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Pride's eyebrows shot up while I sputtered in mortification. "That is absolutely not—I never?—"

"They're messing with you," Sloth interjected, taking pity on me. "The bonds don't work like that. Yet, anyway."

I glared at Envy and Pride, who looked completely unrepentant. "You're both on my list now."

"Promises, promises," Envy purred.

"I should go," I said, standing before they could tease me further. "Thanks for the meditation lesson, Sloth. It really helped."

"Anytime," he replied, sincerity beneath his casual tone. "The garden's always open."

As I turned to leave, Lust called after me: "Good luck with Gluttony tonight!”

I flipped him off without looking back, their laughter following me down the garden path. Despite my embarrassment, I found myself smiling. There was something comforting about their teasing. It felt like acceptance, like belonging.

I lingered at the garden's edge for a moment, grounding myself in the familiar comfort of growing things. On impulse, I reached down and plucked a sprig of lemon balm, rolling it between my fingers and bringing it to my nose. The bright, citrusy scent cleared my head, a small reminder of who I was before all this. A gardener, someone who understood that patience often yielded the sweetest rewards. I had truly believed that even for my ex and that turned out to be completely false. But perhaps, it wasn’t such a bad thing. Being with the sins was already proving to be a life I’m happier with than it would have been with him.

Taking a deep breath, I tucked the herb behind my ear and started toward the kitchen. My stomach tightened with each step closer to the manor, memories of my previous encounters withGluttony flashing through my mind—his panicked retreat when we were supposed to complete the ritual, the aftermath when my magick had thrown him against the wall. Of all the Sins, our relationship was the most fractured, a hairline crack that threatened the integrity of whatever we were building together.

But maybe that's how healing began. Not with grand gestures, but with small moments. A conversation over simmering pots. A shared appreciation for the alchemy of cooking. An herb from the garden and an open mind.

I squared my shoulders as I approached the kitchen door, the rich aromas of garlic and rosemary enveloping me. This wouldn't be easy. Nothing worth having ever was. But it was a necessary first step. And after my time with Sloth in the garden, I felt steadier, more centered for the attempt.

Whatever waited beyond that door, at least I was going in as myself.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

WRATH

The kitchen was warm and golden, the kind of warmth that came from roasted garlic, real butter, and something simmering low and slow on the stove. I stepped in barefoot, drawn more by the scent than intention. Something told me I wasn’t supposed to be here. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was the way the air thickened slightly the moment I crossed the threshold.

Gluttony stood at the stove, large and still, like a sculpture of war carved from restraint. He didn’t look up when I entered, but I felt the shift. He knew I was there. Every molecule in the room knew I was there.

“Smells incredible,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

Still, he didn’t look at me.

“Braised lamb. Rosemary. Garlic. White wine reduction. You need protein. You burned too hot, too fast back at the cabin.”

I stepped closer, the hem of my oversized sweater brushing my knees. “You’ve been watching me?”

“I’ve been responsible for keeping you alive,” he replied, his voice flat. “Subtle difference.”

I let the jab slide, mostly because I knew it was armor.

“You could’ve fooled me with all the brooding silence and disappearing acts.”

That earned me a look over his shoulder. Just a flicker, but there was heat behind it. Not anger. Hunger.

“You’re not subtle,” he said at last. “But you are...effective.”

“Wow,” I deadpanned. “Put that on a Valentine’s card.”

Gluttony finally turned, a spoon in one hand, sauce clinging to the curve of it. “What do you want, Wrath?”

“To talk. And maybe steal a taste.” I nodded at the pan.