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“Still desperate to beincluded,” I spit back. “You weren’t erased because you were too dangerous. You were erased because you were fucking exhausting. Andno one missed you.”

That hits. Just for a second. Something in his gaze sharpens, brittle behind the silk. Then it slides away behind that same grin.

“You’ll get used to me,” he says. “They always do.”

I plant a hand in the center of his chest, pushing him back. It’s like pressing against hot marble, lean muscle, sin-tempered and unnaturally still.

“No,” I say again. “We won’t.”

His eyes glint like he enjoys the rejection. Like itfeedshim. Then he turns, deliberately brushing past me, and keeps walking toward the house like he owns the deed to our damn lives.

I just stand there, fists shaking, chaos roiling under my skin. He thinks we’re going to let him in. But I’ve broken gods with less reason. And if he lays one wrong look on her, I’ll break this one too.

By the time I get to her, Luna’s pacing the kitchen like she’s mapping out a battlefield, each footfall precise, like she’s one breath away from throwing the island through the window.

“Hey.” I ease in like I’m approaching a feral creature with claws made of wrath and spite. “You, uh… want me to commit a felony? Because my calendar’s open and I still have a pair of untraceable gloves from that thing in Prague.”

She stops. Looks at me. That stare could unmake planets.

“Tell me you knew,” she says flatly.

“I didn’t.” I raise my hands, inch closer. “I swear. If I had, I would’ve booby-trapped the front door and buried a ‘Welcome to Hell’ sign in the garden.”

Her mouth tightens, and for a second, I think she might shove me through the refrigerator. I honestly wouldn’t blame her.

“I told Blackwell no,” she mutters. “I toldhimno. And yet somehow he’s still following me like some cursed stray cat in designer jeans.”

I nod solemnly. “He is very stray-cat-coded. All smug and needs to be neutered.”

That gets her. The faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. It’s not a smile, not even close, but it’s not that murderous line she walked in with.

I take the opportunity and slide onto the counter beside the sink, legs swinging like a kid who knows too much. “Look, babe. I know this whole divine-bonding prophecy redo thing is some next-level bullshit, but we’ve handled worse. Remember the time Lust tried to possess a senator, and you had to talk him down while naked in a cursed bathtub? This is just okay, this is slightly worse, but still. We’ve got precedent.”

She groans, scrubbing her hands over her face. “He followed me through the damn grocery store, Silas. The grocery store. Like I was something on sale.”

I clutch my chest. “And you didn’t pepper-spray him? Gods, Luna. That was your moment. You could’ve made headlines.Local Woman Mauls Excommunicated Sin in Produce Aisle.”

She lets out a shaky breath that’s too close to laughter.

Progress.

I hop off the counter and close the distance between us, touching her wrist lightly. She lets me. That alone is a miracle.

“I hate this,” she whispers. “I hate that he’s here. I hate that Blackwell thinks I’m just going to, what? Accept this? Bond with him like the rest?”

“You won’t,” I say it with teeth. “Not unlessyoudecide to. No one touches you unless it’s your choice. Not me, not Lucien, not ancient pretty-boy sin incarnate. Just you.”

Her throat works. Her eyes shine, not with tears, but fury. Restraint.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I.” I grin viciously. “But I do trust you. And that’s enough for now.”

She looks at me, and for the first time since she came through that door, something in her softens. Just a fraction.

“I’m still pissed.”

“Good. Stay pissed. Pissed looks hot on you.”