are you—?" Rhys began indignantly.

I dropped my voice lower into an imitation of his. "Lay a hand on him, and it'll be the last time you have hands, Cassidy Forster."

She showed me those hands now and backed away, smiling uncertainly. Rhys groaned when he recognised his own words from months ago. "Really?"

He tried to take a step towards her, but I got in the way. "You've corrupted my innocent kid-brother. Now, should I start punching? I seem to remember that being the textbook response."

Leo folded his arms and watched smugly from a safe distance as Rhys got his comeuppance.

"Alright, I think you've made your point. But it's different with you and Leo."

"Why? Because I'm a girl?" I raised an eyebrow in warning.

"No..." He frowned, and for a moment I thought he was trapped. With Fion and me around, he could imply sexism at his peril. "It's because Leo is a boy."

"So you don't trust your own gender?"

Rhys grinned. "Not at all."

"Then maybe I should be worried about letting you near my friend Cassie," I said.

"Fine. You win, Skye," Rhys gave up. "You win."

"And are you ever going to be overprotective again?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. Never."

Lies. But I beamed. "Good."

With that out of the way, we all went inside to get warm. Rhys had murdered a few bunny rabbits along the way, so we would at least have something to eat that night. While the meat roasted on the stove, we all caught up.

My sister told me she had managed to get in touch with Syd Jacobs via mind-link. He had still been in New Dawn at the time, and after hearing of the slaughter at Lle o Dristwch, proceeded to smash up Jace's home in his absence. It was as close to karma as we were going to get.

Syd had news of Leo's parents as well. They hadn't been home when he came calling, because Jace had exiled them for disobeying a direct order. By calling the police, they had delayed our journey to find Malcolm, and therefore disrupted Jace's attack plans. That made them rogues now, which I found amusingly ironic. The stuck-up pack wolves had become their own worst nightmare.

That proved to be the end of the gossip. We fell into a surly silence as everyone, exhausted and drained, simply ran out of the will to make conversation.

"Come on. Help me with the firewood," I told my brother. He looked like he could use something to do, rather than brood on the events of the last few days.

He followed me outside. The rain had finally stopped, and the sky was showing slivers of blue amongst the heavy clouds. Although it still stank of rain, it was turning out to be a nice day after all. The burnt-out shell of a bush kept drawing my attention.

"We used to play chicken by putting our hands into the fire," I remembered, staring at the charcoal from that last time we had been here.

Rhys grinned at the memory. "There was one time when you got so drunk you were singing in Spanish."

"The weird thing is, I don't even know Spanish," I laughed.

There was a long pause. Rhys snapped a twig off a bush and span it in his fingers. Our eyes met. Try as we might, we couldn't pretend things were the same as they had been.

Rhys crushed the twig in his palm. "You've changed, Skye. You're not that carefree kid anymore."

"I've had to," I said bitterly. "And I'm not the only one."

That thought was just too damn depressing for us apparently, because Rhys ended the moment with a hollow laugh. "You realise we're the villains now. The victors write the history books, and I don't think we won."

"That's how life works, little brother. You die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

He snorted. "Or maybe we've always been the evil rogues."

"Who said rogues have to be evil anyway?" I asked.

"Society, Skye. Society."

"Well I'd hate to prove society wrong. Is it possible to be evil in a good way?"

Rhys grinned at me. "You certainly seem to pull it off. So when so we start?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Start what?"

"Setting the world on fire. You told the Alphas we'd do it. I don't enjoy making empty threats."

That did sound very appealing. The civilised world hated me — delinquent, murderer and rogue. And there was a pyromaniac hiding in every teenager.

"We've already begun."

Rhys kept grinning, especially when we were called inside for dinner. Cassidy appeared with several plates of food and tucked herself under his arm. We sat around to eat together — all seven of us, like a little family. Sammy was chuffed enough with Baby Nia that I knew we'd found her a big brother. The first of many orphans whom we would adopt over the years. Fion looked tired, but happy under the circumstances. Leo and I didn't leave each other's sides all evening, and when the others were asleep, with nowhere else to go, we found a quiet corner of the forest to have to ourselves.

Last Haven Pack may have been shattered into a hundred pieces, but pieces could be fitted together again. The cost of our escape had been Ollie, Maggie, Tally, the twins, and the countless other prisoners. But the packs would pay that back tenfold in time.

We never went as far as declaring open war, instead choosing to play to our strengths and raid the living hell out of them. I lost the occasional friend to pack justice, but we rarely even had to fight our way out. It was hard to catch ghosts who could appear as if from nowhere and melt back into the forest. If the Alphas were so determined to make us the villains, we would damn well be the villains.

This story ends right where it began. The packs would always hate me. Hate all of us.

All we could do was hate them back and survive just to spite them. And that was exactly what I intended to do.

The End.

Phew. PHEW. *wipes brow* PHEW.

That. Took. A. Year.

Nearly 240k words, 77 chapters and (arguably) 3 books.

Huh. I'm going to miss my babies. Rhys especially (that one's mine, hands off).

But it's okay, because they'll be making appearances in pretty much every other book I write, ever. As the villains though, because most of the other books will be about the packs. Except the Midnight Watch, where the squad will guest-star in a few weeks' time. Oh, and eventually, there will be a spin off/sequel about Skye's daughter. I'm working on that now, along with a prequel about the previous generation.

So I guess there's just one question left. Do you guys want an epilogue? I want an epilogue. Like, ten years later sort of thing, when they've all got kids. There's not much point writing it if you're not interested in reading it though.

Author's note coming soon.