“What—” I started. My heart seized as the Asgard boys began peeling off their clothes, stopping at the sturdy shorts they wore under their pants. I froze, more immobilized by the act of undressing than their state of undress, but I couldn’t look away. Aleksei’s thin form was vivid with tattoos: a snake, its jade color dull, wrapped itself around his upper arm, and a gray wolf stalked the sharp ridge of his spine toward his neck. Its lean charcoal body was warped and bizarrely elongated, as if its wearer had grown.

I stiffened at the sight of the wolf. But I shook myself and looked away.

Torden, Hermódr, and Bragi wore ink, as well—a mark like a slanting letter F over each of their hearts. I gasped as they streaked toward the water and jumped, and then again as they burst above the surface, pushing water off their faces and shaking droplets from their blond and black and red hair.

“Anya, that water’s got to be freezing,” I panted, palms braced on my knees. A stiff wind tore across the cliff top; a sultry Potomac summer day this was not.

Anya tugged off her dress, leaving only her wool tights and shirt. “Then you’d better hope that ride was enough of a warm-up.” She winked and hurtled toward the lake, flinging herself in after her brothers.

I seized Skop with shaking hands. “They’re insane.”

“I know,” he laughed raggedly, yanking off his sweater and pants. “Isn’t it great?” As he jumped, I backed away from the bank, stomach seething.

Torden swam over, grinning and blinking water from his eyes, waving me in. “Come on!” Goose bumps formed over his thick-muscled chest and arms.

I shook my head fast, worrying the cuff of my shirtdress. “I can’t swim.”

Hermódr gaped. Bragi and Aleksei groaned, beckoning me anyway.

“Don’t think about it. Don’t be afraid. Just do it. I’ll catch you.” Torden held both his arms out.

I shook my head again, taking another cautious step back. “I’ll just wait here.”

“No!” Anya called, looking disappointed.

Torden swam a little closer to the water’s edge. “Come on, Selah.” His smile was sincere, lit with no trace of mockery. “I promise, I’ll catch you and I won’t let go. Jump. Trust me.”

Could I?

Was it foolish to trust so soon, having learned just how easily trust could be broken?

Or would it be worse, letting Bear break my heart and my faith in people?

Panting, shaking, grateful above all that Anya had forced me to wear her stupid wool tights, I turned around. I couldn’t fiddle with the buttons of my dress as they watched. At least one catcall—Fredrik, I thought—joined the cheers echoing off the rocks, but the offending noise was silenced by what was unmistakably a slap.