Page 15 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

Lucien is a traitor. A cold-blooded, heartless traitor who abandoned me to my doom, which, in this case, is a very awake and very bored Luna Evernight.

He’d barely finished setting up camp before he took off into the night, probably off to brood in some shadowy corner like the tortured king of pride he is, leaving me alone with her.

And she’s back to herself. Snarky. Sharp. Unrelentingly playful.

The firelight flickers across her face, her eyes locked on me with an expectant glint, like she’s waiting for something.

I shift, feigning nonchalance. “What?”

She raises a brow. “Entertain me.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stretches out on the ground, arms behind her head like she’s settling in, fully prepared to be entertained. “Lucien’s gone, and I’m bored.”

I rub the back of my neck, panic simmering under my skin. This is my nightmare.

This is the opposite of what I need right now.

When Lucien is here, he absorbs her attention, makes her focus on him, keeps her from staring at me like I’m some kind of one-man circus act.

Now it’s just me.

And I don’t know what to do with her.

“You can, I don’t know, entertain yourself?” I suggest weakly. “You seem like a strong, independent woman.”

She smirks. “I am. That’s why I’m making you do it.”

My stomach twists in a way I do not want to acknowledge.

Think, Elias. Think.

I could play dead. Just flop over and let Sloth take the wheel, she wouldn’t mess with a corpse, right?

Wait. No, she absolutely would.

My throat bobs. “Fine,” I mutter, holding up a hand. “You wanna see something cool?”

She doesn’t move, just tilts her head slightly. “Depends.”

I flex my fingers, summoning the languid pull of my power, and with a slow, sweeping motion, I drag the weight of exhaustion through the air, pressing it into the space between us.

Her limbs go lax, her breathing slows, not enough to put her to sleep, just enough to make her floaty, the world around her hazy.

Her lips part slightly. “That’s… weird.”

I grin. “It gets weirder.”

I shift the power again, rippling it like waves lapping at the shore, sending gentle pulses of fatigue that roll through her in warm, lazy currents.

Her eyes flutter for a second before she shakes herself, sitting up abruptly.

“Okay, okay.” She points a finger at me, blinking away the fog. “That feels too good. Stop it.”

I laugh. “I thought you wanted to be entertained?”

“Not like that.” She scowls, shoving a hand through her hair. “It felt like…like I was melting.”

I waggle my fingers. “Sloth, baby. It’s what I do.”

She huffs, clearly trying to shake off the residual lethargy, and I swear I see her shiver.

Interesting.

She glares at me, and I know that look.

The one that says, You just made this a game.

She stares at me like I’ve just handed her a loaded gun and dared her to pull the trigger. I already hate whatever is about to come out of her mouth.

“Do it to the fire,” she says, her voice curled around amusement.

I blink. “The fire?”

She nods, lips twitching. “Yeah. Make it… sleepy.”

I scoff, shifting where I sit. “I don’t think fire sleeps, Moonbeam.”

She tilts her head, studying me like I’m an uncooperative experiment. “I don’t think you know that for sure.”

Gods. Why is she like this?

I exhale through my nose, glancing at the flames dancing in front of us. The campfire is bright, flickering with wild orange tongues, licking at the night air, hungry for more. Sparks crackle and snap, the wood hissing as it burns.

I roll my shoulders, stretching out my fingers before letting my power spill into the air. A ripple of slow, suffocating stillness rolls through the camp, sinking its claws into the flames. The fire stutters, its frantic hunger wilting under the weight of my gift.

The embers, once snapping and vicious, glowing, pulsing, but no longer burning with their desperate, unrelenting need to consume.

The flames bend, stretching in lethargic waves, their movements sluggish, as if they’re floating in some deep, intoxicating haze.

Smoke lazily curls upward, spiraling in slow-motion tendrils, as if the fire itself is sinking into a dream it can’t wake from.

Luna leans forward, eyes alight with something mischievous and delighted and slightly dangerous.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

I grin, basking in my magnificence. “Told you, baby. Sloth can do a lot more than just put people to sleep.”

She doesn’t even acknowledge my flawless delivery, just studies the fire like she’s thinking too hard, like she’s already plotting something ridiculous.

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t.”

Her gaze snaps to me, all innocent mischief. “Don’t what?”

“You’re planning something. I can hear it. Your brain is making that weird, crackly, bad-idea noise.”

She snorts. “That is not a thing.”

“It is.” I jab a finger toward her. “You have an idea, and I can promise it’s the worst thing to ever be conceived in the history of bad ideas. You probably want me to slothify a whole-ass forest next or something.”

Oh, fuck me.

She flips over onto her stomach too fast, too eager, her hair falling over her shoulders in a way that shouldn’t be distracting but absolutely is.

“Oh, come on,” she says, grinning up at me, eyes bright with amusement, her cheek resting on her folded arms. “A forest. Can you do it?”

I try not to look at the strip of bare skin her movement just exposed. I really, really try. But my idiot gaze does it anyway, dragging over the smooth curve of her lower back, where her shirt has ridden up just enough to make my life difficult.

There’s something deeply unfair about the way she looks right now.

Carefree. Gorgeous. Completely unaware that I’m malfunctioning like a broken machine.

I clear my throat. “What do I look like, Mother Nature?”

She hums, kicking her feet up behind her, swaying them just enough to be distracting. “More like a useless party trick.”

I scoff. “Party trick? Excuse me, but I just made fire take a nap. That’s some high-level bullshit.”

She grins. “Okay, Sloth God, I’m waiting.”

Gods. She’s so pretty when she smiles like that. Too pretty. It’s a problem.

I rub the back of my neck, trying to focus on anything other than how close she is, how the firelight dances across her skin, how my brain keeps short-circuiting in her presence.

“Yeah, well,” I mutter, “maybe I just don’t feel like putting a whole damn forest to sleep right now.”

She raises a brow. “Is that because you can’t?”

Oh, she’s baiting me now. And like a complete idiot, I take it.

I push up on my elbows, leaning in just enough to let my smirk curl at the edges. “Oh, I can, baby. I can make the entire world slow down if I want to.”

Her lips part slightly, just enough that my brain starts thinking things it shouldn’t be thinking.

And then, because the universe hates me, she shifts again, propping herself up on her elbows, her body just close enough to mine that I can feel her warmth against my skin.

And her shirt rides up further.

Fuck.

I see more than I should.

More than is safe for me right now.

I snap my gaze to the fire, anywhere but her, dragging a hand down my face like that’s going to somehow wipe away the overwhelming need to bolt into the woods and dunk myself in a freezing lake.

She just grins wider, eyes flashing with mischief and challenge and something else that makes my stomach twist.

“Well?” she says, voice dipping into something damn near sinful. “Do it, Elias. Show me.”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly too dry.

“Yeah,” I croak. “Uh… totally.”

I exhale slowly, flexing my fingers, letting my power unfurl like a languid stretch through the air.

The fire flickers, then freezes mid-flame, embers suspended midair like glowing shards of time itself.

The leaves stop rustling, frozen in mid-sway.

The wind? Gone. Even the distant sounds of the night, crickets, the snap of branches, the whisper of unseen creatures, all of it grinds to a silent halt.

Everything is still.

Everything except us.

Luna inhales sharply, her lips parting, her gaze sweeping over the unnatural stillness around us. Her breath is warm against my skin, and I make the very, very stupid decision to look at her.

Big mistake.

She’s too close. She’s always too close.

Her eyes, wide, burning with fascination, snap to mine, and I can feel it. That pull, that inescapable gravity dragging me toward her like I’m caught in the orbit of something I was never meant to touch.

She shifts, just enough that the hem of her shirt rides up a fraction more, exposing smooth, golden skin. The firelight, frozen in place, casts a soft glow over her face, making her look like something sacred, untouchable.

I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to hers.

"Happy now?" I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I mean for it to.

She doesn't answer. Just watches me. Watching her.

Then, because she’s an actual menace, she tilts her head slightly, considering me like she’s trying to figure me out, and drags her lower lip between her teeth.

I almost choke.

Fuck.

I want to blame Silas. Or Riven. Or the gods.

But the truth? The truth is I’m screwed. The weight of her gaze is too much, her presence too much, the unbearable pull between us too much.

Her fingers twitch against the ground like she wants to reach for me, but hasn’t quite decided if she should.

And then because I make terrible decisions, I move first. I shift forward, slow, deliberate, cutting the space between us in half.

Her breath hitches.

The embers floating in the air glow brighter.

She doesn’t pull away.

Neither do I.

The world is stuck in this perfect, impossible moment.

Her eyes drop to my mouth.

I drop my gaze to hers.

Then, because I’m an actual disaster of a man, I murmur, “Told you I could slow the world down, baby.”

And then I kiss her.

The second our mouths meet, the world tilts. It’s instant, electric, shattering, a sudden shift like the ground has dropped out from beneath me, and I’m free-falling straight into her.

I thought I was ready.

I wasn’t.

Luna doesn’t just kiss, she consumes. Her lips move against mine with raw, unfiltered intent, like she’s decided something, like she’s claiming something. And fuck, I feel it everywhere.

I don’t realize I’ve tipped backward until my shoulders hit the dirt. Luna follows, pressing into me, hands braced against my chest, her weight a brand I never want to lose.

My breath stutters, my hands gripping her hips on instinct, and I swear, she smirks against my mouth like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

Gods, she tastes like fire. Like midnight storms and something sweeter, more dangerous, something made to unravel me from the inside out.

Her fingers curl against my chest, her nails digging in, and I groan against her lips, the sound low, desperate, something I wasn’t ready to hear from myself.

She shifts, pressing closer, and my hands tighten on her waist.

I should have been smug, should have said something stupid, something to break the spell, but for the first time in forever, I have nothing. Nothing but her, and the way she’s kissing me like she’s already won.

She pulls back just enough to steal a breath, her lips brushing against mine, and I chase her like a fucking idiot, catching the curve of her bottom lip between my teeth before she can escape.

Her breath hitches.

And then?

She wrecks me. She kisses me deeper, fuller, her tongue sweeping against mine, and I swear to every god that’s ever cursed me, I will never be the same after this.

She tastes like sin. Like something I should run from.

So, of course, I pull her closer.

My hands move before I can think, skating beneath her shirt, fingers dragging over the warm skin of her back. Fuck. I’ve never touched anything like this before, smooth, hot, addictive.

I spread my palms, dragging her closer, pressing her against me until there’s nothing left between us but heat.

Her breath hitches, a quiet gasp against my mouth, and I smirk, nipping at her bottom lip, just to see if I can pull another one from her.

I can.

She arches, just slightly, pressing into my touch, and I swear my heart nearly stutters to a stop.

Gods, I want to ruin her.

Her fingers find their way into my hair, tugging just enough to make my breath catch, and it’s unfair because I was supposed to be the one making her fall apart.

She shifts again, her hips dragging against mine, slow and teasing, and I’m losing my mind.

I growl, flip her before she can push me any further into madness, and suddenly, she’s beneath me, sprawled in the dirt, lips swollen, eyes bright, a flush creeping down her throat.

She looks wrecked.

Because of me.

That realization nearly kills me.

Luna blinks up at me, surprised, maybe even amused, before she laughs, low, breathless, entirely too sinful.

And fuck, I’m gone.

I kiss her again, deeper, my hand sliding along the curve of her ribs, up to the slope of her back, learning every inch of her.

She makes a sound into my mouth, something soft, needy, intoxicating, and my fingers dig in.

“Elias,” she murmurs, breath warm against my lips.

I groan. Gods, my name sounds filthy coming from her.

I press her further into the dirt, chase the taste of her, let my hands wander, let myself drown in her.

Her hands skim my shoulders, drag over my chest, push into my hair again, pulling me closer, demanding more.

And I give it to her.

I give her everything.