Page 164 of Sorrow & Strangers

“You are extremely powerful, Miss Tuatha De Daanan. More so than you realize.” I meet his gaze, a little surprised. His praise is hard-won. “Infernal runes powered by one of the three M’s, any of the three M’s, are more targeted, more dangerous, more powerful, and Lucifer will be betting on you not knowing that. It has been his mission to ensure that the Infernal language is only known by his people.”

I nod, taking it all in. “Sir? There is something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Ask away,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. His bare forearms flex, drawing my attention to them.

Clearing my throat, I look away. “I was wondering if you might know of a rune or a potion I could use for a dreamless sleep? I have tried every rune I can conjure up, but none of them help.”

He pauses, watching me. “There is a reason for that, Miss Tuatha De Daanan. Dreamless sleep is a dangerous thing. It allows for the void of dreams to be filled by anything or anyone, potentially with malicious intent.” He tilts his head. “Show me the rune you’ve been trying.”

I turn and move my hair, showing him the rune that sits right beside the hickey.

“And how many dreamless nights have you achieved with this?”

“None.”

“None?” he asks, and I glance at him. “That’s odd. Have you found your dreams to be . . . fantastical or more memory-based?”

“They are not memory-based,” I say quickly and drop my hair, turning back around to face him.

“Are there elements of your dreams you couldn’t possibly have experienced? Places you’ve never seen?”

“They are things I’ve never done, I guess.”

“Hm. Let me look into it. We would need to safeguard your mind to allow for a safe sleep.”

“I am already working on that with a . . . someone.”

He frowns, studying me for a long moment. “All right . . .”

“Thank you, sir. The dreams are not conducive to restful sleep, and I think it is starting to affect me.”

“Nightmares?” he asks, his brows shooting up.

“Not . . . exactly.”

He watches me for a moment, and then he blinks. “Ah.” He clears his throat. “Those kinds of dreams can negate runes.”

“They can?” I ask, my voice coming out a bit squeaky. The desire to be swallowed up by the ground is overwhelming as the heat burns up my neck to my cheeks.

“Yes. If the desire is strong enough.”

So it’s my desire that’s the problem?

“I should go. Thank you, sir.”

He lowers his chin in a shallow nod, his face once again that stony expression of the uncaring, brutal headmaster. He opens the portal and I step through, leaving his office, wanting to die from embarrassment.

Chapter Seventy-One

Summer

Later that afternoon, I nearly stomp through the forest to meet the stranger, my mood no better than it was earlier. In fact, it’s worse. All day I’ve felt eyes on my neck thanks to the enormous hickey he maimed me with.

“Hello, princess,” he says smugly.

“You fucking marked me,” I growl. I stop across the clearing from him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Is that a question?” he asks, prowling closer. “Or are you expecting an apology?”