Page 7 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

The fortress is older than time itself. Not in the way the mortal world measures age, not in years, not in centuries.

No, this place predates history. It was carved from the bones of something long forgotten, a relic of a war that no longer has a name.

The stone walls aren’t just black; they’re void, absorbing what little light dares to touch them.

The architecture is jagged, shifting, a labyrinth of impossible angles that make the fortress feel alive, like it’s constantly rearranging itself.

And in the center of it, buried deep, past the layers of ruin and rot, is me.

I’ve been in cages before. I’ve been shackled. Bound. Torn apart and put back together again.

But this? This is different.

The room they keep me in is a chamber of old magic. The kind that sinks into the marrow, poisons the blood. The walls drip with something alive, not liquid, not smoke, but something between the two, a substance that moves like it’s watching, waiting.

Chains bite into my wrists, my ankles, my throat.

Not steel, not iron, but something far worse.

Something carved from the bones of fallen gods, inscribed with runes that hum against my skin.

I can feel them burrowing beneath my flesh, slithering through my veins like parasites, anchoring me to this place.

Severin is smart. He knows what I am. Knows what Wrath does, how pain doesn’t break me, doesn’t weaken me. It feeds me. Makes me stronger. So he doesn’t deny me pain.

He drowns me in it.

The cuffs at my wrists burn constantly, sending pulses of agony through my arms, like fire licking against my bones.

The chains across my chest constrict every few minutes, crushing my ribs just enough to bruise, to snap, before letting go only to do it again.

My body heals, only to be shattered over and over, an endless cycle of agony that never gives me long enough to use it.

A gift that never gets unwrapped. My lips curl. Clever fucking bastard.

A slow drip echoes from somewhere in the darkness, the only sound in this damned place. The air is damp, thick with the metallic tang of blood mine, mostly, but not entirely. There were others here before me. I can smell them in the stone, in the floor, in the walls that do not forget.

Severin built this place for a reason: to break us and to unmake the things that refuse to die. I grin, my lips splitting from the movement, the dried blood on my mouth cracking. He's going to have to try harder.

Luna is coming for me. I feel her like a storm on the horizon, the bond stretching taut, pulling at something deep in my chest. A sharp tug at first, a flicker of presence, and then a surge, a pulse of raw, untamed power that doesn’t belong to me, that shouldn’t be here.

Fuck. She’s close. Too close. A growl rattles low in my throat, my wrists straining against the cuffs, the ancient runes burning deeper into my skin as if they can sense the shift. My body stills, instinct sharpening, mind roaring at me to do something, to warn her away.

Severin has been playing with his food. Drawing this out. But if he gets his hands on her?

It won’t be a game anymore. I clench my jaw, shoving the thought down before it can take root. Lucien wouldn’t have brought her here if he had a choice.

He knows the risks. Knows what Severin is. So if she’s here, it’s because they don’t have a better option. I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders, ignoring the sharp bite of chains.

Fine.

But she’s not ready for this. She doesn’t know how to shield herself yet, how to pull the bond back, how to mute the pain before it drowns her in it.

Right now, every lash of agony through my body is hitting hers, too, dragging her under, forcing her to feel every strike, every snap of bone, every raw, brutal reminder that I am not winning this fight.

And if she doesn’t learn how to block it soon, she’s going to be useless by the time they get here.

Which means I have two problems. One, I have to stay alive long enough for them to get here.

Two, I have to figure out how to shove her out of my goddamn pain before it wrecks her.

I breathe in, slow and steady, letting the agony settle in my bones, letting it be what it is.

And then, through the bond, I reach for her.

Not to pull her closer. To push her away.

The pain doesn't stop. It never does. It cycles through me like a living thing, dragging claws down my spine, burrowing into my ribs, coiling behind my eyes like it owns me. But I don't fight it. I don’t beg. I don’t scream.

I wait.

Because pain isn't the worst thing Severin could do to me. Because she is searching. Reaching. And it makes something dark slither through my gut, something closer to panic than I want to admit.

I grit my teeth, pressing my head back against the stone behind me. Silas. That thought is easier to focus on. Where the fuck is he? Severin is playing with us. Separating us. Waiting to see who folds first. But I don’t fold. I never fucking break.

The door creaks open, the sound deep and unsettling, as if the fortress itself is recoiling.

Then he steps through. Severin moves as if the world belongs to him, as if the very air should yield to his presence.

His aura fills the room, a slow, creeping sensation that seeps into the cracks of the stone and into the marrow of my bones.

He was always a beautiful bastard, sharp-cut features, high cheekbones, a mouth that never learned kindness. But it’s his eyes that ruin him. Silver, like Elias’s, but without the mirth, without the humor. Just cold calculation. And right now, they’re focused entirely on me.

A sneer tugs at his lips. “Still breathing.”

I grin, slow and sharp. Blood drips from the corner of my mouth, but I lick it away, tilting my head. “Disappointed?”

He exhales through his nose, stepping further inside. The shadows in the room shift with him, moving like they want to crawl closer.

“Not yet,” he muses, rolling his shoulders, eyes flicking lazily down the length of me, taking in the chains, the bruises, the way my body still fights to repair itself beneath the magic keeping me bound. “But we’ll get there.”

I chuckle, the sound low, ruined. “You sure about that?”

His sneer deepens.

And then, pain. The chains tighten, constricting around my ribs like a vice, the cuffs at my wrists burning hotter, their ancient runes slicing deep, raw agony spreading through every nerve in my body.

I wrench against them, jaw locking as my spine arches, as the magic digs deeper, siphoning the very thing that makes me what I am.

Severin watches, head tilting slightly, like he’s curious. Like he’s learning. And I know, fuck, I know, he’s enjoying this. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of a scream.

I let out a laugh, a guttural, broken sound that escapes my throat like smoke.

His gaze darkens, and in that moment, I realize this isn’t just about hurting me.

He’s waiting for something. I grind my teeth, forcing my breath to steady.

I ignore the way the magic eats into my flesh, how my power strains to fight back, to consume, to burn.

Severin sighs, shaking his head. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

I smirk, grinning through the agony. “That’s my specialty.”

His jaw tightens. For the first time, I see it, the flicker of something just beneath his skin. Frustration.

So I press.

Lean in as much as my bindings allow, voice dropping. “What’s wrong? Not getting what you want?”

The chains snap tight. I groan, the sound nearly slipping into a snarl, but I refuse to let it break. Severin steps closer until he’s just inches from where I’m bound, his gaze cutting into me like a scalpel.

“I don’t need you to talk,” he murmurs, voice calm, almost thoughtful. “I just need you to suffer.”

I grin, breathless. “Then you’ll be waiting a long time.”

His smile is slow and cruel. “Not as long as you think.”

He tilts his head slightly, as if he’s listening and sensing something. My blood runs cold because I know exactly what he’s just realized—Luna. I can see the moment he understands that she’s coming. A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face.

“She’s coming, isn’t she, Riven?” His voice is soft, thoughtful, like he’s rolling the words over his tongue just to taste them. “For you?”

I keep my expression blank, ignoring the burn of the chains, the raw ache in my ribs. I won’t give him a reaction. I won’t give him anything.

He chuckles, low and dark. “How sweet.” He takes a step closer, watching me like I’m something amusing. “How reckless.”

I don’t flinch. Don’t let him see the way my blood thrums beneath my skin. Because I already know where this is going. I already know what he’s going to say next. And he doesn’t disappoint.

“I wonder,” he murmurs, “if she’ll bring my brother with her.”

I only grin, bloodstained and sharp. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Severin hums, circling me now, slow and calculated. “You think you’re shielding them.” His voice is almost sympathetic, as if he finds the idea quaint. “But I already know how this ends.”

He stops beside me, close enough that I can feel the unnatural cold rolling off him.

“She’ll come for you,” he says simply. “And I’ll take her from you. Just like I took the last one.”

The chains tighten.

The runes burn hotter.

And still, I laugh. Low and dark and wrecked, my head tilting just enough to meet his gaze.

“Then you should be afraid,” I rasp. “Because if you touch her,” I grin, leaning in, letting my voice drop into something lethal. “I will tear you apart.”

Severin just smiles. Like he’s waiting for me to try. Severin thinks he holds the power here.

But right now, right in this moment, his confidence is a fragile, breakable thing. And I’m going to shatter it.

I tilt my head back against the stone, let my mouth curl into something slow, something vicious. “You really should have killed me when you had the chance.”

Severin raises a brow, unimpressed. “Should I have?”

I hum, letting the chains bite into my wrists as I stretch against them. The magic burns, but I barely feel it. “Mmm. Because now you don’t just have to worry about us coming for you.” I pause, dragging out the next words, letting them settle like poison. “You have to worry about her.”

Severin’s expression doesn’t change. But I’ve been around long enough to know him. I catch the slight shift in his stance, the subtle tightening of his jaw.

“Her?” he repeats, bored.

I grin. “The one who’s going to bind you.”

A slow silence unspools between us.

Then Severin laughs. I let him. Because he won’t be laughing for long.

“There hasn’t been a Sin-Binder for the Sub-Sins in the last thousand years,” he drawls, rolling his shoulders. “You expect me to believe another one has miraculously appeared?”

I shrug. “Believe whatever you want.”

His silver gaze sharpens. “If such a thing existed, I’d already know.”

“Would you?” I cock my head, my smirk widening. “Because she knows exactly where to find you.” I lower my voice, letting the words slip out slowly, like I’m savoring them. “And she’s coming, Severin. For you. For all of you.”

A flicker of something flashes through his eyes. Doubt. Not much. Not enough. But just enough to feed on. I push deeper.

“What’s it going to feel like?” I muse. “When she binds you? When you’re leashed again, reduced to nothing more than a weapon for someone else to wield?”

Severin’s sneer is instant. “No one commands me.”

I chuckle. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing,” I rattle the chains for effect, grinning up at him, “You already look pretty fucking controlled.”

His eyes darken.

The temperature shifts.

I lean in, voice dropping to a whisper. “What’s it going to feel like, Severin?” I murmur, a blade hidden in the softness. “Having a girl control you?”

For the first time since I’ve been in this damned place, Severin looks furious.