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 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 and 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.

Both Readers stare at me openmouthed, and I look back and forth between their displays of shock.

“Is that not normal?” I ask.

“I’d have to do some additional research, but from memory, I’d say your experience is rare," Tearson tells me, and Conlin resumes his frantic writing.

I nod my head, very used to accepting my freakish ways. I’m a freak among nons, among casters, and now among sentinels, why not?

“Do you need to see my weapons too?” I ask, already moving to stand up.

“Please," Tearson responds, but I can tell he’s a little surprised. Do other Sentinels not have weapons? I wonder, and then chuckle internally, well he’s going to be in for quite the surprise then.

I begin to call on my personal arsenal, snickering at the look on the Reader’s face, as I pull one weapon after another. I lay the sword and staff from my back down first. Then I call on the short swords from my ribs. I set down the bow and a handful of arrows that come from my shoulders. The mace and axe from the back of my thighs are next, and lastly, I summon a couple throwing knives. I stare at the table now covered in weapons and feel like some medieval assassin who’s just disarmed. There are a lot of options even though I tend to use only a handful of these weapons.

“I also have shields on my arms, legs, and shoulders, but I can’t take them off to show you," I tell Tearson and watch as Reader Conlin comes closer to the table, quickly documenting everything that he sees.

A slight movement to my left draws my attention, and I find Lachlan and his coven staring at me. I suddenly feel stupid. What am I thinking, putting my secrets on display like this? Maybe the paladin won’t be able to tell my secrets to others, but they can still use all of this information against me.

This is exactly what they wanted, to deal with me themselves if need be. I might as well be giving them a roadmap to the ways they could kill me when they decide that’s what’s best for them. I’m such an idiot! With a thought, I call back all of the magic in the weapons, and they disappear in a blink from the table. Reader Conlin makes a noise of surprise and stares at the now empty marble table.

“Sorry, I just realized I’ve left myself exposed. In my experience that never works out very well for me," I offer in explanation, my eyes roaming coldly over the paladin.

“Vinna-” Lachlan starts, but a quick look from Reader Tearson silences him.

“You’re fine, Your Greatness. Let’s move on.”

I take my seat, and Reader Tearson proceeds to pull five medium-sized rocks from a velvet bag and place them on the top of his side of the table.

“Each crystal represents a branch of magic. When you’re ready, bring one hand up to the table. The crystal you attract represents the kind of magic you possess.”

This is it, what everyone has been waiting for. What kind of magic will I have? I thought I’d be super nervous about what will change after I find out, but after the whole Sentinel and Chosen bomb, I’m feeling pretty calm.

My hand is steady as I bring it to hover over my side of the table. Three crystals shoot across the surface, stinging my hand with their impact. I squeak, surprised. A fourth crystal moves more slowly across the table before it stops, centimeters shy of my hovering palm. The fifth crystal wiggles, but stays firm in its place on the Reader’s side of the table.

Reader Conlin removes the crystals that are attached to my skin like magnets to metal and hands them back to Reader Tearson. His eyes are beaming excitement as he takes the crystals and tells me what this all means.

“You have very strong Offensive, Defensive, and Elemental magic. As well as a strong affinity for Healing magic. I would not be surprised if your Healing magic develops into a very strong affinity with some work. It seems Spell magic, however, will not be your forte.”

“Holy shit!” someone exclaims.

Reader Tearson’s brows furrow, but he ignores the outburst and begins to place the crystals back into the bag, his focus and huge grin still trained on me.

“You’re nothing short of extraordinary, Your Greatness, but I would expect nothing less of the last Sentinel. I’m in awe of everything we’ve discovered here today.”

I smile bashfully at his statement. His reverence and awe feel unearned, and I can’t help feeling awkward about it. I try to ignore the praise over my existence and focus on being glad to have some answers finally. I remember him telling me that he has scans from archives that will tell me more about everything I’ve learned today, and I feel lighter with the realization that I’ll have access to more answers as time goes on.

I take a deep breath and look around the room. I’ve been waiting so long to know what was revealed to me today, but this moment feels somewhat anticlimactic. Maybe I’m in shock, or maybe my anger from what happened earlier is tainting things.

Reader Tearson stands up and walks over to Silva. He begins to chant slowly finishing with some unusual hand movements and then moves to Evrin repeating the same thing. I assume this is the sealing he was telling me he would do at the end of the reading. I’m relieved that it’s now over, and I realize just how drained I feel. Images of my comfy bed flood my mind, and I stifle a yawn.

I still have questions about my parents, among other things, but I’ll deal with that tomorrow. I don’t think I can process any more information tonight. Reader Tearson finishes the binding and approaches me. He bows again and asks Reader Conlin if there is anything more they need.

He gives a quick shake of his head and then bows to me as well. I’m instructed that we should leave the room in the opposite order that we entered it, so I thank the Readers and then follow the dim lamps back out of the door into the empty hallway.

I know that I should wait and have many of the conversations I’m sure the others are dying to have, but right now I just want to be alone. I sprint up to my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I strip hurriedly out of the white dress and turn on the tap to fill the tub. I sprinkle bath salts and splash in some bubble bath, and I breathe in the relaxing aroma of lavender as it fills the air around me.

I’m perched naked in the dark on the edge of the huge bathtub when the first knocks sound at my door. I hear a muffled voice, but I can’t make out who it is or what they’re saying. I ignore them. I toss my hair up into a messy bun and sink into heat and bubbles. I adjust the tap making it even hotter and lay back while the rest of the tub fills.

I’m a Sentinel. The last in a line of hunted and murdered magic users. I have a ton of unusual abilities, and I’ve forced five guys into a permanent magical connection with me whether they like it or not. I possess affinities for four of the five branches of magic and the only family I have in this world either wants to use me or kill me.

Fuck.

I never thought I’d see the day when being an unwanted, homeless teenager that fights for a living seemed like a simpler way of life.