Moira's POV

The steam curls around us in the massive shower, hot water cascading over my skin like a thousand tiny fingers, easing the last traces of forest grit from my body. Lucas presses in behind me, his hands gentle on my hips, while Logan stands in front, lathering soap across my shoulders with careful strokes.

"You're tense," Logan murmurs, his thumbs working knots from my neck. "We can stop if—"

I turn into him, sliding my hands up his ...