Page 3 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

Luna walks beside me, her pulse a steady rhythm in the air, but something about her is…

shifting. I don’t have to look to know she’s reaching out again, testing the frayed bonds between her and the ones we lost. I can feel it, the subtle pulse of magic stretching thin between worlds.

It’s weak, barely more than a whisper, but it’s there.

She is adapting.

Faster than she should be. Faster than any Sin-Binder before her.

And that is the problem.

I keep my gaze fixed ahead, but my thoughts slip backward, unraveling into things I have not let myself dwell on in centuries.

She doesn’t know what she is yet. Not really. Not the depth of what she has inherited. We have always been here. Not just since the Academy. Not just since the kingdoms that rose and fell like tides. Not just since the first whispers of civilization clawed their way into existence.

Before the first mortal city was carved from stone. Before men knew how to name the things they desired.

We were before.

The Original Sins.

We did not belong to any one world. We moved between them as we pleased, untethered, unburdened. We were not created to serve or be ruled, we simply were. A force as natural as hunger, as inevitable as death.

Humans were never meant to survive us.

They were meant to fall into us.

And they did. They indulged, they craved, they raged, they became us. And the world unmade itself in our wake, over and over, because that is what happens when mortals are given no restraints. No guiding hand. No balance.

They would have destroyed themselves entirely. Until something saw what we were doing and decided it had to end. The first Sin-Binder.

A woman, woven from something incorruptible. Designed to be a force of balance, an anchor to bind us to the world without letting us destroy it. She was meant to be pure. Untouched by greed, by indulgence, by wrath, by us.

And at first, she was.

The first of her kind was everything she was intended to be. An unshakable hand, a force of will as strong as the magic that held us to her. We fought against her. Raged against her. But she never took more than she needed. Never wielded us selfishly.

But that was the exception.

Not the rule.

The others who followed her were not so pure. They were human. And humans are flawed. Some grew addicted to the power they were never meant to have. Some wielded us against one another, playing games with forces they barely understood. Some took and took and took until the balance was destroyed.

And then, they were destroyed.

The force that created them did not allow corruption.

It cleansed. It wiped them from existence as easily as the tide erases footprints in the sand. One after another, burned from history, reduced to nothing. And every time a Binder fell, another was made in her place.

For thousands of years, the cycle continued.

Sin and balance. Chaos and order. Over and over.

Until we arrived here.

Until her.

I don’t know what will happen to her. I don’t know if she is meant to be different. But I know what happens when a Sin-Binder fails. And I will not let history repeat itself.

Not this time.

Not with her.

I exhale slowly, pushing the thoughts away, forcing myself back into the present.

The Hollow is shifting again, the landscape distorting at the edges. It is reacting to her, to us, sensing the imbalance we bring into it. We need to move quickly.

Luna must feel it too, because she speaks without looking at me. “We’re getting closer.”

I glance at her, at the way she’s still feeling for the bond, still grasping at that connection. The part of me that has spent millennia surviving through caution wants to tell her to stop. That she is reaching into things she does not understand. That she is opening doors that cannot be closed.

But another part of me, one I have never listened to, wants to let her keep reaching. Because I need to know what she is. I need to know if she is the last. Or if she is just another in a line of inevitable failures.

I keep my voice steady. “Then lead us.”

She closes her eyes, breathes deep, and steps forward.

She moves ahead of us, her stride unwavering, the sharp cut of her silhouette illuminated in the Hollow’s unnatural half-light.

She moves with the kind of quiet certainty that wasn’t there before.

She’s trusting something, the bond, maybe, or some instinct that neither of us can feel the way she does.

Which means I should be focused on the path she’s leading us down. On the shifting terrain, the way the Hollow keeps warping just beyond the edges of my vision. On the weight of power in the air, coiling like an unseen threat beneath our feet.

But I’m not.

Because Elias is watching her. Not in a careful way. Not in a way that’s concerned. He’s watching her like a man who enjoys the view.

His head tilts slightly, gaze drifting downward, lips parting just enough to let out a slow, quiet hum of appreciation. He doesn’t bother hiding it. He never does. But it’s the kind of look that says he isn’t just admiring, he’s imagining.

Something sharp flickers in my chest. Something that isn’t new, but is still just as unwelcome.

I don’t mean to follow his gaze.

I shouldn’t.

But I do.

And fuck, she moves differently now. More deliberate.

More aware of herself, even if she doesn’t realize it.

The sway of her hips is subtle, not exaggerated, but enough to hold attention.

Enough to make my jaw tighten as I take in the shape of her.

The dip of her waist, the curve just below it, the way her fitted clothes stretch with each step, her body a study in defiant elegance.

Elias exhales, a low, knowing chuckle. “I knew you’d look.”

My gaze snaps to him, sharp as a blade. “Shut up.”

He grins, slow and pleased. “You always look.”

I don’t respond, because anything I say will be wrong.

Elias tilts his head, silver eyes glinting with amusement. “You ever wonder if she knows?”

I don’t dignify that with an answer either.

Luna still doesn’t understand what she is to us. What she could be. She’s only just beginning to grasp the weight of the bond, the way it threads through all of us, dragging her deeper into something she won’t escape.

But she doesn’t feel it the way we do. She isn’t Sin. She doesn’t know what it means to want the way we do. To crave with no limits. No morality. No restraint.

If she did, she would never have turned her back on us. Not in a place like this. Not when there are two of us watching.

Elias smirks, the picture of lazy amusement. “You should tell her.”

I exhale slowly, leveling him with a look. “And you should stop talking before I rip your throat out.”

He grins wider. “Ah, there it is.”

I force my gaze back to the path ahead, locking down whatever unwelcome thing had started unraveling in my chest. We have more important things to deal with. This is irrelevant.

But as Luna takes another step forward, unaware of the way we’re still watching, still wanting, I can’t help but think of one simple, inevitable truth.

She’ll have to understand it eventually. Because no matter how much she tries to fight it, the bond isn’t done with her yet. And neither are we.

She curses under her breath, sharp and irritated, the sound barely cutting through the thick, unnatural quiet of the Hollow.

I glance over just in time to see her stumble, catching herself with a sharp inhale, and for a moment, just a breath of a second, something surges in me that I don’t have time to analyze.

She doesn’t fall. She doesn’t even waver long enough for me to reach for her. But she reacts. And it’s that raw, instinctual flash of something in her face, the quick exhale, the clench of her jaw, that keeps me watching.

She stops moving, exhaling sharply as she mutters, “Fucking shoelace.”

I watch as she crouches, one knee bending, the other stretching forward, her hand moving to tug at the offending lace.

And fuck me.

Elias whistles under his breath, low and appreciative. “That’s a sight.”

Luna pulls the laces tight, fingers deft, movements quick and efficient. But it’s the position, the sharp angle of her bent knee, the way the fabric of her pants pulls snug around her thigh, the way her spine curves ever so slightly, that makes something tighten deep in my gut.

She’s close enough that if I reached forward, just a fraction, I could grip her by the hip and drag her back. She’d fit against me too easily, her body already shaped into something that shouldn’t be this tempting.

Something I should not be fucking thinking about.

Elias makes a quiet sound beside me, more exhale than a laugh, shifting his weight like this is amusing him like, he knows.

I clear my throat, voice perfectly even. “Are you done?”

Luna, completely unaware of the problem she’s just created, pulls the last loop tight, glancing up at me as she rises to her feet. Her expression is annoyed, irritated at the interruption, but I catch the flicker of something else, something tired, something strained.

Something that reminds me why we’re here. Why she is here. The moment snaps. The spell shatters. I exhale, dragging my attention back to the road ahead, my thoughts settling into something cold, something hard.

“Try to keep up, Evernight,” I murmur, forcing the words into something distant.

She rolls her eyes. “Try to get a better personality, Virelius.”

Elias snickers. “Gods, I love her.”

I don’t look at him.

And I don’t look at her again. Because if I do, I might not stop.

The ground vibrates beneath my boots, a deep, rolling tremor that slithers up my spine before settling in my ribs. Not natural. Not distant. Coming straight for us.

Elias stills beside me, tilting his head like he’s listening to something the rest of us can’t hear yet. A slow grin spreads across his face, all teeth, all wicked amusement. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”

The first sound reaches us a breath later, thunder, except not from the sky. A relentless, rolling percussion pounding against the fractured land, growing louder, closer, more hungry.

Luna tenses. “What the hell is that?”

The shadows in the distance shift. And then, they emerge.

A stampede of blackened, half-rotted creatures surging forward, skeletal frames twisting beneath charred flesh, hooves striking the earth with impossible force.

Their eyes burn, hollow sockets filled with a sickly, white-blue glow.

Some are missing patches of skin, ribs visible, bodies held together by something more than just decay.

The Hollow’s creatures. Not alive. Not dead. Just remnants.

Elias exhales. “Fucking wraith horses.”

Luna turns to him sharply. “That’s an actual thing?”

He gestures at the oncoming horror. “You tell me.”

I don’t waste breath on explanations. There’s no time.

We need to move.

Elias must think the same, because he steps forward, cracking his neck with a lazy roll of his shoulders. “Don’t say I never do anything for you,” he mutters before lifting a single hand.

And the world slows.

It’s not immediate. It’s a drag, like something resisting, like the Hollow itself is reluctant to obey even him. But then the air thickens, not literally, not in the way lesser minds would describe, but in a way that means something is wrong.

The stampede stretches in front of us, hooves frozen mid-strike, manes whipping in unnatural slow-motion, their distorted cries dragged into something unearthly.

Elias exhales, turning back to us with a smirk. “I give us thirty seconds. Make it count.”

Luna, to her credit, barely hesitates. “And by make it count, you mean?”

I gesture at the wraith horses. “Transportation.”

She stares at me. Then at the undead fucking creatures. Then back at me.

“No.”

I don’t dignify that with a response.

She crosses her arms. “I am not getting on one of those things.”

Elias laughs. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re adorable if you think you have options.”

Luna glares. “I’ll run.”

“You won’t,” I correct. “Because we don’t have time for you to be stubborn.”

Her jaw tightens, but I can already see the war happening behind her eyes. The logic is fighting her absolute refusal to comply. The spark of rebellion igniting, the same one that’s been getting under my skin since the moment I met her.

I don’t have time for it now.

“Elias,” I say smoothly, turning to him, “she’s riding with you.”

His amusement vanishes.

“What?”

I level him with a look. “You’re the only one who can keep her from falling off.”

Elias scowls. “That sounds like a you problem, leader.”

“It’s about to be your problem.”

Luna scoffs. “I don’t need a babysiter.”

I ignore her, stepping toward Elias, lowering my voice just enough. “Keep her on the damn horse, Elias.”

Elias exhales, rubbing his jaw. “You know I don’t like people touching me, right?”

I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Then make an exception.”

His silver eyes flick to Luna, assessing, considering. Then, begrudgingly, he mutters, “Fucking hate this.”

“Noted.”

The air around us shifts, the edges of Elias’s slow-time magic fraying, unraveling. The wraith horses twitch, muscles preparing to move again.

I move first, grabbing a handful of mane and swinging onto the back of the nearest creature.

The sensation is strange the body beneath me not flesh, not bone, but something suspended in between, something given form by the Hollow itself.

It shudders beneath my weight, an unnatural thing bound by unnatural rules.

Elias follows, his approach less urgent, more casual disdain. He swings up onto his mount, then looks at Luna expectantly. “Up you go, little star.”

She hesitates.

A half-second too long.

Elias grabs her.

She makes a sound, pissed off, indignant, but Elias just hauls her onto the horse in front of him like it’s nothing, like she weighs less than breath, settling her between his arms with a low exhale.

Luna stiffens immediately. “I hate this.”

Elias hums, a smirk curling against her ear. “Yeah?” He leans in slightly, just enough to make her aware of the heat between them. “Then you’re gonna hate the next part.”

The Hollow snaps back into motion. And we ride.