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The king.He means the King of Fae. Dread shoots down my spine.

I close my mouth and take the paper back from him, looking away as I shove it into my bag. “Thank you, sir.”

I turn to leave the class and curse under my breath. Connor is still standing there, waiting for me. He has the course syllabus in his hand, and his lips are pulled into a bright smile.

Alice is waiting for me beside the door. Her eyes are darting around, and she is obviously planning for our great escape. Connor anticipates this and moves to block the door, handing a syllabus to Alice first and then one out to me as I approach. He holds on to the top of the paper as I reach for it.

“Thanks,” I grumble, tugging on the paper and waiting for him to move.

Connor doesn’t release the other half of the paper, so I slowly lift my gaze to meet his.

“What are the chances?” He grins, his eyes bright and joyful.

“Yeah. Later, angel boy.” I brush past him and leave the room, Alice hustling behind me.

“See you later, mystery girl,” Connor calls after me, amusement lacing his voice.

“Your luck is like… curse-worthy,” Alice says, linking my arm through her.

“Whatever, we only made out like a little bit.”

“Only a little.” She snickers. “Are you going to make out again?”

“No,” I growl, stalking toward our next class. For some reason, even the short make out session last night bordered on too intimate for comfort. I hurry into the classroom and sitdown. Relief at being free of Connor washes over me, entwining with the excitement that my next class is Runes 100.

“Why not?” Alice asks, flopping into the seat next to me.

I pull out my phone, sifting through the thousands of notifications. “Because I don’t date, and I don’t backslide.” I turn off the notifications. “Plus, he tried to feed me a sandwich.”

Alice laughs. “You’re really upset about that sandwich.”

“I looked hot as fuck. I was sitting on a counter, we were making out, and his first thought was,Oh, I should make her eat carbs.”

Alice laughs again. “Here lies Summer Tuatha De Daanan, who never forgot the guy who tried to give her a sandwich mid-make-out.”

I roll my eyes but am saved from the conversation by the professor’s arrival. She is a short lady with bobbed red hair. “Hello, hello! My name is Professor Brooks, and I will be guiding you through your first semester of the intriguing world of Ancient Runes. Runes are vital to our magic. They are conduits that arcane beings have used since the beginning of time to channel the raw arcane ability that exists inside us. I understand we have different levels of knowledge within the class, but I’m sure that everyone has used at least rudimentary runes that make day-to-day life a little easier.”

Professor Brooks waves her hand toward her desk. All the papers scattered across it flutter and arrange themselves into neat little piles of their own accord. The professor points to a rune on her neck that vanishes as she spends its energy for the small task.

I smile, taking notes. Runes, even the small rudimentary ones I’ve experimented with, have always felt natural to me, and I can’t wait to learn more. I am nearly giddy with excitement. Here, I will learn to understand more words of power, words of knowledge, and words of magic. I need more power. I crave it.

“So the word rune, from the Latinrunaand the Old Norserún, is a group of ancient sublanguages used since time began. The first documented runic language was created by the fae Tiana. She created runes when they came to her in a dream, and she began speaking in a language so ancient the name is long lost. Their power was discovered purely by chance when Tiana was attacked within the deep forests of the lost realm of Faerie. Desperate to survive, she drew the rune on her arm in her blood. Legend says that her whole body glowed, shattering the gloom of twilight. The rune drawn upon her skin protected her from harm, obliterating her attacker. And most of the forest. The fae have always had a natural penchant for runic knowledge and creation. The skill has become almost hereditary among the fae, and throughout the centuries, almost every species has become adept. Beings of each realm have adjusted the concept to their own source language, but the term rune remains.”

My fingers freeze mid-word. Is that why I am so attuned to runes and why they come to me so naturally? Just because I’m a fucking fae? My pen cracks in my hand, and I barely stop myself from breaking it.

“I should add that fae and sorcerers alike both have an advantage when using runes as they are not limited by their source language. In other words, if they know the rune, they are able to use the rune. This is different for other species, who are limited to the runes of their ancestral realm. Some runic languages are more proficient at certain tasks than others. If you want to cast a powerful elemental spell, it is best to use Ancient Greek or Archaic Latin. But if you want to cast powerful wards, Daoine Sith is your best bet.”

Daoine Sith, the language of Faerie.

The professor continues, “I would like to start the lesson by having you copy out this literature on rune history and the structure of a rune, and then I will give out assignments forthe end of the week. Before the end of the week, you’ll need to pick your first school-approved implement.” Professor Brooks lifts her glasses, drawing my attention to the sharp point on the very edge of the frames. “The implement is a very intimate choice to the rune caster, so pick with caution. Of course, shifters and beings with claws may use their natural advantage for this assignment. I want all of you to consider the reason for the implement. Without the pure arcane magic that flows through all of us, drawing a rune is no more than a symbol.”

Professor Brooks slices the tip of her finger on the sharp corner of her glasses. Rolling up her sleeve, she draws a rune on the inside of her wrist. The blood darkens until it turns black, the spell now stored in her skin and ready to be summoned.

“And as you advance, you’ll learn the difference between single runes and the far more complex runic circles.” With a wave of her hand, her power fluctuates, and a glowing circle bursts into existence in front of her fingers. The runes it contains detail the more complex spell she’d stored somewhere on her skin. “Runes are only limited by the caster’s knowledge of the language. In the world of the arcane, it is not might that will win every battle, but the one with the greatest knowledge of the runic languages. In future years, we will explore spell wheels and the best tactical ways to store and use them in battle, but that is far more advanced.”

Alice groans at the assignment that’s just popped up on our phones. “Fuck. I hate languages. Can’t we make a new way to cast that doesn’t require so much work?”

“They’re really basic ones. I’m sure you’ll do great,” I assure her, but she throws me a skeptical look.