Page 14 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

The ride has been silent for too long. And it’s not like her.

Elias, usually a one-man disaster, is at a loss, his jokes falling flat, his nervous energy shifting into something more fidgety, uneasy. He keeps glancing at me over his shoulder like I’m supposed to fix this.

Like I could. Like I would.

Luna sits behind him, her arms loose around his waist, her cheek resting against his back, but she’s not there. Not really. Her eyes aren’t on the landscape shifting around us, on the endless gloom of the Void, on the distant ruins and jagged remnants of a world undone.

She’s looking at nothing.

Elias lets out a dramatic, suffering sigh, like the weight of her silence is physically harming him.

"This is unnatural," he mutters. "This is some kind of eldritch horror shit. I can feel my soul shriveling under the weight of it. Lucien, say something before I fucking die."

I don’t. Because I know what he wants. I know what she needs. And comfort isn’t it.

Elias isn’t used to her like this. He thinks words will pull her back, that a well-timed quip will drag her out of whatever storm is raging inside her.

But I know better.

I know that silence isn’t weakness. It’s coiling, waiting, sharpening into something deadly.

Still, Elias is losing it. He twists in the saddle, awkwardly trying to look at her over his shoulder. "Moonbeam, blink twice if you’re planning to kill us all in our sleep. Just so I can prepare emotionally."

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

"Blink once if you already have."

Still nothing.

Elias stiffens. "Lucien, she’s broken. You need to- "

"She’s not broken," I cut in, voice even. "She’s thinking."

And I see it now, the way she’s thinking. The way her hands flex, the slow rise and fall of her breath, the way her eyes don’t flicker but burn, dark and deep and pulling in every fragment of the world around her like she’s cataloging it for later destruction.

I almost smirk.

"You’re planning something," I say, watching her carefully. "Aren’t you?"

Elias goes rigid. "Wait, what? Planning what? I live here, I would like to be informed of any upcoming death or dismemberment, "

Luna doesn’t answer, but her fingers tighten at Elias’s waist, just enough to make him choke.

He yelps.

"Okay, okay, fuck, I’m sorry I talked."

I don’t let him finish.

Because Luna finally moves. She lifts her head, her gaze slow, heavy, sharp as a knife dragged over stone. And she looks at me. Right at me. Not Elias. Not the Void.

Me.

And I know. I fucking know. The moment she meets my eyes, the moment something dark, raw, inevitable coils in her chest and reaches for the same thing inside me.

I know.

I see it in the way her fingers flex at Elias’s waist. The way she finally, finally lifts her head, her gaze burning through the void like it’s something tangible, something she’s measuring. Weighing.

Elias exhales through his nose. "I don’t know how to handle this, man. She’s too quiet. It’s unnatural. This is witchcraft. "

But she cuts him off.

"How many came before me?"

Elias stiffens.

And I do, too.

Not because I didn’t expect the question, she was always going to ask. But because she asks it now, in a way that suggests she’s already been thinking about it. That she’s been waiting to bring it up.

Her voice is steady, but there’s something beneath it. A sharp edge. A quiet, coiled heat.

Elias, useless as ever, makes a mangled choking noise. "Oh. Well. Uh. I mean- "

I shoot him a look that promises suffering, and he instantly pretends to find something deeply fascinating in the distance.

Luna doesn’t look at him, though. She looks at me. So I give her the only thing I can.

The truth.

"There have been twelve before you."

Something flickers in her eyes, too quick to decipher. She absorbs it, digests it, and then:

"How many of you bound to them?"

I inhale slowly. "Not all of us. Not ever."

She nods once, like she expected that answer. But it doesn’t stop her from continuing.

"So who?"

I let the names roll through my mind, piecing them together with the lives that have come and gone.

Elias, predictably, tries to deflect.

"Do we need to talk about this right now? Like, on the way to battle? Can’t we wait until after we’ve all survived? I feel like this is jinxing it. "

Luna ignores him.

Her gaze doesn’t waver.

Neither does mine.

I exhale, measured and slow.

"Caspian has bound the most, seven times."

Her brow arches slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt.

I continue.

"Orin, six. I've bound to five. Elias and Riven, three. And Ambrose and Silas?"

I pause.

"Never."

That gets her.

She blinks, something shifting in her expression. "Silas has never bonded to a Sin Binder?"

"Not once."

She’s quiet for a moment, considering that.

Then she speaks, slower now. "And why never all of you?"

It’s a fair question. A smart one. And it demands an answer I don’t quite have.

"There’s no rule," I say eventually. "No law written in the Void that says we can’t. It’s… instinct, mostly. The bond is primal, drawn to what balances us, strengthens us. Sometimes that’s one of us. Sometimes it’s more. Sometimes- "

I hesitate.

Luna doesn’t let me stop.

"Sometimes it’s none of you."

It’s not a question.

I nod. "Sometimes, yes."

Her lips press together, her fingers curling against Elias’s side like she’s testing something.

And then, quietly, like she doesn’t want me to hear it.

"But not with me."

The words land, threading something thick and undeniable into the moment. Because she’s right. Not with her. Never with her.

I say nothing, but I see the way she registers my silence. The way her fingers twitch. The way she breathes in, slow and sharp, like she’s tasting something she hasn’t yet named.

Elias, bless his tragic existence, chooses that moment to speak.

"So, uh. Just to clarify. Caspian is the town whore, and Silas is the tragic virgin?"

Luna smirks. And just like that, the moment breaks.

I shouldn’t be the one having this conversation with her.

Orin would have been better suited, patient, methodical, able to sift through the weight of what she’s asking without letting it become a burden. But she isn’t asking him.

She’s asking me.

And worse?

She’s expecting an answer.

I watch her carefully, the way she sits straight-backed on Elias’s horse, her hands resting lightly at his sides. But there’s nothing light about the way she waits, the way her words linger in the air between us, curling, twisting, biting.

"Why even bother?"

She had asked it so simply, as if it were nothing more than idle curiosity. But I know better.

She’s testing something.

"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.

I should push her. It should force her to speak.

But something in me hesitates.

Instead, I say, “We’ll be there soon.”

She nods, just once. But it’s enough.

I watch the way her fingers flex against Elias’s side, the way her head rests against his back like it’s natural, like it’s something she’s done a hundred times before. But she hasn’t.

Not with Elias. Not with any of us. It’s tender, a word I don’t associate with her. With us.

She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

Elias, for once, doesn’t make a joke. He just rests his hand over hers, fingers curling against the back of her knuckles. Protective. Grounding. And then he looks at me.

A quiet look. A rare moment of understanding from the one who never takes anything seriously.

I should say something. Should stop watching.

Instead, I think about Maeve. I had bound myself to five before her. But only her did I love.

Or at least, I thought I did. Looking at Luna now, something itches under my skin.

Maeve had been beautiful, strong, the longest-standing Sin Binder before Luna. I had been her first bond, but only after a year of resisting. I had convinced myself it was my choice, that I had stepped into it on my own terms.

That it had been love because I had willed it into existence.

But Luna, this is different. Faster. Messier. Unavoidable.

It is out of my hands, and I don’t like that.

Elias sighs, his voice a low murmur. “She’s exhausted.”

I nod, but I don’t stop watching.

He doesn’t remove his hand from her leg.

And she doesn’t pull away.