Page 12 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

Layla stares at the door like it might save her. Like if she wills it hard enough, it will fly open, and she’ll be able to sprint through it and escape from everything I just told her. The denial is instant, visceral, crashing over her like a wave.

“No,” she says, shaking her head hard, like she’s trying to rattle the truth out of existence. “Nope. Absolutely not. That’s insane.”

I watch her calmly, letting her fight against the inevitable, letting her reject it the way I knew she would.

Because denial is natural. It’s expected. And, in this case, it’s entirely justified. But it won’t change anything.

Layla pivots sharply, pointing at me with accusation in her eyes. “You don’t just show up at someone’s house, tell them they’re some kind of supernatural leash for a bunch of demons, and expect them to just, just go with it.”

I raise a brow. “No?”

Her mouth falls open, incredulous. “No!”

I exhale, slow and measured. “Would you prefer I hadn’t told you? That I’d left you here, ignorant, while the world collapses around you?”

She flinches, her lips pressing into a thin line.

But I can see it, the way doubt flickers in her gaze, the way she wants to argue but can’t quite form the words.

Because somewhere, deep down, she knows.

Maybe not the details, maybe not the depth of it, but something in her has always known she wasn’t meant for an ordinary life.

I lean forward slightly, studying her. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” I say, voice low, edged with certainty. “Why you feel different. Why you’ve never quite fit. Why your sister was taken, but you were left behind.”

Layla’s breath shudders.

I don’t stop.

“You think it was an accident? That the Academy only wanted Luna?” I let my head tilt slightly. “They didn’t take you because they didn’t know what you were. Because none of us did. But now…”

I let the weight of my words settle between us.

“Now, we do.”

She wraps her arms around herself, a defensive posture, but it’s not anger anymore, it’s uncertainty.

That’s good.

That’s very good.

Because doubt is the first step to acceptance.

I exhale, softer this time. “You’re afraid.”

She lifts her chin. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Layla exhales sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. “Even if you’re right, even if this is real, I don’t want it.” Her voice is tight, her hands curling into fists. “I don’t want to be part of whatever nightmare you’ve dragged my sister into.”

That makes me smile. Wide. Amused. Deeply entertained. Because this, this is exactly why she’s perfect for Severin. Her defiance. Her rage at the idea of being controlled, of being forced into a role she didn’t choose.

Because that’s exactly who Severin is, too. A man who refuses the cage he was born into.

And I wonder, how would he handle her? How would he react to a girl just as unyielding as he is?

Would he hate her? Would he want to break her? Or would he, in his own twisted, wretched way, understand her?

I lean back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap, watching her with something close to satisfaction.

“You might be the only person who could ever contain him,” I murmur.

Layla’s jaw clenches.

Her voice, when it comes, is hoarse, full of something wretched and breaking.

“I don’t want to contain anyone.”

I hum, thoughtful. “Neither did your sister.”

She freezes.

And I know, without a doubt, I’ve won.

I watch Layla as she processes, as the weight of what I’ve told her settles in her bones.

She doesn’t speak right away. She’s too sharp for that, too calculating, and I can see it, the way she cycles through her options, searching for a way out. She won’t find one. Not unless she wants to ignore what she already knows.

“You need to understand something,” I say, voice even. “This won’t be like it was for Luna.”

Layla’s head snaps up, her glare sharp, defensive. “And what the hell does that mean?”

I study her, deliberate. “It means Severin is not Lucien. It means his Sins are not like us.”

She laughs, short and bitter. “Yeah, I think I figured that out from the whole they kidnapped my sister’s bonded lovers and are probably torturing them right now thing.”

I nod, conceding the point. “But it’s deeper than that.”

Layla watches me warily, arms still crossed tightly over her chest, as if she can physically hold herself together.

Good.

She needs to be guarded.

Because the truth is ugly.

I lean forward slightly, voice dropping. “Severin was once like us. A Sin, powerful, unrestricted, free. But when the first Sin-Binder was created, when our kind was forced into bonds we did not choose, he did not accept it.”

Layla’s brow furrows. “And you did?”

I tilt my head. “We were given balance. Purpose. Do you know what happens to an unbound Sin?”

I see the unease in her eyes. The hesitation, the way she knows the answer will be something she doesn’t want to hear.

“We consume,” I murmur. “Everything. The world was not built to sustain us in our true form. Without balance, without a Binder to temper us, we spiral into excess. Wrath, unchecked, does not just destroy enemies, it destroys everything.”

Layla swallows hard, but I don’t let her look away.

“Severin fought against that. He refused to be bound, refused to give his power to another.” I pause. “But a Sin that refuses balance doesn’t gain freedom, Layla. It loses itself.”

Her lips part, something flickering behind her gaze.

I nod. “That is what you will be walking into. You won’t have the luxury of time, of slow, careful trust-building the way Luna has with us. If you are his Binder, if he recognizes your bond, he will feel what we feel for Luna, he will be unable to harm you. But that does not mean he will not try.”

Layla bristles, straightening. “That’s supposed to make me want to do this?”

I let a slow, knowing smile unfurl. “It’s supposed to make you understand that if you don’t, no one else will.”

Her jaw tightens, the fight visible in the rigid set of her shoulders, in the way her fingers twitch like she wants to strike me, shove me away, curse me out.

“What happens if I fail?”

I don’t lie to her. I don’t soften the words.

“The world burns.”

Layla exhales, shaky, uneven, but she doesn’t argue. Because there is no argument to be made. She presses her hands to her temples, eyes shutting briefly, before she sighs, long and exhausted.

“What do I need to do?”

I let the satisfaction curl through me, slow and deep. Because she is perfect for this. For him. And she doesn’t even know it yet. She stops suddenly, turning to me with an expression caught between anger and wariness, suspicion darkening her features.

“Why now?” she demands. “Why is all of this happening now? Why not years ago? Why not before Luna was taken?” Her gaze sharpens, and I can see the quick, calculating mind behind her eyes, the gears turning. “Why did no one come for me before?”

A fair question.

And one I knew would come.

I take my time answering, watching her closely. “Because no one knew.”

Layla scoffs. “That’s convenient.”

I shake my head. “It’s the truth. Sin-Binders are not chosen, Layla. They are born, and their power remains dormant until the right catalyst forces it awake.”

Her brows pull together. “A catalyst?”

I nod. “For Luna, it was Daemon Academy. The bond with us. Being forced into our world.”

Her lips press into a thin, unsettled line. “And what’s mine?”

“Severin,” I say simply.

The name lands like a curse between us.

She stills, visibly recoiling at the weight of it, at what it means.

I continue. “Something changed in the Void. Something woke the Sub-Sins from the depths of their exile, and when Severin made his first move, it sent ripples through the fabric of our existence.” I gesture to her. “And through you.”

Layla’s throat bobs as she swallows, shifting uncomfortably. “So you’re telling me that if none of this had happened, if Severin had just stayed in his creepy little murder dimension, I would’ve just lived a normal life?”

I tilt my head slightly. “You would have lived a contained life.”

Her brows knit together. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means your power would have remained buried,” I explain. “Dormant. Unawakened. You would have continued living, but always with something inside you that felt... off. Like you were missing something vital. Like a hunger you could never quite satisfy.”

Her arms tighten around herself. Because she recognizes it. The gnawing absence, the quiet, persistent wrongness that has been with her since childhood.

I nod, watching understanding settle in her features, slow and unwilling. “Severin changed that. The moment he surfaced, the moment he began making his way back into this world, your power responded.”

Layla shakes her head, but there’s no conviction behind it now, only a slow-building resignation.

“If this is true,” she murmurs, “if this is fate or whatever, then why do I feel like it’s some kind of sick joke?”

A dark, humorless smile curves my lips.

“Because it is.”

Layla’s expression shifts, not quite fear, but something close to it. She’s realizing how deep this goes. How much of her life, of her future, is being rewritten right in front of her. And she doesn’t have a say in it.

Not really.

I exhale slowly, making sure my voice stays even. Patient. Controlled.

“Luna is in the Void right now.”

Layla’s breath catches.

I nod. “She’s going after two of her bonded.”

Her brow furrows. “Bonded,” she echoes, the word foreign on her tongue.

I don’t bother softening it. “Silas and Riven. Severin took them.”

Something sharpens in her expression, something visceral and protective, and I wonder if she even realizes she’s reacting like that.

Her sister, no matter how estranged, still means something to her.

I keep going. “Lucien and the others are with her. They’ll fight to get them back. They’ll do whatever it takes.” A beat. “But Severin isn’t just a man, Layla. He’s not a creature you can reason with, not a villain you can simply defeat.”

She watches me carefully, waiting.

I give her the truth.

“He is war itself,” I say softly. “A hurricane wrapped in flesh. You do not kill a hurricane, Layla. You survive it. And the only way to survive him is to contain him.”

Her mouth presses into a thin line. She doesn’t want to ask, but I see the words forming anyway.

Why me?

I don’t wait for her to say it.

“You may not be able to.”

That throws her off. I watch her blink, as if expecting me to say the opposite.

“If you are his Binder, you will know the moment you step through the Void.” My voice stays calm, measured. “You will feel him. The same way Luna felt us.”

Layla swallows, her throat working.

I let the weight of that sink in before I add, “You won’t just feel him. You’ll feel all seven of them.”

Her breath stutters. “There are- ”

“Seven,” I confirm. “Just like us. Twisted versions of what we were before we were bound. They were left to rot in the Void, and they have not forgiven that.”

She takes a step back, as if distance will sever the reality of what I’m saying.

But it won’t.

Nothing will.

“You’re telling me,” she says slowly, “that you want me to walk into a dimension of exiled, rage-fueled, power-hungry demons just to, what? See if I’m their new keeper?”

I nod once.

She lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“That’s debatable,” I muse. “But you are coming with me.”