by Ivy Asher
“Did you rip me away from the life I built because I’m your blood and I deserve a life filled with family, magic, and love? Or am I fucking here to become whatever weapon you seem to think I am? To be used if possible, and put down if not?”
Once again Lachlan doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough for me. Any hope I ever had that we could develop any kind of familial relationship shrivels into nothing.
“You’re right Silva. We don’t know what my magic will be like after I come into my full power, but you fail to realize that it will still be my magic. If any of you would pull your head out of your asses long enough to know anything about me, you’d know that I’m not some heartless, bloodthirsty monster.”
No one says anything, and it stings like the betrayal it is. I scoff at my stupidity. I’m here because they wanted to keep their potential enemy close. It was never about me finding my place as a caster or being wanted. Rage sears my insides as I look at each of them. I would have been better off not being found.
“Fuck you guys.”
I start up the stairs, and someone calls my name and moves to follow me. I call on a throwing knife and fling it at the feet of whichever asshole is behind me. It thunks into the wood and someone yelps in surprise.
“Just trying to live up to my hype," I seethe over my shoulder.
35
I reach my room and slam the door shut. I close my eyes and lean back against it while I take deep slow breaths and try not to scream. I’m startled when I hear someone approach me, and I find five pairs of eyes filled with concern.
“What are you guys doing in here?” I ask and then clear my throat at the emotion that just leaked through in my voice.
“Being nosy. We thought the best way to get some answers was to ambush you," Valen explains. The playful smile on his face quickly falls away when he takes a closer look at me. “What happened?”
“Well long story short, the elders wanted in on my reading to better assess how much of a threat I might be. Don’t worry though, Lachlan’s coven didn’t allow that to happen.”
I watch as a few of their shoulders relax and then tense up again as I go on.
“Oh, they didn’t keep the elders away for the reasons you’re thinking. They weren’t protecting me. They’re fucking protecting the elders. Big, dangerous, and scary Vinna will be dealt with by the asshole paladin who are supposed to be her coven, so there’s that to be grateful for.”
“Wait, what makes any of them think you’re dangerous, or a threat?” Knox asks just as confused as I was.
“To quote Lachlan--the newest recipient of the shittiest uncle award--they don’t know where I come from, and I’ve been designed as the perfect weapon. They all think that because I’m capable, I’m automatically culpable.”
“Fuck that," Bastien snaps.
“Yeah that’s more or less what I said, then I threw a knife at someone who tried to follow me upstairs. Probably not my finest moment.”
I hear several snickers as I walk over to the bed where a white dress, a pouch of herbs, and a glass vile that’s filled with clear liquid sit. I’ve been waiting for this reading and what it will tell me about my magic since I got here, but there’s no excitement about it anymore. All I feel right now is a little broken and a lot pissed off.
The wood box containing Laiken’s ashes catches my eye, and I stare at it and berate myself. Why am I so hurt by this? I should fucking know better by now. I followed perfect strangers to the middle of nowhere out of sheer desperation. Should I really be shocked that this is how it turned out? I take in the details of Laiken’s box, and a decision cements itself in my mind. I’ll get through this reading, and then I’m done with the paladin.
I can tell that the guys want to say or do something that will make all of this better for me somehow, but everyone stays silent, understanding that the damage has been done. I pick up the white dress that’s laid out and throw it over my elbow. Grasping the pouch of herbs and the corked bottle I head into the bathroom to get ready for my reading.
An hour later I step into the dress. It’s white, long, and flowy. The top part is a halter that ties around my neck and fits snugly against my chest and sides. There isn’t a back, and the waist drops low on my hips. The accordion-esque fabric starts just above the crack of my ass and flows nicely over my curves to the ground.
I’ve used my magic to style big loose curls into my hair, and I’ve parted it to the side. I grab what’s left of the contents of the stoppered glass vile, and open the door that separates the bathroom from the bedroom.
“Knox, can you put some of this on the middle of my back. I’m not sure if I reached everything.”
My voice trails off, as I stare at the five gorgeous men in front of me decked out in white from head to toe. They’re all in identical white linen tunics with fitted pants in the same material. The clothing has an old and otherworldly look about it, and a mixture of heat and awe fills me as I take the guys in.
“Where did you get these?” I ask pointing at their clothes confused.
“The sisters made them up for everyone in the house. They weren’t sure who you’d want in your reading, so they made sure everyone was prepared," Valen explains. “If you don’t want us there, we completely understand and support that, but we wanted to be ready, just in case.”
“Of course, I want you there."
I look at each of them and try to silently convey how much it means to me that they want to be there for me, for no other reason than to offer their support.
Knox steps forward and takes the glass bottle from my grasp. He pulls out the stopper and tilts the contents into his hand. I turn around and pull all my hair to the side. He rubs the potion into my bare back and sides with his strong hands.
I tilt my head back and do everything I can to stop myself from leaning into his touch. Knox finishes and places a kiss where my neck meets my shoulder, right over the runes there. His lips coax out the faintest moan, and when I turn around to thank him for his help, he smiles wolfishly at me. I look over at Sabin and fix him with a glare.
“You told them about the magic tornado that happens when my runes are touched, didn’t you?”
“Uh, was that supposed to be a secret?” he asks innocently.
“Not cool Captain, not cool at all," I admonish him trying to look serious and not at all amused.
“You look incredible," he tells me, and all of the guys voice their approval and agreement.
I give them a big smile, and then I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever’s about to go down.
“Alright, let’s do this,” I announce, and we all make our way downstairs.
Lachlan and his coven congregate in the living room, and my guys gather around me like they’re guarding me against anything that might come our way. I’ve strapped back on all the armor I had been shedding since I moved here, and my demeanor is hard and unyielding.
I observe several looks of surprise from Lachlan’s coven when they take in the boys all dressed in white as they surround me the way that they are, but no one says anything.
Lachlan moves toward me and starts to say something, but he’s interrupted when a man I have never seen before walks into the living room from the kitchen.
“Reader Tearson is ready; please follow me.”
He takes all of us to a closed door that doesn’t lead to a linen closet like I thought it did.
“The casters who will serve as witnesses will enter first. Once they are arranged, the door will open again, and that is when you will enter.” The stranger looks to me, and I nod in understanding.
The door opens on its own and reveals a dimly lit hallway. Lachlan steps toward the new opening, but my voice stops him.
“I don’t want them there," I announce, and the robed assistant turns to me, a questioning look on his face. “I don’t trust them, and I don’t want them in the reading.”
Lachlan opens his mouth to say something I’m sure is going to piss me off, but the
robed caster holds up a hand and stops him.
“Vinna, as he is your blood, it is customary for him and his coven to be present for your reading. However, I will not dismiss your feelings. I will ask that Reader Tearson place a binding upon the ceremony so that nothing can be discussed without your permission or presence, once the reading is complete.”
He looks at me silently for a moment, and I nod my head in agreement with his compromise. Aydin’s gaze is burning a hole in me, but I refuse to look at him or any of the others.
The robed caster leads the paladin into the hallway, and my guys all hug me before walking in after them. The door closes behind Ryker as he gives me a reassuring smile, and I suddenly find myself alone. I feel apprehensive and restless, as I wait--what feels like forever--for the door to open again. In reality, it’s probably only five minutes before it cracks open on its own and I step through.
The hallway and floor are comprised of gray stone, and the coldness of it seeps into me through my bare feet. Soft gas-lit lanterns guide my way, and they create an old and eerie feel to the space surrounding me. The hallway opens up into a large dimly lit stone room. Traces of residual magic surround me, and I get the feeling that the stones comprising this room are old and have witnessed more than I could ever know.
The paladin and the guys all stand around the edges of the room, still and staring straight ahead. There’s a marble table with two chairs in the center, and on the far side of the table stands an elderly caster dressed in a red ceremonial robe. Reader Tearson’s kind eyes are taking in every move that I make towards him, and I find it interesting and unsettling all at the same time.
He reaches out to me, and I automatically offer my hand in greeting. Instead of shaking it, like I thought he was going to do, he bends and brings his forehead down to the knuckles of my hand and then places a kiss on them.
Taken aback, and not sure what the hell to do now, I just stand there.
“Sentinel, Your Greatness, I can’t begin to describe how elated I am to meet you.”
36
Ten heads snap to where we’re standing, but I stay focused on this man who’s still bent worshipfully over my hand. I set my other hand on his shoulder hoping he’ll stand up and explain what the hell he’s talking about, and thank fuck it seems to work.
“Forgive me, Your Greatness. I’m sure I’m confusing you, please sit and allow me to explain.”
We separate, and the stranger that guided everyone into this room steps away from the wall and bows to me before he pulls my chair out. He looks at me, awe and warmth radiating from him, and smiles.
“I beg your pardon, for taking so long to get to you. As soon as I was made aware of your discovery, I started making all the necessary arrangements on your behalf. It took longer than I had hoped, but I think you will be pleased with everything once you understand.”
I try to keep the what the fuck are you talking about look from my face and nod offering him a small smile. Reader Tearson beams at me and clasps his hands together.
“Your Greatness you are not simply a caster, but we suspect the last of the line of Sentinels," he pauses dramatically, and I stare back at him blankly. Not deterred by my lack of reaction he continues excitedly.
“It was thought that the Sentinels died out almost a thousand years ago, yet here you are proving how wrong we were. But I’m getting ahead of myself; let me start at the beginning. Sentinels were caster royalty. They had stronger, more gifted magic, and therefore, they ruled over and protected the caster race since the first spark of magic.
“Unfortunately, over time their power and skills were coveted by many outside and inside the caster ranks, and they were brutally and systematically hunted, used and often murdered for that power. Diminishing numbers made it difficult to maintain Sentinel rule, and ultimately the royal family stepped down and went into hiding.
“A select line of Readers were tasked with assisting and chronicling the family tree of the Sentinels, and Reader Conlin and I come from that line," Tearson explains, as he gestures to the robed man who pulled out my chair.
“I have brought scans of some ancient texts from our archives in Europe that will offer greater detail and understanding about your history. I have put all of your family accounts into your name, and I will ensure you have access to all of it before I leave here at the conclusion of your reading.”
I stare at him dumbfounded.
“It is beyond an honor to meet you. I never thought I would be blessed with such a gift as meeting the last Sentinel. My ancestors continued to pass down the knowledge regardless of the loss of contact. They also maintained the inheritance in the hopes that some Sentinels survived in hiding and would someday reappear, and alas, here you are.”
Reader Tearson clasps his hands excitedly, and his eyes well with tears.
“And you’ve already selected some Chosen I see.” He runs his hand over the runes on my ring finger.
My eyes get even wider. “What does that mean?” I ask shakily, as I look down at the runes on my hands.
“It is one of the rare things that set Sentinels apart. When you find a compatible mate, your magic will mark them. This allows you to build the necessary connection that will be required to complete the transferal. Which happens when you bind yourself and your magic to them.”
I stare at him for a minute before I admit, “I don’t understand.”
Tearson takes my hand in his and pats it affectionately.
“You see, when you bind yourself to your Chosen mate, you will bestow your runes and your magic onto them. When the binding is complete, they will have identical runes and abilities as you have. A Sentinel’s ability to transfer their magic is one of their most coveted gifts.”
Stunned, my eyes find the guys. I’m not sure what to think about this. I knew that marking them was a big deal and that it connected us in an unusual way, but this is on a whole other level of intensity.
“Don’t fret Your Greatness; your magic would not have marked a caster unworthy of your gift. It is a great honor to be Chosen. Multiply that infinitely, to be marked as Chosen to the last known Sentinel in history.”
Reader Tearson’s claims of infinite honor go in one ear and right out the other. The guys and I were just starting this whole relationship thing out. Now they’re permanently bound to me whether they like it or not. Nice Vinna, way to skip a shit ton of steps when it comes to dating and relationships. Fuck!
Oblivious to my distress and internal berating, Reader Tearson continues.
“I’ve only seen documentation of two mate runes on a Sentinel, but from the look of things, you have five Chosen is that right?” Tearson asks me.
“How do you know?” I query surprised.
“This rune represents you," he points to the eight-pointed star on my finger. “Each of the other runes represents a Chosen. Each Chosen will have his rune directly underneath yours in the markings on his body. With your permission, I’d like to document your runes, as well as the runes of your Chosen before we leave. They need to be added to the archives for posterity’s sake.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a couple of the boys looking over the runes on their hands.
“You’d have to ask them if they’d be comfortable with that," I answer absently.
“Of course. Well, I’m sure you’re eager to start the reading, with Sentinels it’s done a little differently than it is with casters. This will be the first time I’ve done this type of reading, so I beg your patience. Reader Conlin is my successor, so he will be assisting and taking note of everything as we go.”
I look over to the other man and he bows his head to me again.
“Typically, from what I understand, there are usually other Sentinels available to help the young interpret their runes and what they do. Being that this is not the case for you, it might be easiest if I go through a checklist of possibilities and you can indicate any qualities or skills that you currently possess.”
I look to Lachlan a
nd then quickly away. “Before I tell you what I can do, can you tell me who will have access to this information?”
Tearson offers me a gentle smile. “This information stays within the people in this room and will be documented in archives only select Readers can access. Each of the Readers who have access have sworn blood oaths to protect those secrets."
I nod in understanding.
“Reader Conlin informed me that you wanted a binding placed on this ceremony. I have already started it, and when your reading is over, I will seal it. That will keep the people in this room from speaking freely to anyone but each other or you about anything they’ve witnessed or heard.”
Reader Conlin hands Reader Tearson a list, and he proceeds to go through it marking down the abilities that I indicate I have. About a third into the list it becomes clear from the looks on both Reader’s faces that I can do more than the average Sentinel.
“Just to confirm I have this correctly, you can: mimic most anything you see, increase your speed and strength, increase your hearing, land and avoid sustaining injury when you jump from great heights, siphon and alter another caster’s magic, and you have an innate ability to fight and defend yourself. Anything else?” Reader Conlin asks.
Someone in the room scoffs but I ignore it as I shake my head no.
“And over what time frame did your runes begin to appear?” Conlin asks me.
“I think from start to finish it was maybe forty minutes," I explain.
“Forty minutes for each one, but over what period of time?”
Taking in my confused look Tearson further elaborates. “How many months did it take from your first rune until you got your last rune?”
“Um, they all showed up at the same time. I think it took about forty minutes from start to finish, but I wasn’t exactly keeping track of time due to all the excruciating pain I was experiencing at the moment. It started sometime around three in the morning on my sixteenth birthday. I haven’t gotten any new runes since then, until the other day when I received my… Chosen marks.” It feels really weird to call them that.
