Page 27 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

I don’t respond, because what is there to say? I’ve never had to explain this before. I don’t know how to put into words the way it feels, like standing at the edge of something vast, something consuming, something I shouldn’t want but do.

Layla nudges me with her shoulder. “Still think you should pick a favorite.”

I smirk. “Not happening.”

She exhales dramatically. “Fine. But I reserve the right to judge them.”

I snort. “You already do.”

Layla grins. “And I intend to continue.”

The Rift is behind us. Severin’s prison is in ruins. My bound men are free. And yet, when I glance at Riven, he won’t look at me. It’s like I don’t exist. Like the bond pulling tight in my ribs isn’t real.

Silas, on the other hand, seems completely unbothered, his usual slouch in place, his gaze sharp but detached, as if none of this is worth a second thought. As if the chains that once held him were nothing but an inconvenience, easily shrugged off.

Perhaps that’s all I am to them.

It’s not like they chose this. The binding wasn’t some grand declaration, no sacred promise. It wasn’t even something I understood before it happened. And yet, I feel it, the undeniable thread pulling me to them, the weight of it settling deep in my bones.

But I don’t know if they feel it.

Not really.

And if they do, they don’t care.

I might as well be a rock for all the notice Riven is giving me. And Silas? He’s already moved on, like the moment has passed, like nothing about this matters.

Instead, he’s focused on Elias, who is currently standing opposite him, hands shoved deep in his pockets, both middle fingers displayed like some crude offering to the gods of bad decisions.

Silas rolls his shoulders, shifting his weight from foot to foot, fists clenching and unclenching like he’s just waiting for an excuse.

I exhale sharply. “Seriously?”

Neither of them acknowledges me.

Elias tilts his head, smirk lazy, but I see the sharp glint behind it, the way his silver eyes track every shift of Silas’s body. “What’s the matter, princess?” His voice is pure mockery. “Not happy to see me?”

Silas’s answering grin is all teeth. “You know, I thought I missed you.” He cracks his knuckles. “Turns out, I was wrong.”

Elias’s smirk doesn’t falter. “You sure? Because I’m feeling a lot of emotions coming from your general direction.” He taps his temple. “Did Severin mess with your little head? Or are you just mad that you missed my pretty face?”

Silas takes a step forward, but Elias doesn’t move.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “If you two are about to throw punches after being locked in a hell-prison, I swear to the gods- ”

Silas doesn’t take his eyes off Elias. “Oh, I’m throwing punches.”

Elias grins. “Good. I was worried you went soft in there.”

“Fuck around and find out.”

Elias lifts his brows. “Oh, Silas, you’re making me blush.”

Silas swings.

Elias dodges, twisting just enough to let the fist graze past him before stepping back with a flourish, like this is all some game to him. He exhales dramatically, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re so violent. It’s honestly kind of hot.”

Silas lunges again.

I sigh, crossing my arms as I watch them circle each other like rabid animals, fists twitching, insults flying.

Layla walks up beside me, watching with mild interest. “Is this, like, a sex thing for them?”

I groan. “No. But thanks for putting that in my head.”

Layla hums. “I mean, it would explain a lot.”

I don’t dignify that with a response. Silas lands a hit, not hard, just enough to jostle Elias back a step. Elias stumbles, blinks, then tilts his head like he’s considering something.

Then, in the single worst moment of my life, he winks and says, “Daddy.”

Silas freezes. So do I. Layla, bless her soul, chokes on air.

There’s a beat of absolute silence, Elias staring at Silas with his usual shit-eating grin, Silas standing there like his entire brain has short-circuited, and me, contemplating whether I should just walk into the Rift and be done with it.

Silas slowly lowers his fists.

Elias grins wider. “So, fight’s over?”

Silas rubs a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that I’m pretty sure is a prayer for patience.

Layla elbows me. “I take it back. That’s definitely a sex thing.”

I groan.

Elias turns to me, smug as hell. “See, Luna? This is why you keep me around.”

I shake my head. “You’re lucky I do.”

Elias slings an arm over my shoulders, grinning like an idiot. “Admit it, you’d be lost without me.”

I roll my eyes. “Elias.”

“Yes, beloved?”

I shove him off. He laughs, shoving his hands back into his pockets as Silas stalks past him, muttering under his breath.

And when I glance at Riven again, He’s watching me. For the first time since we got out. But the second our eyes meet, he looks away. And somehow, that cuts deeper than anything.

Silas stalks away from the group, shoulders tight, hands shoved into his pockets like he’s trying to hold something in. Or hold something back.

I don’t think. I move.

Because I did worry about him. Because I did miss him. Because even if he’s acting like none of this matters, I know him better than that.

The camp fades behind me as I catch up, falling into step beside him. He doesn’t look at me, but I see the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers flex before curling into fists.

I nudge him with my shoulder. “You done being dramatic?”

His mouth twitches, but he keeps his gaze forward. “You say that like I was the one putting on a show.”

I arch a brow. “So what do you call that pissing contest back there?”

“Necessary.”

I snort. “Right. You needed to threaten Elias after not seeing him for two weeks?”

Silas exhales through his nose. “He deserved it.”

“For what?”

He shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “For existing.”

I sigh. “You are exhausting.”

“Mm,” he hums. “And yet, here you are.”

I shove my hands into my pockets, mirroring his posture, matching his stride. “So are you gonna talk to me, or are we just going to walk around pretending I didn’t just chase after you like some desperate idiot?”

Silas glances at me then, just for a second, something sharp and unreadable flashing behind his dark eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, something real, but instead, he smirks.

“Desperate?” he echoes. “Luna, if you wanted me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

I groan. “Gods, I regret everything.”

His smirk deepens. “No, you don’t.”

I glare at him, but it’s useless. He’s enjoying this too much. I should turn around, leave him to his mood, let him have whatever space he thinks he needs.

But I don’t. Because there’s something underneath it, something he’s not saying. And I refuse to let him bury it.

I step in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Silas.”

His smirk falters. Just a little.

I swallow, lowering my voice. “Are you okay?”

For a second, he does nothing. Just looks at me, mouth parted like he wasn’t expecting the question. Then he exhales, tilting his head back, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I don’t know.”

It’s the closest thing to honesty I’ve gotten from him all night.

I take a breath, steadying myself before stepping closer. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him.

He watches me, wary.

“I meant it, you know,” I say quietly. “I worried about you.”

Silas’s throat bobs. He looks away. “I know.”

I don’t ask if he missed me, too. I don’t have to. Because his hands twitch at his sides, and when I move, just a fraction, he doesn’t pull away.