Page 22 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

"Gray?" he repeats, like I just accused him of something deeply insulting. "Did you just say gray?"

I shrug. "It’s gray."

"It is not gray." His voice drops into something dangerously close to pouting. "It’s silver."

"Gray, silver." I wave a hand weakly. "Same thing."

"No, no, no, no." He shakes his head, utterly appalled. "Gray is what happens when you get old and bitter and your life is empty. Silver is rare. Silver is distinguished. Silver is a statement."

I blink at him. "So you’re saying it’s just expensive gray?"

Elias gasps like I stabbed him.

"Luna." He places a dramatic hand over his chest. "That might be the cruelest thing you’ve ever said to me."

"I’m sure it’s not."

"No, this is it. This is rock bottom." He exhales sharply, as if deeply wounded. "Do you have any idea how much effort goes into this? This, " He gestures vaguely at his head, "this is intentional. It’s art. It’s iconic."

"It’s gray."

"I hope Severin wins."

I snort. "You wouldn’t last five minutes without me."

"Wrong," he says smoothly. "I’d last exactly four and a half."

I shake my head, letting my eyes drift shut again, still slumped against him. "Whatever you say."

He groans, full of pain. "That’s it. You’ve lost speaking privileges."

"Mm." I exhale against his neck. "I’m too tired to speak anyway."

"Good," Elias mutters. "You don’t deserve words."

I made a mistake.

A huge mistake.

Because I let the words slip.

And now Elias is fixating.

"Wait, wait, wait, " He tightens his grip on the reins, guiding the horse into a steadier rhythm, but his entire focus is on me. "Say that again."

I sigh, my head still tucked against his shoulder. "No."

"Luna."

"Elias."

"You just said you like me."

"I didn’t."

"You did."

"You’re hallucinating."

"I wish I were," he breathes, as if overcome by the revelation. "Because this is too much power for me to handle right now."

I roll my eyes, shifting slightly in his hold. "You are-"

"No, no, let’s break this down properly." He angles his head toward me, a grin curling at his lips. "Like... like how?"

"What?"

"Like, like a friend? Like a trusted ally?" He pauses. "Or, " his voice drops into something far too pleased with itself, " Llike, like like?"

"Absolutely not."

"Interesting. No hesitation." He hums thoughtfully. "But would you say you like me in the same way you like, say… a particularly well-trained dog?"

"Elias."

"Or, let’s say, a stray cat that occasionally brings you dead birds? Appreciated, but vaguely off-putting?"

I sigh deeply. "Why do I even talk to you?"

"Because you like me," he says smugly. "Your words, not mine."

"I take it back."

"Too late. It’s out there. The universe heard it. I heard it. Lucien probably felt a disturbance in the force."

"Lucien doesn’t care about you."

"Incorrect." Elias grins. "Lucien cares about me deeply, he just expresses it through aggressive silence and thinly veiled threats."

"So basically the way he expresses everything?"

"Exactly."

I exhale, shaking my head. "Gods. I hate that you’re fun to talk to sometimes."

Elias gasps.

"Luna Evernight, did you just call me fun?"

"I should have let the Void consume you."

"But you didn’t, he points out. "Because you like me."

I close my eyes. "I regret everything."

"No take-backsies, sweetheart." He shifts his grip, keeping me steady, warm, and close, and I can feel his grin against my temple.

He spent a full ten minutes needling me over the fact that I admitted to liking him, picking apart every possible interpretation, delighting in my suffering, truly thriving in my discomfort.

But now?

Nothing.

The absence of his voice is more unsettling than his usual obnoxious banter.

I shift slightly in the saddle, lifting my head from where I’d been resting against his shoulder. "Elias?"

No response.

I pull back just enough to glance up at him, half-expecting to find him grinning, ready to unleash some final, unbearable joke.

But instead, he looks… pensive.

And maybe even, oh no.

Maybe even a little nervous.

I stare. "Did you die?"

"No." His voice is strangely tight.

"Then what - "

"So anyway," he blurts, "I also like you."

I blink.

"What?"

Elias exhales too hard, like he’s just gotten something off his chest, like he’s been suffering in silence for an unreasonable amount of time.

"You heard me," he mutters, his grip tightening slightly on the reins. "I like you. Like, like like you. Not in a ‘oh, Luna’s cool, I’d help her bury a body’ kind of way, although I would, because I’m an excellent friend, but like, in a ‘I think about you way too much and it’s ruining my life’ kind of way. "

I stare at him.

He refuses to look at me.

"Elias. "

"And I wasn’t going to say anything," he barrels forward, as if he just keeps talking, he can drown out his own words.

"Because, you know, I didn’t want to make things weird.

But then you said you liked me, and then my brain just, " He makes a vague exploding motion with his fingers. " imploded. Like, oh gods, what if she does like me? What do I do with that? Am I ready for that? Probably not, because I’m a mess, and you’re terrifyingly attractive in a ‘I might stab you if you annoy me’ kind of way, which is so my type, by the way, but also really inconvenient because … "

"Elias. "

"What if I do something stupid? Which, let’s be honest, is extremely likely. Very high probability. I say dumb shit around you constantly. My success rate for being cool is abysmally low. "

"Elias."

He finally stops.

I squint at him. "Did you just word-vomit your feelings at me?"

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Gods, I did, didn’t I?"

"Oh yeah." I tilt my head. "It was incredibly painful to witness."

"Fantastic." He sighs, staring straight ahead like he can pretend this isn’t happening. "So, uh… any chance you’ll just forget that happened?"

"Absolutely not."

"Yeah, figured."

I study him for a long moment, the way his grip on the reins is just a little too tight, the way his silver, not gray, hair is a mess from where I’d been pressed against him, the way his jaw is tense, like he’s waiting for me to make this worse.

So I do.

"Elias," I murmur, leaning in just slightly. "Are you blushing?"

"No."

He is.

And I’m never letting him live this down.