Page 68 of The Sin Binders Ascent

“She’s ours,” Silas says under his breath, not looking away from Theo.

“She’s hers first,” Orin replies, and that’s enough to shut even Silas up for a moment. “We don’t help her by hovering. We don’t protect her by treating her like she can’t see through his shit.”

Theo raises a brow, voice slick. “This your version of a pep talk?”

Orin’s eyes cut to him like they’ve razored through kings. “No. This is me reminding them that you’re not worth what we’ll lose if we handle this wrong.”

My mouth tastes like ash. Because he’s right. And I fucking hate it.

Silas finally shifts his arm off Luna’s shoulders with a dramatic sigh. She doesn’t look at him. She’s staring at her wrist, at the chain that links her to a man she hates, and maybe, just maybe, doesn’t hate enough.

I glance at Theo, who’s still lounging like the weight of the universe hasn’t cracked his smug posture yet, and I want to punch the look off his face.

But Orin is watching. And if we make this about us and not about her?

We lose.

Worse, we lose her.

Silas groans the second I grab him by the hood of his sweatshirt and yank him off the steps like a sulking toddler being evicted from a candy store. His coffee sloshes as he stumbles up, arms flailing like I’ve just ruined the climax of his emotional support drama.

“Dude,” he whines, dragging his feet with exaggerated effort. “I waswarmingher.”

“You were draping yourself over her like a grief blanket,” I mutter, half-dragging him toward the gravel path that loops around the side of the house. “Get off before the chain snaps and we all die in an erotic, slow-motion tether accident.”

He trips on a loose stone and catches himself with a flair of unnecessary movement. “Maybe that’s how Iwantto go. Tethered to the chaos. Ripped apart mid-orgasm.”

“You’ve never even made it tomid, and you know it.”

Silas barks a laugh, finally moving on his own beside me, kicking pebbles like they insulted his birthright. We round the edge of the garden, cutting away from Luna and Theo and the sun-drenched moment that’s about to become another wound for everyone. I can feel Orin’s gaze linger on our backs as we disappear out of sight, like he’s making sure we leave and don’t double back like misbehaving spirits.

“Why the hell do I have to be the one to back off?” Silas grumbles, voice pitched just low enough to keep the words from carrying. “He gets to sit there, being fate-fucked and chained to her, and I’m the problem for bringing her a goddamn blanket?”

“You didn’t bring her a blanket, you brought heryourself, Silas,” I reply, tone flat. “Wrapped in desperation and that cologne that smells like citrus orgies.”

He scowls. “It’s orange bergamot.”

“It’s crime against noses.”

We pass the wrought-iron fence that marks the edge of the upper gardens. Riven’s additions from a decade ago, all controlled violence in steel and creeping ivy. There’s an old stone bench beside the fountain, long since overtaken by moss and late-summer vines. I drop onto it with a groan, the weight of no-sleep and too-much-theo pressing down on me.

Silas flops dramatically beside me like his spine’s made of regret. “I don’t like this.”

“No one does.”

“She’s ours.”

I glance sideways. His voice wasn’t whiny that time. It was quiet. Hurt, even.

“She is,” I say. “But she’s also not just ours. And that’s what makes this afuckingnightmare.”

He doesn’t respond right away, just sits there, fiddling with the edge of his hoodie sleeve like he wants to unravel the whole damn thing. The wind picks up, dragging the scent of lavender and burning wards from the northern edge of the grounds, where Lucien’s barriers still hum like warning lines.

“I don’t like the way he looks at her,” Silas finally mutters. “Like he’s already written us out.”

“That’s because he has,” I say. “That’s what he does, right? Desire. He makes you forget logic and loyalty. He makes you want something so bad you’ll burn down every person who stood by you just to get it.”

Silas looks at me. “You afraid she’ll fall for that?”