Page 7 of The Sin Binder’s Destiny (The Seven Sins Academy #5)

I should have knocked. Honestly, that’s on me. But in my defense, I thought the guys were outside. There’s usually shouting, stomping, or Silas crashing into something to alert me to their existence. And considering this house barely holds the weight of us, there are exactly two bathrooms. No running water. No privacy.

Which is why, when I push open the door without thinking, I walk straight into a scene I can’t unsee.

Orin stands in the middle of the tiny bathtub, half-bent, one hand tipping a chipped metal bucket over his head. Water sluices down his back in slow, lazy rivulets, clinging to the ridges of muscle I had absolutely no idea existed under all those layers of worn shirts and quiet restraint.

He’s all sharp lines and solid weight. His calves alone could crush a person’s dignity. His back is broad, scarred in places like maps to battles no one’s told me about. His ass—

Gods help me, his ass is perfect.

And he’s naked.

Completely, unapologetically naked.

I freeze like an idiot, mouth parted, brain utterly void of anything resembling language. There might be actual drool threatening at the corner of my mouth.

Orin glances over his shoulder, unbothered, like he’s been expecting me all morning. There’s not even a flicker of surprise on his face as he arches one brow, voice maddeningly casual. “Did you need something?”

My lips part. My tongue tries to move.

All I manage is, “Abs.”

It falls out like I’ve never spoken before. Like I’ve forgotten how.

His mouth twitches, slow and deliberate, a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. He turns fully then, shameless, water dripping from his jaw down the line of his chest, not a single inch of him in a hurry to cover up.

“Do you like them?” he asks, voice velvet-smooth, like we’re discussing books or weather instead of me openly staring at his naked body.

My stomach dips violently. My heart is somewhere between my teeth.

I swallow, throat dry. “They’re… fine.”

His smile sharpens, all teeth and understanding. “Fine?”

“Average,” I breathe, and I’m already backing toward the door, heat licking up the back of my neck, too aware of the fact that I haven’t looked away once. “Completely forgettable.”

He takes a deliberate step toward me, still dripping, still impossibly composed. “Not what your eyes are saying, little star.”

I nearly trip over my own feet as I retreat, fumbling for the handle behind me without breaking eye contact—because of course I can’t.

His mouth tips into something dangerous, devastating.

“You’re always welcome to look longer,” Orin says quietly, voice too smooth, too certain. “I intend to make sure you do.”

And then I’m stumbling out the door, slamming it shut behind me, heart galloping like a sinner who just caught a glimpse of the devil himself. One second, I’m standing there staring at him like a woman who’s forgotten her own name, the next I’m bolting—barefoot, heartbeat trying to punch through my ribs, breath snagging in my throat.

“Abs,” I mutter under my breath, shoving past the half-rotted door and down the uneven front steps. “Abs. One word. That’s what I said. Like a feral little gremlin.”

The early morning air is sharp and cool, the faint scent of damp stone and wood smoke clinging to everything in this gods-forsaken village. I ignore it. I ignore the fact that I’m still half-dressed, that I’ve barely slept, that I can still see Orin’s stupidly sculpted back every time I blink.

My cheeks are on fire. I can’t stop replaying it—how casual he’d been, how he hadn’t even tried to cover himself, like it wasn’t anything at all that I’d walked in on him naked. I curse under my breath and pick up speed, making it halfway down the narrow road before I almost barrel into Silas.

He’s perched on the low wall outside the baker’s, shoving something sticky and sugared into his mouth. His hair’s a mess, green tips catching the weak sunlight, and his grin stretches slow and wolfish when he spots me.

“Hey, gorgeous—why’re you running like your sins are catching up to you?”

I don’t slow down. I dart past him, voice sharp. “Shut up, Silas.”

He hops down from the wall, clearly too intrigued to leave me alone, jogging a few steps to fall in beside me. “What’d you do now?”

I shake my head, cheeks still burning. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” He leans in, voice dropping conspiratorial. “You’re running like you set the house on fire.”

“Worse,” I mutter.

Silas throws his head back, groaning. “, baby, what did you do?”

I grind my teeth, finally slowing at the edge of the square, the chatter of villagers filling the air like a buzz. “I walked in on Orin.”

Silas’s brows lift, mouth curling into something dangerous. “Oh?”

“In the bath.”

His grin splits wide. “Naked Orin? Our quiet, scary scholar?”

I groan, dragging both hands over my face. “I said abs.”

Silas blinks at me. “You said what?”

“One word. I just stood there and—gods—said abs.”

Silas bursts out laughing, loud and unrepentant. A few villagers glance over warily, but he doesn’t care, slinging an arm around my shoulders like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“You,” he wheezes, “are fucking precious.”

“I’m going to die,” I mumble into my hands.

“You’re gonna die,” Silas agrees, squeezing my shoulder. “But not today. Today you get to live with the knowledge that you ogled Orin naked and couldn’t form a sentence.”

I glare at him, but it’s useless. He’s already plotting.

“You know,” he adds casually, voice dropping low, “he probably liked it.”

That shuts me up, heat crawling down my spine, because that’s the problem.

He did.

I drag both hands down my face like that'll wipe the mortification clean off me. It doesn’t. My skin still feels too hot, too flushed, like I’ve been set on fire from the inside out.

"I looked like an idiot, Silas," I mutter, shooting him a look, even though he’s still grinning at me like I’ve handed him the best entertainment he’s had in months. "I stood there like an absolute moron while he stood there naked—naked, Silas—and he was all casual about it."

Silas is eating this up, smiling so wide it looks like it hurts. "I mean," he drawls, nudging me with his elbow, "to be fair, you did say ‘abs.’ Which is iconic. And honestly, if I were Orin, I’d frame that moment and hang it above my bed."

I groan, shoving him. "You're not helping."

"You don’t want me to help," he grins, "You want me to make it worse."

And before I can argue, there’s a familiar voice behind us, far too smug.

"What’s she mortified about now?" Elias’s voice cuts through, dark amusement laced sharp beneath it.

I glance over my shoulder, knowing this is about to get worse. Of course he’s here. Of course.

Silas grins wickedly, looping an arm around my shoulders. "Our girl walked in on Orin in the bath. Got an eyeful. Couldn’t handle it."

Elias’s brows shoot up, his whole face lighting up like he’s just been handed a gift. "No," he breathes. "Tell me you didn’t."

I glare at both of them, shoulders tight. "It wasn’t on purpose."

Elias whistles low, rocking back on his heels. "How bad was it?"

Silas laughs, answering before I can. "She said one word."

Elias’s grin sharpens. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Silas leans in close, smug as hell. "Abs."

Elias freezes, then howls, clutching his stomach. "Abs? That’s all you managed?"

I want to crawl into the dirt and disappear. "I’m not talking to either of you."

Elias wipes a tear from his eye, still laughing. "You poor thing. He probably loved that."

Silas wiggles his brows. "You should ask him if you can touch them next time. Really lean into the chaos."

"You’re both demons," I grumble, trying to shove past them.

Elias sidesteps, falling into place beside me. "You know what I think?" His smirk is all teeth. "I think you should march back there and tell him you’d like a demonstration."

I shoot him a glare, but my lips twitch against my will.

Silas grins wide. "Or better—ask him if he’ll let you wash them next time."

I groan, hiding my face in my hands again. They only laugh harder, falling into step beside me like I belong to them, like teasing me is the only thing keeping them breathing.

I’m halfway through the market square, still stuck between mortification and trying to claw my soul out of my own body, when the memory hits me like a fist to the stomach.

Not just that I said. But what I said after. My steps falter. I stop dead in the middle of the dusty road, people brushing past me, the weight of it crashing down.

"I said they were average," I whisper to myself, horrified. "Completely forgettable."

Silas and Elias, still flanking me like devils on each shoulder, pause when they notice I’ve stopped.

Silas leans in, voice practically gleeful. "What now?"

I look at them, eyes wide with fresh horror. "I told him his abs were average."

Elias chokes on a laugh.

Silas looks like I’ve just handed him Christmas, his grin stretching like he’s about to combust. "You didn’t."

"I did," I croak, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead. "I said completely forgettable."

Elias’s laughter is sharp and wicked beside me, drawing stares. ", baby, that man could grind diamonds on his stomach and you told him he’s forgettable."

Silas slaps his thigh, still grinning like an idiot. "You really know how to ruin a man."

I groan, wanting to melt into the cracked cobblestone under my feet. "I have to move. I can’t ever see him again."

Silas slings an arm around me, shaking with laughter. "You know he’s gonna make you talk about it, right?"

"Please," Elias smirks, voice like velvet and razor blades. "You told Orin—Orin—that he was forgettable. That man’s gonna write a book about it."

My cheeks burn hotter, stomach curling into a pit of embarrassment and something far, far worse. Because I remember how he looked at me—how calm he was, how completely unaffected. Like he’d known I would look, and he liked it.

And now I’ve told him he’s average. I don’t know if I want to die or crawl back to the house and apologize until the end of time.

Silas’s voice drops, grinning close to my ear. "Bet you a week of kitchen duty he makes you say otherwise."

I shove him hard, but my heart is already spiraling because he’s right.

Orin Vale is many things—quiet, wise, infuriatingly patient—but forgettable isn’t one of them.

And I’ve just dared him to prove it.

Silas is still cackling beside me, like he’s physically incapable of letting this go. He’s halfway through wiping a tear from the corner of his eye when he gasps, "Speaking of average abs—"

My stomach drops.

"No," I breathe, following his gaze like a woman about to witness her own execution.

And there he is.

Orin, fully clothed now—thank the gods—but still dangerous, still magnetic, still walking toward us with that maddening, measured pace like he has all the time in the world and not a single weakness in his bones. His gaze is locked ahead, sharp and deliberate. And I know exactly where he’s going.

Straight for me.

Panic floods my veins.

I do what any dignified, self-respecting woman would do in this situation.

I try to hide.

I whip around, looking wildly for cover like a hunted animal. There’s nothing—just the market square, villagers, stalls. No alley, no wall, no shadow to sink into.

So I do the next best thing.

I duck behind Silas.

He freezes, glancing over his shoulder at me like I’ve lost my mind. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shield me," I hiss, gripping his arm. "You’re taller."

He’s grinning so hard his face might split open. ", sweetheart, your subtlety is appalling."

I peek around him, heart hammering. Orin’s closer now, weaving effortlessly through the crowd, polite nods and brief acknowledgments tossed like spare change. He doesn’t miss a step, but I swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch.

He knows I’m hiding.

Silas is no help at all. He steps deliberately aside like a traitor, leaving me exposed.

"Stand your ground," he teases. "Maybe he’ll flex for you."

I glare at him, muttering a curse under my breath, but there’s no point in fleeing now.

Orin stops in front of me, tilting his head slightly, gaze slow and assessing, like he’s reading every ridiculous thought in my head.

"Good morning," he says smoothly, voice like dark silk, as if nothing awkward has ever passed between us. "You’re out early."

I clear my throat, forcing a smile I hope doesn’t look like a grimace. "Morning."

His eyes flick down, just for a second, like he’s making note of the way I’m standing—awkward, guilty, defensive. And when he looks back up, there’s a wicked glint buried beneath all that sage-like calm.

"You mentioned something about average abs."

Silas snorts so hard beside me I think he might die.

I want the ground to swallow me whole.

I move to follow Silas and Elias, desperate to disappear in the commotion, pretend none of this ever happened—but Orin steps smoothly into my path, cutting me off like he’s been planning this exact moment all morning.

"Going somewhere?" His voice is low, deliberate, the faintest tease curling around the edge of it, but there’s steel underneath. That steady, heavy way he speaks like there’s no version of this world where I’m getting past him without answering.

I stop so fast I nearly stumble, my stomach flipping like I’ve just been caught stealing from the gods. Silas and Elias don’t even bother to wait for me, snickering like the traitors they are as they vanish into the crowd, leaving me standing there under the full weight of Orin’s attention.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "I was just—"

"Running away?" he supplies gently, brow arching.

"No," I lie, too quickly. "I was… leaving."

His mouth twitches, almost smiling, but not quite. "Interesting, considering you haven’t actually walked away."

Heat creeps up my neck, and I hate how easily he can rattle me now. I drag in a breath, folding my arms even though it does nothing to protect me from how sharp his gaze is when it slides over me.

"Do you always make a habit of blocking women in the middle of a market?" I say, trying for casual. It comes out awkward, brittle.

"Only the ones who call me average."

My face burns.

He watches me with that maddening patience, like he’s studying a puzzle and knows every piece will fall exactly where he wants it. "Is that really what you think of me?" he asks quietly, voice dipping lower, almost soft—but it feels like a challenge.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "I—"

"." He says my name like it’s something forbidden, something he wants to consume. "You know, it would be far easier if you simply admitted you were looking."

I want to disappear. Crawl under the cobblestones, set myself on fire, anything but stand here and let him unravel me like this.

"I wasn’t—"

"You were," he interrupts gently, unapologetic. "And I rather like that you did."

I blink, heat flooding every inch of me because he’s not teasing to fluster—he’s just honest, steady, infuriatingly sure. Before I can scrape together something clever or cutting, his mouth tips into a smile, sharp and devastating.

"I’ll make sure next time you get a better view."

And then he steps neatly around me, disappearing into the crowd like he hasn’t just lit me up from the inside out.