Torden looked away. “My father means well.”

“Were Bragi and Anya really in love?” I suddenly asked.

Torden’s mouth fell open.

“Aleksei told me, but I’d already—”

“Don’t talk about that.” There was no anger in his tone, only desperation. “That is a secret.”

“Is it because they were as good as brother and sister?” I asked, curious.

Torden shook his head, weary. “No. No one worries about that; they are not related by blood, and our communities are small. Besides, families take on wards all the time, and these things are bound to happen when people grow up so close. Just—please.” He took my hand. “I don’t want anyone else punished. Bragi never saw her as a sister, but that is what Anya is to me, just as Skop is your brother.”

I massaged my forehead, thinking of Anya and Skop kissing in the woods, so lost together they’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

What would it be like to kiss Torden that way?

My stomach swooped.

Bear’s kiss had been a single stolen moment with a forbidden boy, like something out of a daydream. As fleeting and dubious in its reality as my imagined relationship with Peter, perfect Peter with kindness in his heart and laurel in his hair.

I had never seen how distant Peter had been from me before. I saw it now when I felt how little space remained between Torden and me.

When I looked up at Torden, I saw a boy I was learning at close range, in a deeply specific way. The burdens he carried. His love for his brothers.

It was difficult. And I knew it was real.

“What if we’re caught down here? In—private?” I stumbled over his word. “What then?”

Torden came a step nearer. I pressed myself harder against the wall behind me, the cold stone raising goose bumps over my skin. He put a hand on my bare upper arm. “Anya and Skop are not supposed to be together,” he said, voice husky. “But we . . .” He trailed off again, thumb skimming back and forth over my shoulder.

I pushed my lungs open, pulled in air and courage. “We what?”

“I am terrible at this.” Torden shook his head. “But I would face worse than an older brother for a chance with you.” He slipped his hand down my arm to twine his callused fingers through my own. That chaste gesture alone made me dizzy, but I reached for his other hand.

“I don’t have any brothers,” I said faintly. Torden smiled, eyes burning.

But as he bent, pressing his rough cheek to mine, a door somewhere nearby snapped closed, and Lang’s voice split the silence.