Page 11 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

The room is dim, the glow of a single candle throwing flickering shadows against the walls, stretching long and distorted over the stacks of books and half-empty glasses of stolen liquor.

Elias is sprawled out on the worn leather couch like he owns the damn place, one arm draped lazily over his eyes. He hasn’t moved in for over an hour. I’m not even convinced he’s conscious.

I press the edge of a silver coin between my fingers, flipping it over my knuckles. A habit. A compulsion. My gaze flickers toward the only other person I can tolerate in this damn school.

“She’s weaker than I expected,” I say, voice flat, watching the way the candlelight catches the coin as I flip it again.

Elias doesn’t answer. He exhales slowly, like breathing itself is an inconvenience.

I clench my jaw. “You alive, or should I start planning your funeral?”

A long pause. And then, a slow smirk .

“If you’re offering, I’d prefer cremation,” Elias drawls, shifting just enough to glance at me, his dark lashes half-lowered like he’s on the verge of sleep. He always looks like this. Half here, half somewhere else. “Less of a hassle.”

I roll my eyes, flicking the coin again. The weight of my magic coils in my veins, itching. “Did you see her?”

“Mm.”

That’s it. That’s the answer.

I exhale sharply. Fucking Elias.

Shifting against the armrest, he finally lifts his head enough to look at me properly, his silver eyes sharp despite his posture. “You don’t like her.”

It’s not a question.

I spin the coin over my knuckles. “What’s there to like?”

Elias watches me, then sighs, rubbing his fingers against his temple. “She’s not the one you should be worried about, Silas.”

I narrow my eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“The others.” He shifts again, voice slow, measured, like every word takes effort. “They’re already drawn to her. You can feel it. And you hate it.”

The coin stops mid-flip between my fingers.

A muscle tics in my jaw. I fucking hate it. Because I already feel it too. The same gnawing pull under my skin, the way something inside me twitches at the mere thought of her. It’s resentment, I tell myself. It’s nothing else.

Elias watches me for a long moment, like he sees through the cracks I keep locked down. Then he huffs a small laugh. “She hasn’t even done anything yet, and you’re already pissed. ”

I tighten my grip on the coin, resisting the urge to crush it between my fingers. “I don’t trust anyone who walks into my world and gets handed a crown.”

Elias hums, stretching out with lazy ease, tipping his head back. “She’s not wearing a crown yet.”

I scoff. “She will be.”

And when she is, I’ll be the first one waiting to knock it off her fucking head.

Elias exhales, long and slow, like this conversation is costing him something. He shifts on the couch, stretching out until he takes up half the damn thing, his fingers lazily tapping against the armrest.

“You’re just pissed because you never got a chance with the last one.” His voice is half-amused, half-bored, like he’s already decided this whole thing is beneath him.

My fingers tighten around the coin, still balanced between them. I don’t look at him. “Neither did you.”

Elias just shrugs, all easy, sleepy indifference. “Didn’t need to.”

My jaw clenches.

Because he’s not wrong.

Wrath. Pride. Lust. They were the ones who were bound to her. The ones who got close, who got to keep her, until she was dead in the fucking ground like every other Sin Binder before her.

I never got a chance. None of us did.

And yet, I remember her. The way she moved, the way she laughed, like she had a right to be one of us. Like she belonged. Luna doesn’t belong.

Elias watches me, his silver gaze calculating, despite how casual he looks. “You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?”

I finally glance at him. “Noticed what?”

He tilts his head toward the low-burning candle on the table, eyes hooded. “She kind of looks like the last one. ”

The breath I take is sharp.

Because I had noticed. Not in the obvious way. Not like they could be twins, but in the shape of her mouth, in the curve of her jaw, in something deep in her eyes, something defiant and unaware all at once.

And if I noticed, so did they.

The ones who loved her. The ones who had her in their hands, in their beds, who lost her and never fucking forgot it.

I drag my thumb over the coin, rolling it slowly against the pad of my finger. “She won’t last long enough for it to matter.”

Elias hums, shifting again. “Maybe.”

I glance at him. “You sound like you want her to.”

Elias just closes his eyes, settling deeper into the couch. “I don’t want anything, Silas. I just like watching the world burn.”

I spin the coin once, twice, before catching it flat against my palm.

Something tells me he’s going to get his wish.

"Wrath will be the first to try to kill her," Elias says, matter-of-fact, like it’s not even a question.

I snort, flipping the coin before catching it in my palm. "You think Riven has the patience to plan something like that?"

Elias smirks, eyes still closed. "He doesn’t need patience. He just needs an excuse."

That’s true enough. Wrath runs on instinct, on rage, on the need to tear something apart with his bare hands. But rage isn’t calculated. Rage is impulsive.

Pride, though? Lucien is something else entirely.

"You’re wrong," I tell him. "It’ll be Lucien. "

That gets Elias to crack an eye open, a single silver flash in the dim light of my room. "Lucien?"

I nod, flicking the coin between my fingers. "He was the first to bind to the last one. He had her the longest."

"And?"

"And he fucking lost her."

Elias hums, finally shifting upright, stretching his arms over his head. "He won’t make the same mistake twice."

I let the coin drop, catching it against my thigh. "No, he won’t."

Lucien doesn’t just play the game; he owns the board, controls the pieces, and makes the rules. And when something disrupts that balance, he doesn’t throw a fit like Riven or sulk like Orin. He erases the problem.

And Luna is a problem.

Elias scratches at his jaw, then smirks. "Bet on it?"

I raise a brow. "You want to wager on whether she lives or dies?"

He grins. "Nah. Just on who tries to take her out first."

I consider it. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I send the coin flipping through the air before snatching it back.

"You're on."

Because no one survives a game with the Sins.

And if she does?

Well. That would be interesting.

The trials are a formality, but Luna doesn’t know that yet.

She probably thinks she’s walking into a fight for survival, that she’s going to have to claw her way out with nothing but willpower and desperation.

Maybe she believes she has a chance. Caspian has a way of making people believe things, after all.

But here’s the truth:

She can’t die in the trials .

Not by our hands, anyway.

The magic that binds us, the same ancient force that drags her to us, that ties her fate to ours whether we want it or not, won’t allow it. It’s a cruel joke. We can hurt her, tear her down piece by piece, push her past every physical and mental limit she has, but we can’t end her.

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. “This is a waste of time.”

Elias lifts a brow. “What? The trials?”

“No, the entire charade.” I flick a hand toward the half-empty bottle on my desk, the only real company I’ve had all night. “We don’t need two days to figure out she’s useless. We could put her in the ring right now and prove it.”

Elias considers this, rolling a lazy shoulder. “You’re assuming she’s useless.”

“She is.”

He smirks. “And if she’s not?”

I press my fingers against my temple, grinding out my words. “Then she’s worse.”

Because if Luna can control us, if she somehow figures out how to command the very forces that define us, then it means we lose everything.

No more power plays. No more chaos. No more freedom.

And if she fails? If she can’t learn how to use her abilities fast enough? Then we’ll break her before the bond ever sets in.

Either way, she doesn’t win.

Elias hums, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Still think Caspian’s training her?”

I snort. “Caspian’s fucking her over.”

That earns a laugh .

Elias shifts, stretching his arms over his head before settling back into the couch. “He probably figures if she’s gonna go down in the trials, might as well have some fun first.”

He’s not wrong. Caspian only does what serves him.

And right now, Luna is a new, shiny toy.

A distraction.

An opportunity.

And the moment she steps into that ring, we’ll see exactly how much of one she is .