The Lost and the Chosen (The Lost Sentinel, #1)

by Ivy Asher

“Did you just rock-paper-scissors for me?” “Well, not for you exactly, just to see who you’d ride with.” Valen smirks at me.

He hits the brakes suddenly, forcing me back up against him and someone behind us shouts their irritation.

Fuck yes, I don’t have to feel wrong for wanting them…all of them.

I’d pounce on him, too. I’d just duct tape his mouth so I could stare at him without having to listen to him say rude, antiquated, sexist shit.

“Like you said, I am new to this world. I have no idea where I’m going or what my magic can do. I have no business dragging you guys into all my uncertain variables. I’m doing what you asked. Deal with it.”

“I’m not going to lie, Bruiser; my inner caveman really likes that.”

“Shifters have strong bones and a seriously high pain tolerance,” she offers in explanation of their crazy-ass shenanigans. “Come on, let’s go eat; I’m starving.” My mind jumps back to the arena and the sound of Torrez’s jaw breaking. I shake it off and follow Mave back down to the blanket.

“Explain what in the name of terminator happened back there?”

“So Ryker heals, and Knox spells, what do you guys have?” “I have Elemental magic,” Sabin tells me. Valen raises his hand slightly. “I have offensive magic.” “And I have defensive magic,” Bastien finishes with a wink.

“There are five of you and one of me, which is a great start to a romance novel or a wet dream, but in reality, it’s all so much more complicated than that.”

“Which means we’re all with you, and you are with us, and no one strays from that,” he finishes, more seriously.

They’re not going to be happy when they realize that’s not the door I’m headed for. I leap over my bed and fling open the French doors that lead to my balcony.

A feral growl rumbles in my chest, and I bellow a challenging roar at anything that would fuck with me. Whoa, where the hell did that come from?

I don’t manage one more step before the guys are on me. They’re all shouting at once, and I pick up on several—what the fucks—some—you scared the ever-loving shit out of me—and a whole lot of—don’t ever do that again.

“You just sparked up and jumped off the balcony, like you were Selene in Underworld. I was terrified and turned on at the same time!”

Bastien pulls a cookie-filled hand toward his mouth, but I redirect it and manage to steal a huge bite. It’s then I learn that it’s okay when he and his brother steal my treats, but they can’t take what they dish out. The look on his face as he stares at the missing bite in his cookie screams betrayal.

I look around, waiting for whoever he’s asking to respond, but everyone is staring at me.

I can’t help but take in how incredibly gorgeous he is. If only he wasn’t such a dick.

“I could feel that rightness that you and the others were talking about. I could feel my magic responding and being strengthened by yours. Magic in its basest form is pure, and my magic wants to be tied to yours. That blew all of my doubts and reservations away. It forced me to wake up and see you for what you are.” “What’s that?” I ask quietly. “Ours.”

“You look more like a flirty Disney princess than the brooding badass you’re going for right now,”

“Holy shit, it’s actually happening?” I say astonished. Nice, Vinna, poker face intact, but filter clearly is broken.

“Sentinel, Your Greatness, I can’t begin to describe how elated I am to meet you.”

“Your Greatness, you are not simply a caster, but we suspect the last of the line of Sentinels.”

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.

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“I’m not adorable. I’m a terrifying Sentinel, haven’t you heard?”

“Why would you pay to torture your taste buds like that?” I ask, and the boys laugh even harder.

I tilt my head to the side and smile at him as I embrace my inner psycho bitch. My look seems to unsettle him, and Faron’s laughter dies.

Am I really the result of some fucked up lamia breeding program?

I’ve been soldiering through, making the best of what I’ve been dealt, but this, all of it, it’s too much. I’ve reached my limit of shit I can deal with.

“Why is she covered in blood?” someone asks. “She was closer to her kills than we were,” a solemn voice answers.

Sabin gently takes Talon from my hands and places him with Laiken on her shelf.

Bawling like a baby right now Jesus Christ