Page 26 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

The void has shifted around us, reshaping itself into a labyrinth of jagged stone and unnatural shadows, like Severin is twisting the world beneath our feet just to remind us that we are still in his domain.

We make camp as far as we can from the prison that held Silas and Riven, but there is no real safety here. The Hollow doesn’t have shelter, only ruins, remnants of something ancient and long-devoured. The land itself pulses beneath my feet, as if it’s alive, as if it’s aware of us.

But none of that matters right now.

Because Layla is here. My sister. My blood. The piece of me I never expected to see again, standing in front of me like a ghost pulled straight from my past.

The others are busy securing the perimeter, pretending not to watch as I grab Layla’s wrist and pull her away from the group. I don’t care what they think. I need answers.

Layla tugs back, her familiar stubbornness flashing in her dark eyes. “You’re not just going to drag me off like some scolded child- ”

“You were supposed to be safe.” My voice is low, shaking with something I can’t contain. “You were supposed to be back at the house, away from all of this.”

Layla lets out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “And you were supposed to tell me what the hell was going on before I had to find out like this.”

I release her, fingers curling into fists at my sides.

“How was I supposed to explain this, Layla?” My throat tightens.

“What, you wanted me to call you and say, ‘Hey, turns out I’m bonded to a group of ancient, inescapable nightmares, and our family history is a fucking disaster, how’s your day going? ’”

She crosses her arms. “It would’ve been better than silence.”

My jaw clenches. I want to tell her she’s wrong. That nothing would have made this easier to hear. That no version of that conversation would have changed what she’s standing in now.

But she’s here. And nothing I say changes that.

I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “You don’t belong in this, Layla.”

Her expression hardens. “But I do, don’t I? The Sin-Binder’s blood runs through both of us. And you, ” she swallows, voice going quieter, almost hesitant, “you feel it, don’t you? The way I do.”

I didn’t want to acknowledge it before, but I can feel it now, something inside her that mirrors what’s inside me. A thread of power, thin but undeniable, humming in her bones like a second heartbeat. It’s not the same as mine, not exactly, but it’s close.

Too close.

I shift, the weight of it pressing against my ribs. “When did you start feeling it?”

Layla hesitates. “Not long after you left.” Her arms tighten around herself. “It started as dreams. Whispers. Then… it got stronger. Like something was waking up inside me.”

I stare at her.

Because I know that feeling.

I lived it.

The realization makes my stomach turn, makes my pulse thrum harder in my ears. If Layla has the Sin-Binder’s power, even just a fraction of it, Severin will want her.

And he won’t stop until he gets her.

I inhale sharply. “You should have stayed away.”

Layla’s gaze flickers with something unreadable. “And let you go through this alone?” She shakes her head. “I’m here now, Luna. Whatever this is, whatever’s coming, ” her voice steadies, “you’re not the only one carrying it anymore.”

I don’t know how to be someone who isn’t alone. I don’t know how to let someone else carry this. But Layla is here. And it changes everything.

She has this look. I know that look. It’s the same one she used to give me when I’d come home with bruised knuckles and a carefully curated list of lies. It’s her tell, when she wants answers but is waiting for me to hand them over first.

She’s never been patient.

“So,” she finally says, drawing out the word like she’s savoring it. “Are we going to talk about the fact that you’re sleeping with multiple guys, or are you going to pretend you don’t know what I’m asking?”

I roll my eyes. “Subtle.”

She shrugs, unapologetic. “I could be worse.”

“I doubt that.”

Layla smirks, but her gaze flicks back toward the camp. “Okay, so let’s start with the obvious. You’re with…” She trails off, waiting.

I don’t take the bait.

Her lips curve. “Fine, I’ll guess. That one.” She jerks her chin toward the two figures closest to the fire, Elias and Silas, who are, of course, arguing over something ridiculous. Silas, predictably, is using far too many hand gestures. Elias is just standing there, arms crossed, unimpressed.

I sigh. “Yes. And before you ask, both of them.”

Layla stops walking. “Both?”

I arch a brow. “You’re acting like you’re surprised.”

“I mean, I knew you had the energy for it, I just didn’t think you had the patience.” She whistles low. “So, which one’s better?”

I groan. “I am not- ”

“Fine, fine.” She lifts her hands in surrender, but her grin is sharp. “I’ll just assume it’s the one who looks like he’s about to commit a murder.”

That could be either of them.

I don’t bother clarifying.

Layla turns back toward the fire, watching as Silas’s frustration reaches a peak. He rakes a hand through his already-messy hair, then, Gods help me, he points finger guns at Elias.

Layla chokes on a laugh. “Oh, you’re actually sleeping with that one?”

I sigh. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Elias tilts his head, murmuring something low, dark amusement flickering in his silver eyes. Whatever it is, it makes Silas groan dramatically, throwing his arms up before he flops onto the nearest rock like he’s been personally victimized.

Layla hums. “You sure they’re not sleeping together?”

I glance at them. “Pretty sure.”

“Shame. That much bickering? Feels like unresolved sexual tension.”

Elias catches me watching and immediately smirks, winking. Layla snorts.

“Oh, I like him,” she mutters under her breath.

“You won’t when he opens his mouth.”

Right on cue, Elias pushes off the rock, sauntering toward us with his usual loose-limbed grace. “You two talking about me?”

Layla raises a brow. “Would you like it if we were?”

Elias places a hand over his heart. “Depends. Am I being praised for my devastating good looks?”

Layla considers him for a beat. “No.”

His smirk falters. “That feels like a personal attack.”

“Good.”

I press my lips together to hide my smile. Elias is never thrown off. Never caught without something sharp, something cutting, something insufferably cocky to throw back. But Layla? She doesn’t play by his rules.

Elias sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “Unbelievable. Betrayed in my own camp.”

Layla leans in, conspiratorial. “Do you think he knows this isn’t his camp?”

I exhale, shaking my head. “He definitely does not.”

Elias squints at us. “I feel like I should be insulted.”

Layla grins. “You should be.”

Before Elias can retaliate, Lucien calls his name from across the camp, voice clipped. Elias groans, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Great. My dad’s calling.”

Layla chokes on another laugh. “You have a death wish.”

Elias just grins. “Always.” Then he turns, swaggering back toward Lucien, undoubtedly about to make his mood even worse.

Layla watches him go, shaking her head. “I kind of love him.”

“You say that now.”

“Okay, okay.” She refocuses. “So that’s two. But there are more, right?”

My throat tightens.

Layla doesn’t miss it.

Her gaze sharpens. “Who?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I glance toward the far side of the camp, where Riven sits alone, sharpening a blade with slow, methodical precision. His dark hair falls into his eyes, and he makes no move to push it back.

Layla follows my gaze. “Oh.”

I exhale. “Yeah.”

She watches him for a long moment. “He’s different.”

I nod.

Layla hums, thoughtful. “And he’s…?”

I don’t look away. “Everything.”

She’s quiet for a beat, then sighs. “Fuck. I need more details.”

I smirk. “Too bad.”

Layla groans. “You’re the worst.”

I sigh. “You have no idea.”

Layla eyes me like she’s about to ask something dangerous. She’s been holding back for the past five minutes, but I know my sister. She doesn’t do patience well.

“So,” she starts, drawing out the word as she kicks a loose rock across the cracked earth. “Which one’s your favorite?”

I don’t slow my pace, don’t look at her, but I feel her smirk even without seeing it.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

Layla hums. “Am I?”

I glance at her, arching a brow. “You want me to pick one?”

She shrugs, but her curiosity is sharp. “Most people have favorites.”

I exhale, shaking my head. “That’s the thing, Layla. I don’t have to choose.”

She lets that sit for a second before grinning. “Damn. You really are living the dream.”

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. “It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” She gives me a look. “You’re with them. All of them. And they’re just… fine with it?”

I think about it. About the way Silas watches me like I’m his greatest mistake and his only salvation.

The way Riven moves around me, close but never caged, his silence heavier than any words.

The way Elias lingers at the edges, never serious until he is, never distant but always on the verge of running.

Lucien, watching, waiting, testing me without ever saying the words.

Orin, silent and ancient in his patience, knowing more than he lets on.

I shake my head. “It’s different. It just works.”

Layla scoffs. “Nothing about this looks like it should work.”

She’s right. It shouldn’t.

And yet.

“They know,” I say simply. “There are no lies. No jealousy. No games.”

Layla studies me, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re telling me none of them get possessive? Not even a little?”

I hesitate.

Because possessive isn’t the right word. They want me. Not in halves, not in pieces, but in full. And that’s the part that should terrify me. Because I know what they are, what they’ve been, what they could be.

And yet.

“No,” I answer, because it’s the only thing I can say. “They don’t get jealous.”

Layla shakes her head, but there’s something thoughtful in her gaze. “Must be nice.”