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"If it’s not going to happen, if I’m just going to end up like all the others, why should I even try?"
Pride is an insidious thing, a living force that burrows deep, shaping a man’s every instinct. And I am its master, its sovereign, its heir. But right now, my pride is grating against something else, something sharp and unfamiliar, something I don’t want to name.
I exhale through my nose.
"You’re the only Sin Binder to bond two of us in a month."
She scoffs immediately, her mouth curling in a humorless smirk. "Like they had a choice."
I ignore the bitterness in her tone.
"Choice or not, it’s unheard of." My voice is steady, absolute. "And with each binding, the pull will only grow stronger."
Her eyes narrow slightly. "Meaning?"
I lean forward, letting the truth settle between us.
"Meaning that the more of us you bind, the harder it will be for the rest of us to resist."
She doesn’t speak right away. But I can see the thoughts running through her mind, the pieces clicking into place.
"But no Sin Binder has ever had all seven."
I hold her gaze.
"No."
She exhales sharply, shaking her head. "So then, what? I bond to two, three, maybe four of you before I die? What’s the point of any of it?"
Her words are bitter, but beneath them is something else, something raw and aching, something that grates against my pride like broken glass. I should tell her that it’s her duty, that it’s what she was born to do, that it doesn’t matter whether she wants it or not.
"We don’t know what will happen. It’s never come close to this before."
She blinks, thrown by the honesty. I don’t blame her. Neither of us is used to it.
I watch her, the way her shoulders square like she’s bracing for impact, the way her fingers tighten around Elias’s waist as if holding herself together.
She doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see how close she is to changing everything. To binding Elias. To binding Orin. She’s done more in weeks than any Sin Binder has done in centuries.
But I won’t tell her that. I won’t tell her how dangerous it is, how dangerously close we all are to something irreversible.
Elias doesn’t seem to notice the weight in the air. Or maybe he does and he’s doing what he does best, pretending not to care.
“You know, I always figured if I ever got a girl to hold onto me this tight, there’d be less existential dread involved.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a forced casualness.
She doesn’t respond.
Elias exhales dramatically. “I mean, I get it. I’m a lot to handle. Devastatingly attractive, wildly talented, ”
She still doesn’t say anything.
He shifts under her grip. “Luna.”
Nothing.
He twists in the saddle, looking at me over his shoulder. “Okay, now I’m scared. She hasn’t insulted me once. Say something to her before I start thinking she’s dead.”
I focus on her, the way she stares ahead at nothing, her expression unreadable.