by Ivy Asher
“Should I take that as a yes?” he teases, and his cock twitches inside of me.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Now let me sit on your dick and tell you a story,” I parrot, grinding against the black curls at his base.
Valen chuckles and nuzzles my neck, nipping at Siah’s runes on my shoulder. I pull his head back so I can stare in his eyes.
“I love you,” I tell him, pausing dramatically. Valen stares at me, waiting patiently for more, but for me, that’s it. That’s the whole beginning, middle, and end to this story. I love him, and I always will. I smile sweetly at him and lean in for a kiss.
“The end,” I tell him, and then I lift up on his shaft and drop back down.
Valen laughs as he deepens the kiss, and I begin to ride him faster. Water sloshes up the sides of the tub as Valen and I let our bodies shout I love you to the other over and over again. Valen leans down and sucks on my nipples, supporting my back with one hand and playing with my clit with the other. I revel in the feel of him everywhere and drive harder, pushing for both of our release.
I can feel Valen is close, and just before he can come, I lean in and whisper, “Now show me those spirit fingers.”
He bellows out a laugh that twines with a moan as he comes. He rubs at my clit harder, and I fall off the edge right behind him, screaming, “These are spirit fingers!”
20
I stare at the old school parchment invitation announcing that my presence is requested by the tribunal. It looks so ancient and out of place in my hands that I expect it to crumble to pieces at any moment. Or maybe it will go full Harry Potter and become a mouth that yells at me to get my ass down to the tribunal room. It does neither of those things. I fold it back up and drop it on the table.
“Do you think that you and Siah combined could both push magic into him, and that would complete the transition into a lamia?” Ryker asks Sorik, who nods absently in thought.
I’ve been listening to all of the guys speculate on what they think is going on with Vaughn and how it could be fixed. The consensus is that when Adriel’s magic wasn’t enough to complete Vaughn’s transition into a lamia, it left him in this weird stasis. Adriel’s magic was enough to keep Vaughn from dying, but not enough to turn him all the way, and now he’s stuck being what he is now.
“Maybe,” Sorik tells Ryker. “I don’t know if either of us have enough magic though. Vaughn was a Sentinel, so if he can be turned into a lamia, I imagine it would take a massive amount of magic to complete the transition. If we try and fail, I worry it could make Vaughn worse off than he is now. I’m hesitant to attempt anything until we know more.”
“Was Sabin right?” Knox asks, pulling my focus from the Vaughn talk.
He gestures to the parchment on the table. “Did they summon you today like he thought they would?”
“Yep, looks like there’s guards waiting outside to escort me down,” I confirm.
Bastien gets up from the couch he’s chilling on, and Knox follows.
“Did it finally come?” Ryker asks as I flash him a goodbye wave and head for the door.
“Sure did,” I chirp.
“Call if you need anything,” Siah shouts after me.
“Will do,” I tell him.
I open the door and pause when my escort is none other than the gray and tan winged Sentinel, Ory. His grin lights up when my face falls at the sight of him.
“Why, good afternoon, Sentinel,” he greets me with an exaggerated bow. I roll my eyes, not able to help it.
Knox and Bastien are silent sentries behind me, their I will fuck you up game strong. I step out of the room, and Ory and another nondescript Sentinel fall into step on each side of me. Bastien and Knox take their place at my back. We make our way down the corridor, my surroundings becoming more and more familiar with each passing day.
Ory’s wing brushes against my shoulder as we walk. I ignore it. I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose. It’s fucking killing me to not ask how he has them. Are they a rune? Something else? The questions itch in my throat, but I keep quiet. I’m pretty sure he knows I’m dying to know, which is why he keeps practically shoving the appendages in my face, but the last thing I’m going to give this guy is any amount of satisfaction.
“Nervous?” Ory asks me when we make our way four floors down the wide twisting steps.
I don’t respond.
“It’s okay to feel worried. You should be,” he offers unhelpfully.
I can’t figure out this dude’s angle. He’s antagonistic, but I’m not sure if that’s just who he is or if there’s a purpose for it. Maybe I should have Nash try to spend some time with him, I could never figure that kid out either.
In no time, we’re in front of the doors that Sabin described earlier as leading into the room the tribunal was holding court in. They open of their own accord, and I enter. Bastien and Knox move to follow me, but Ory stops them.
“Were you summoned also?” Ory asks them smugly. “Didn’t think so. Which means you can scurry off back to the room, as you’re not wanted here.”
I growl at Ory, irritated, at the same time Bastien takes a menacing step toward him. I catch a glint of excitement in Ory’s eyes that sends worry fluttering through me.
“We’ll be right here until you’re done,” Bastien tells me, never taking his eyes off the winged Sentinel.
They stare at each other for a couple more seconds before Bastien moves in front of me and kisses me. I can feel the claim in it, and it makes me smile. Bastien steps back, his own grin reflected in his eyes, and then Knox’s lips are on mine. Knox nips and teases both of my lips in a thorough kiss. Then he and Bastien step back and position themselves to guard the door.
I activate Knox and Bastien’s runes behind my ear as I walk through the doors and they shut behind me. “Love you guys,” I tell them, a wide grin spread across my face, and both of their chuckles bounce around my head in response.
“That little winged fucker is into you, I can feel it,” Bastien tells me, and I give him an incredulous snort.
“I think he just likes fucking with all of us, and he knows that’s the quickest way to rile you up,” I respond, and Knox and Bastien’s own incredulous snorts fill my mind.
“Whatever it is, the prick better watch himself before I pluck him,” Knox informs me, and I can’t help the smile that breaks open on my face. I’m led to a large round table where Sabin, Torrez, Sauriel and the four other tribunal members are already seated.
“Gotta go,” I announce and then recall the magic in the runes behind my ear.
Sabin smiles at me and nods to a chair. I pull one out and sit in it, not sure exactly how this is going to go down. Sabin said everyone simply asks questions, but this all feels stuffier and more formal than the conversational way he and Torrez described it. I notice that Ory and the other guard stand in opposite corners of the room, and I’m irritated that they’re in here, but Knox and Bastien aren’t.
“Offer your name, please,” the female Sentinel with the gray pixie cut and the gray eyes asks me, her request sounding neither friendly nor abrasive.
“Vinna Aylin,” I tell her, and she gives me a nod.
“My name is Naree,” she tells me.
“I am Mote,” the younger looking female with the long white blonde hair and the dark eyes says.
“I am Port,” the male Sentinel on the tribunal introduces. He looks less angry today, but I’m not going to read too much into that.
“And I am Wella,” the eldest female offers.
I nod at all of them and lace my fingers together on the table. Wella and Port both eye the marks on my hands and arms.
“I believe you know the others seated at the table,” Naree announces, and I give her a nod.
“Excellent. Then we will begin,” she decrees.
“Do you know why you are here, Vinna?” Wella asks me.
“I breached your barrier,” I answer, my tone making it seem like more of a question than a definitive answer.
“That, and you attacked the Sovereign,” Port snidely adds.
“I didn’t attack the Sovereign,” I defend. “I attacked him,” I explain, pointing to Sauriel. “I mean, I didn’t actually get to him, my Chosen stopped me, but I tried to attack him.”
Port sneers at me and shares a look with Mote.
Well, shit.
“So you admit that you attacked a Quorum member?” Naree asks me.
“Yes, but it’s not that simple,” I counter.
“And why is it not that simple?” she presses.
“I thought he was his brother, Adriel. I came in search of Sentinel City...I mean...Tierit right after I fought Adriel. When I saw Sauriel, I thought somehow he was still alive,” I explain, but it doesn’t seem to be impacting the narrowed eyes everyone on the tribunal, except for Sabin, is giving me.
“Did you have a plan to attack the Sovereign when you breached our barriers?” Naree asks me, dismissing the Adriel topic.
Why do I get the impression that these people don’t care that he was hunting and torturing Sentinels?
“What?” I ask, surprised by her question. “No. I didn’t even know there was a Sovereign until Sentinel guards were dropping out of the sky and announcing that the Sovereign had ordered that we be dispatched,” I declare.
“How did you get through the barrier?” Mote demands, leaning forward with interest.
“We just walked through.” I’m struggling not to fidget in the chair as they rapid fire questions at me. This is way more hostile and formal than I was expecting. The way Enoch and the others described their questioning and Suryn’s questioning did not involve weighted glares of judgment and a shit ton of accusations.
“We are the tribunal that has been called to decide whether or not you and your Chosen pose a threat to our community and leaders. Lying to us will not help your cause,” Port states with a sneer.
“I haven’t lied,” I defend, looking from Port to Sabin and Torrez, my gaze screaming Mayday.
“Vinna, after you realized that Sauriel was not in fact his identical twin brother, Adriel, did you stop your advances on him?” Sabin asks me.
“Yes,” I answer simply and try not to sigh with relief that not everyone here is filled to the brim with prejudgment.
“When the Sovereign issued a dispatch order against you, what did you think of that?” Sauriel asks me.
“I didn’t understand why. We were hoping to get some answers in coming here. I didn’t know that I would be ordered to death for that. I would have never come and put my Chosen and Shields in harm’s way if I had known we wouldn’t be welcome here,” I add.
The room grows quiet for a moment, and I sit there awkwardly wondering what they’ll hammer me about next.
“We know, from your Shields and your two Chosen here, a great deal about you,” Naree states matter-of-factly. “Sabin has explained how you came to the casters and has detailed the events leading up to your discovery of us here in Tierit. Your Shields discussed your abilities and your training, and all of them have confirmed you're... How did you put it, Sabin? Ah yes, you're winging this whole Sentinel thing.”
I try not to shake my head with frustrated humor at that description of it. I don’t hear a question yet though, so I keep my mouth shut and don’t respond past a nod.
“You were raised by a human, is that correct?” Naree asks me.
“Yes.”
“When that human cast you out, you began to rely on a lamia, is that also correct?”
“I didn’t know he was a lamia at the time, but yes,” I tell her, and I push down at the grief that wells inside of me at the thought of Talon.
“Are you what the casters call a mimic?” Naree fires at me, and I start to wonder if she’s the only one who has questions now or just wants to confirm my back story.
“Yes.”
“How many total markings do you have on your body?”
“Um…” I pause, thinking through her question. “I don’t actually know, I’ve never counted them.”
“Would you be comfortable showing them to us?” Port asks, and I don’t like the glint in his eye as he does.
I pause again and look to Sabin for guidance. He gives an imperceptible shrug.
“Is this somehow going to be used against me?” I ask no one in particular.
“It would give us an idea of your importance, which would factor into our decision. Beyond that, I don’t see how they could be used against you,” Wella tells me.
I study her cloudy eyes for a second, and then I look to Torrez. He gives me a nod, confirming she’s telling the truth.
I push out of my chair.
“Commander, would you please invite the cleric in so he can assist us with identifying any unknown marks?” Naree orders Ory, and he nods and leaves the room.
I stand there, unsure if I’m supposed to strip down now or wait to give this cleric a show too. I’m not necessarily shy or overly modest when it comes to my body. Enoch did mention that they looked at Suryn’s runes too, so this request isn’t completely out of left field, but it’s very clinical, and I feel uneasy about it.
A gray robed man is led into the room. I’m not sure if he’s one of the guys that helped blast an orb through Sabin, but I glare at him all the same. He sits at the round table next to Sauriel and looks up at me expectantly.
I guess I’ll take that as an invitation to show me what you got.
I begin to undress, unlacing my armored vest and pulling it off. My shirt goes up and over my head, and then I pull my boots off. I untie my pants and push them down my hips and off my feet. When I’m in my sports bra and underwear, I step back from the table and hold my hands out.
I’m not sure what I thought they were going to do once my runes were visible, but I didn’t expect them all to get out of their chairs and come inspect me. I look over at Sabin and Torrez and notice that they look tense, which isn’t helping me as I try to activate my chill.
The cleric brings his old book with him as he comes to look me over, and he immediately starts flipping through the pages as he scans my shoulder and arm.
“Fascinating,” he whispers.
“Explain,” Port demands, his patience clearly running thin with anything and everything.
“Her patterns are fascinating. The runes trade off from defensive and protective forms to offensive and weapons forms. They’re layered in a way that makes her very powerful and very protected,” he observes.
The cleric steps closer to me, and I bristle at his proximity.
Don’t threaten him. Don’t stab him. We need to convince these assholes I’m not a threat, not give them more fuel for my death pyre.
I repeat that fact over and over again as the robed Sentinel closely looks me over.
“Huh,” he comments, and once again starts frantically searching through his book again.
“What is it?” Naree asks, and I also look at him, ready for the answer.
“These runes on her shoulders and some on her hands are unusual. They look like runes that have been documented, but they’re just slightly altered. It’s a more evolved magic than we’ve seen in, well…I don’t know. I’d need to consult to be sure.”
“Well, can you tell us what you do know?” Mote asks, her tone taking a page from Port’s annoyed book.
“Yes. She’s quite the arsenal. She has several swords and some smaller blades, maces, a staff, bow and arrows, axes, whips, spears…”
“I have spears?” I ask the cleric in surprise.
He startles at my question and then gives me a nod. “Yes, here.” He points to a rune on my wrist. “And here is a shorter set,” he informs me, pointing to another rune close to the back of my heel. I study the rune on my arm and have to fight not to call on it so I can see for myself. Don’t want these people thinking I’m trying to attack them.
“She also has several runes for speed, strength, enhanced senses, shields for offensive and defensive purposes, and her light called
Shields, which in its own right hasn’t happened since the time of the gates.”
He circles around me and points to my chest. “Her connection with her Chosen is intricate and reinforced in several different ways, which is very unusual. She has mental, emotional, and proximity connections.”
“So what does all of this mean?” Sabin questions, and I look to the cleric, eager for the cliff notes version too.
“She’s more marked than anyone has been since the crossing. It’s advanced and evolved in a way that I haven’t seen here in Tierit. She has seven Chosen, but I suspect she could call more if she wanted to. But the most intriguing thing to me at this point is that her Chosen runes”—he picks up my palm and points to the runes down my ring finger and hand, and I don’t even try to punch him for touching me, I’m so caught up in what he’s going to say—“her Chosen marks are also incorporated in some of her other marks. Portions of them have altered some of her other runes. I think that’s the source for the evolution in some of her markings and I suspect her abilities also.”
“I don’t understand,” Port snaps, and I start to feel bad for the cleric. Looks like I’m not the only one this group isn’t a fan of.
“We’ve operated under the understanding that born Light Marked pairings would result in the strongest magic and markings. But her markings would say otherwise. None of her Chosen are born Light Marked, and yet their abilities still enhanced hers when she marked them. She was strong before but became even more so with each pairing,” the cleric concludes, and the room once again goes silent.
Well, shit. Try to call my kickass magic enhancing mates filth now, motherfuckers!
I smile at Sabin and Torrez and snicker silently at the smug grin Torrez is wearing.
“I’d love to study your markings and abilities more, if you would be open to that?” the cleric asks me with excitement in his eyes and a kind smile on his face. “I would need to do a thorough analysis to confirm what I’ve stated today, but it would really help us to understand your light and abilities.”
Okay, maybe not all the robed Sentinels are orb firing assholes.