I nodded. His hands were gentle as he traced the skin over my hectic pulse with his little finger. I studied the shape, like a backward N. “What is it?”

“Sol. This rune means sun.” He lifted my wrist to blow on the ink, and goose bumps raced up my arm, my skin thrilling beneath his breath.

As long as you are mine, he had said, because I am yours.

Asgard was nothing like Potomac, could never be home to me.

But I was beginning to suspect Torden could be.

“Is it possible,” I asked, “that it’s only Friday?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve known each other for nine days.” I thought of all the tick marks I’d added to the back page of my godmother’s book the night before, correcting my error born of distraction. “Is this too much, too soon?”

“Everything feels more with so little time.” Torden gestured, as though either English or words in general failed him. “More. Faster. Sooner.”

I shook my head. “I wish we had more time.”

More time to make such a huge decision. More time to reconcile an immovable object and an unstoppable force. If he had to stay, and I had to go, was there a middle where we could meet?

“We have a few days to work it out.” Torden brushed a curl from my face. “Let’s take our time.”

He leaned forward and kissed me, slowly. I let my hands wander back up his arms and into his hair, let my mind drift into thoughtless bliss.

Pounding footsteps and rumbling male voices filled the hall. Their door swung open, and Aleksei stopped short in the entryway, stumbling forward as Bragi and Fredrik plowed into him. “Aleksei, don’t— Oh. Hei, Selah!” Bragi said. Hermódr loped in behind them.

We flew apart, faces flushed.

Fredrik grinned wanly. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Idiot.” Bragi punched Fredrik in the shoulder and pushed past Aleksei toward his desk. The word—the same in both our languages!—usually delighted me, but as Bragi swept Anya’s notes into a drawer, his regretful eyes sank my heart. I’d assumed Bragi and Fredrik were two peas in a pod, but where Anya’s brother simply chased women—any women—Bragi loved only Anya.

“What’s on your—” Aleksei seized my wrist and snorted, rolling his eyes.

I snatched my arm away. “What was that for?”

Aleksei held up his palms and turned away. “Nothing.”

I stalked after him. “What, Aleksei? What’s your problem now?” A few blond and brunet heads appeared in the doorway, drengs I didn’t know coming back from the bonfire.

Aleksei smirked. “There is no problem. I am only surprised at how quickly you got him housebroken.”

“Selah . . .” Torden laid a hand on my shoulder.

“You just got my friend kicked out,” I spat. “Skop is gone. Did you know that?”