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 thewhat the fuck are you talking aboutlook 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 ofSentinels," 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.
