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"She having trouble finding it?"

I stopped.

Magnus groaned. "Vidar."

"Or are you?"

I went for him. Magnus got between us before I could get my hands around Vidar's throat, one arm slamming across my chest while Vidar danced backward, laughing.

"Get the fuck out of my way."

"No."

"I'm not gonna kill him."

Magnus looked at the discarded bag in the corner.

"The bag didn't deserve it."

"And I do?" Vidar called from behind him.

I went back to the bag. They were my older brothers. I loved the fuckers. I'd also buried men in places where no one would ever find them. There was still time to make myself an only child.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Actually, yes." Magnus's tone changed enough that I turned around. "There's a fight tonight at Lupetto's."

Our fathers had been allies, technically. Fenrir Blackwood and Dante Lupetto had done business when it benefited both packs, stayed out of each other's territory when it didn't, and spent decades watching each other closely enough to make sure neither got any ideas.

Magnus had been working more closely with Valentino since taking over. I'd started showing up at the Lupetto gym often enough that nobody reached for a weapon when a Blackwood walked through the door anymore. I liked their fighters. They liked hitting me. I liked hitting them back. Turned out beating the shit out of each other was a pretty effective form of diplomacy.

Tonight wasn't a meeting. There wouldn't be contracts on the table or territory to divide. We'd show up, drink Valentino's liquor, bet on his fighters, talk shit, and let both packs see their young Alphas together without anybody negotiating anything. Maybe that was how to turn a fragile alliance on paper into a real one.

"We haven't gone out together in months."

"Business is good," said Vidar. "Nobody's threatening war this week."

"That we know of," I said.

"All three of us are mated," said Magnus.

That was still strange. Vidar. Magnus. Me. All three Blackwood brothers had wives. A year ago, I would've laughed in the face of anyone stupid enough to predict that. Now our wives were upstairs together doing whatever women did when they took over a kitchen.

"Sounds like a reason to stay home," I said.

Magnus tossed a towel at me. I caught it before it hit my face.

"Come out tonight," he said. "No business. No pack shit unless absolutely necessary. We watch the fight. Have a few drinks."

Vidar nodded. "A night out."

I wiped the sweat from my face. A Lupetto fight sounded good. Better than spending another evening pretending I didn't want to drag my wife upstairs every time I smelled her.

"Fine."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ROSALIND