Page 69 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Being the last of your kind is an isolating business,” he says.

I shrug. “I never fit in with the fae, anyway. This isn’t any more isolating. Plus, at least now I know why.”

He nods. “I am no longer affiliated with the Sorcerer’s Guild, and have not been for a long while. This is something I am familiar with,” he says. I frown, filing that information away for later. The Sorcerer’s Guild is not something you just leave. “Being different from one’s kind cuts deeper when the species is led by your father,” he continues.

I nod. “I can imagine.” Though not really, because I have no idea what it is like to have a true parent, and even less of an idea what it would take to leave them.

“But I made myself into a threat. One that even the freshest-faced sorcerers would not dare challenge.”

My core heats a little at his words, at the danger behind them.

He looks at me, his gaze burning into mine. “And you will do the same.”

I clear my throat and look away. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll make time for you to train with me during the week.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, still not looking at him, his dominance beating at me.

“Are you up for the challenge, Miss Tuatha De Daanan?” he asks, and I am compelled to lift my gaze to meet his. “You must devote yourself to this. There can be no half measures.”

“I will do whatever it takes to protect Rafe,” I say, looking into his mercurial eyes, something dark and powerful stirring within me.

His lips curl into a menacing smile. “I thought that might be your answer,” he says with a lift of his chin, pride coating his words. “I’ll add some more wards, and we will begin soon.”

After the headmaster leaves, I check on Alice and Rafe before heading straight for the library. I wander through the stacks, letting the silence soothe me as I collect the books. I’ve found two and have a third balanced open on top, trying to read the faded text. A strong hand wraps around my wrist, and I gasp, dropping the heavy tomes on the floor as I’m pulled into the shadows.

“I told you we aren’t finished,” the stranger hisses into my ear.

“What the fuck do you want?”

He spins us so my body is sandwiched between his body and the wall. “Watch the way you speak to me, little fae.”

I glare up at him. My breathing is shallow, but I am determined to maintain my cool stare.

“What happened with Lucifer?” he asks, and there is something akin to concern in his voice.

“That, like every single aspect of my life, is none of your business,” I growl.

His jaw feathers a little in frustration, and my gaze threatens to get stuck there, tracing the sharp line I can see even in his amorphous form. “You are my business, as you know.”

“I stopped being your business the second you threatened my relationship,” I whisper, though I’m not sure why. Don’t I want someone to discover us? To be safe and in a more populated area of the library where he can’t get to me?

His hand slams against the wall above my head, and I feel the force of the blow vibrate against my back. “Do not put words in my mouth,” he snarls.

I stare up at him defiantly, my anger refusing to allow me to be intimidated. “You will never be Summer Morningstar,” I growl. “Remember that?” I ask with such vitriol that I practically spit the words at him.

“And you consider that a threat?” His voice changes to a purr, a seductive lilt. “When I threaten you, princess, you’ll know it.”

I try to suppress the shiver that creeps down my spine, not wanting him to see the pleasure that his dark words and the low rumble in his voice elicit.

He leans closer, his face a breath from mine. “Now, answer my question,” he croons.

I press onto my tiptoes and lean toward him. If he were corporeal, our lips would almost be touching. “Get fucked,” I whisper, and let the anger I’ve been keeping at bay surge forward. A ball of power forms in my palm, and a rune on my wrist glows brightly. I worked on this one with him in mind, just in case I needed to get away from him.

I slam my hand against his chest, and he curses when he is forced back a couple of steps. The second he is off me, I push away from the wall and run, but I only make it a few steps before crashing into a wall of solid air in the middle of the aisle. Dazed, I slide to the floor, listening to his even, unhurried steps as he approaches.

“Someone’s been studying . . .” he drawls, crossing his arms and looming over me.