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My entire back stiffened at the absolute truth in Gunnar's words, and I missed a step. Though I couldn't see it clearly, I'm sure Astrid and Ivar glared down at their brother.

"That logic is what got your wife covered in dirt and grime," Astrid called back down, her voice dripping with sarcastic venom.

Gunnar let out a low, frustrated grunt, but he didn't offer a counterargument.

Moments later, steam filled the spacious ensuite of our bedroom, carrying away the stinging ache from my skin and the scent of crushed pine and earth. Under the hot spray of the shower, I scrubbed my body raw, washing away the dirt of the forest and the lingering hint of Diego's blood.

A fleeting memory flashed through my mind: the pleasure he had given me in the dark corners of my mother's estate. It had been mindless, familiar comfort. But I had never seen Diego's face. He had been a shadow, a tool, just a mouth I'd grind on for release.

Through my wolf's eyes in the woods, I had seen Gunnar's face. The dangerous angles of his jaw with the unexpected dimples. The crooked bridge of his nose, where it had clearly been broken and reset a few times. Those cruel, thick lips that I now knew were surprisingly soft when he held back. Those piercing eyes that saw far more than I was ever willing to share. The memory of his weight on top of me. The crushing power of his body pinning mine into the earth, making me feel caged, yet inexplicably safe.

I shut off the shower, stepping out into the steam. I toweled off quickly and slipped into a silk robe, refusing to put on any of the clothes Astrid had brought up. My skin was too sensitive; my mind too restless.

On the other side of the bathroom door, the muffled sounds of bickering reached my ears. Ivar's adolescent voice was rising in defensive frustration, while Astrid shot back with older-sister sarcasm.

I gathered my damp hair, twisting it into a loose bun at the nape of my neck. Taking a slow, steadying breath, I smoothed down my robe and stepped out into the bedroom.

"Put that down before you break it," Astrid snapped. "You're like a bull in a china shop."

"Hey, sis. You feel better after your shower?"

It took me a few seconds before I realized Ivar was speaking to me. I'd known I'd have brothers-in-law as a result of my marriage. But I'd always thought of them as older. Ivar was younger than me. He was an eager thing. Like a puppy wanting attention, with a chest puffed out to protect.

"Much better, thank you." I kept my tone light and unbothered as I glided toward the bed.

This time neither sibling moved to offer me guidance. Looks like they got the message that I was capable. I wasn't sure if that was to my advantage or not?

"So, how's married life going?" Ivar sat on the bed beside me. He scooted toward the headboard, as if he was getting comfortable.

Astrid smacked at his legs, which Ivar then hung over the side of the bed, but didn't get up. "Excuse this mutt. He doesn't have much home training."

I liked Ivar. I liked that he had no filter. It made it easier for me to understand him. People hid behind subtext, careful pauses, and all the things they deliberately left unsaid, all of which I sometimes had difficulty with. I could hear the hesitation in a voice or the sudden change in a heartbeat, but that didn't always tell me what someone was hiding.

Ivar didn't hide anything.

"I'm happy to report that married life is going well. Your brother is very well-endowed, and he nearly didn't get it in, but we did consummate our union."

There was complete silence from my young in-laws. Was that TMI? Had I gone too far?

Astrid groaned and yanked a pillow from behind me. Her groan became muffled, as if she'd put the pillow over her head. Then, as if she realized what that pillow might have been involved in, she chucked it away. Meanwhile, Ivar laughed and laughed.

"Looks like our parents made another great match," he said when he came up for air.

I turned in his direction. "You don't mind having your life arranged by your parents?"

"Not my life, just my marriage. Ma and Dad know me best. They have a responsibility to the pack. I trust them to make the best decision for me and the pack."

"Easy for you to say," said Astrid. "You don't have a wedding date circled on the calendar."

"I want a wedding date. That's why I'm not even bothering to start dating. What's the point?"

"You're not going to sow your wild oats?" I asked.

"I don't see the point when it's not going to be as good as when I knot my wife."

"Ew, brat." Astrid's voice was preceded by the soft rush of displaced air, then followed by the muffled thump of a pillow connecting with what sounded like Ivar's face. His silhouette didn't so much as flinch.

What was with these two? Astrid wasn't using her guards to get head and Ivar wasn't out sniffing up girls' skirts either.