Page 87

"Isn’t it?" Malachi’s voice is mocking, all slow indulgence, like he’s savoring the words. "A Sin-Binder, tethered to the most powerful forces in existence. If he takes her, he takes you. All of you. And once he does…" He spreads his hands, like it’s already decided. "He unleashes you on the world."
I blink.
And then, I laugh.
Hard.
Malachi’s smirk flickers. "Something funny?"
I wave a hand, still laughing, my body shaking from the sheer audacity of it all. "Oh, I’m sorry, did you just say Severin is going to use Luna to control us?"
"Yes."
"All of us?"
"Yes."
I let out another helpless cackle, wiping a nonexistent tear from my eye. "That’s rich. That’s truly, " I shake my head. " Some of his best work yet."
Malachi watches me, his expression neutral, but I can see the flicker of something else beneath it. Doubt.
Because he knows.
He knows exactly why that plan is doomed before it even starts.
I lean forward, grinning, my elbows braced against my knees. "Couple of problems with that, dear brother." I hold up a finger. "One, Luna hasn’t even bonded to all of us yet."
Malachi’s eyes narrow slightly.
I hold up another finger. "Two, do you honestly think Lucien would let Severin lay a single fucking hand on her?" I laugh again. "Lucien, who shattered a creature from the Rift just for looking at her too long? That Lucien?"
Lucien isn’t a shield. He isn’t a protector. He isn’t some noble warrior defending a cause.
He is Pride. And Pride does not allow what belongs to it to be taken.
I hum, dragging a finger along the rim of my wine glass. "Severin could throw every last one of his wraiths at us, and it still wouldn’t be enough." I tilt my head, considering. "And even if, by some truly miraculous stroke of luck, he did get his hands on her?"
I lean in, voice soft, edged with sweet, poisonous amusement.
"She’d tear him apart before he could even draw breath."
Malachi doesn’t like that.
For all his smug, slithering arrogance, he knows the truth, Luna isn’t some helpless little thing waiting to be snatched up and used. She is a blade being sharpened. A fire growing into something that won’t just burn Severin’s plans to the ground, she’ll consume them.
And that means Malachi is wasting my time.
I sigh, exasperated, and rise from the chaise like I have all the time in the world. My movements are slow, fluid because I want him to watch. Want him to feel it, the shift.
Because I know what I look like when I stop pretending to be harmless.
I roll my shoulders as I stand, stretching out my fingers, feeling the magic coil beneath my skin like something starving.
Malachi doesn’t step back. He’s not stupid, but he’s arrogant. He knows better than to show his discomfort. So I decide to remind him why he should be afraid.
"You know, Mal," I murmur, tilting my head, "I think you forget sometimes."
He lifts a brow, masking his unease with thin amusement. "Forget what?"