Page 15 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

People move like shadows at the edges of my vision, their voices distant, their conversations meaningless. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about much. Never have. But I find my mind lingering on the girl. The Sin-Binder.

The way she looked at me when I stopped time.

Like she saw something beyond the weight of my curse. Like she felt it.

I roll my wrist, cracking the joint, exhaustion settling into my bones even though I haven’t done much. That’s the thing about my power, it takes, and takes, and takes. Every second I stretch, every moment I slow, it drains me like I’m bleeding out seconds instead of power. I need to sleep.

Instead, I push open the door to Envy’s room.

The space is more shadows than light, the scent of whiskey and something burnt thick in the air. The windows are shut, the curtains drawn. The only glow comes from the single lamp on the desk, flickering weakly, casting jagged shapes against the walls .

Riven sits on the couch, a fresh split on his knuckles. He doesn’t look up when I enter.

But Silas does. He’s on the floor, legs folded under him, hunched forward like he’s studying something.

Silas Veyd, the Sin of Envy, looks hollowed out.

I kick my feet up onto the edge of Silas’s bed, stretching out like I own the place. Because honestly? I kinda do. No one else has the balls to just take up space in here, not with the way Silas broods in the corner, flipping his damn coin like it holds the meaning of life.

Except.

No coin.

His hand is open, palm facing up, like he’s lost something, his thumb rubbing absently against his fingers. There’s a crease between his brows, his lips pressed together, the sharp angles of his face unreadable except for the single emotion I rarely ever see on him.

I tilt my head, watching him. He’s not sulking. Not exactly. But he’s working through some shit.

“You gonna tell us what happened, or do we have to play twenty questions?” I flick a hand toward Riven, who’s sitting like a statue across from us, arms crossed, waiting for an excuse to lose his mind on someone.

Silas exhales, the sound sharp and annoyed. “She took my coin.”

I blink. “She what?”

“She. Took. My. Coin.” He grinds out the words like they physically pain him, and okay, now this is funny.

I smirk, propping my hands behind my head. “Damn. That’s almost romantic.”

Silas glares.

I keep going because I have zero self-preservation skills. “You let her take it?”

His jaw ticks. “I didn’t let her do anything. ”

Which means he let her.

I exhale, feeling the weight of the moment like a fog settling over the room. Silas isn’t one to give a damn about much, he takes, he steals, he hoards what isn’t his, but he doesn’t lose things. And he sure as hell doesn’t let people take from him.

“She didn’t even realize what she was doing,” he mutters, more to himself than to us. “She just walked away with it.”

Riven snorts, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s a you problem.”

I tilt my head, watching the way Silas clenches his jaw.

No, this isn’t a him problem.

This is a Luna problem.

And I don’t think any of us are ready for what that means.

It’s almost funny.

Almost.

I rub at my wrist, where her fingers had been. Warm, solid, real. She touched me.

I let the moment breathe, watching the way Silas sulks, flipping through his mind like a book missing its last chapter. Eventually, I exhale and say, “She touched me.”

Riven’s head snaps around so fast I think he might dislocate something.

“What?”

I smirk, lazy, slow. “Luna. She touched me.”

Silas finally looks up, his sharp gaze flicking between me and Riven, his fingers still curled around nothing.

“No one touches you,” Riven mutters, still staring at me like I’ve just sprouted horns. “Ever.”

I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, well. She did.”

Silas narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, she touched you?”

I spread my fingers in the air, flexing them like I’m recalling the exact feel of her hand. I kind of am. “Right here.” I tap my wrist. “Soft. Careful. Like she gave a shit.” I hum, letting my head drop back against the couch. “Weird, right?”

Silas makes a sound in his throat, something between a scoff and an exhale. “What the fuck is her problem?”

I grin, tapping my wrist again. “Jealous, Silas?”

His jaw clenches, his lips pressing together before he mutters, “Fuck off.”

I laugh, and it feels good.

Because Silas and I, we don’t do the whole intense brooding bullshit. That’s for Riven, for Lucien, for the ones who have sticks shoved so far up their s they can’t breathe without clenching their teeth.

No, Silas and I? We’re the chaos. The ones who watch from the sidelines, cracking jokes while the world burns. We don’t get caught up in feelings.

Except.

She touched me.

And she took his coin.

And for the first time in a long, long time, we both feel off.

I stretch out my arms behind my head, watching the way Riven is glaring at the floor like it personally insulted his mother.

The guy has two settings: rage and rage but quieter.

Right now, he’s somewhere in between, that storm barely leashed, his muscles tight like he’s holding himself together through sheer fucking force of will.

I squint at him, the gears in my head turning slowly, but sure.

“She keeps doing this shit,” Riven mutters, mostly to himself. His fingers drum against his knee, a restless, irritated rhythm. “She shut Lucien up, she’s got Caspian wrapped around her fucking finger, and now…”

He cuts himself off.

Now what, Riven?

I push up on my elbows, grinning. “And now?”

He doesn’t look at me.

Ah. That’s fun.

Silas finally speaks, his voice flat, distracted. “She’s not what we expected.”

“She’s worse,” Riven grinds out.

That makes me laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Riven’s glare lifts from the floor and locks onto me. Sharp. Dangerous. He’d like to wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze just to shut me up. Which only makes me more curious.

I shift, propping myself up fully now. “Okay, but real question, what did she do to you?”

Riven doesn’t answer.

And that’s when I know.

Something fucking happened.

Riven isn’t the type to hold back when he wants to tear someone apart. But now? He won’t even talk about it. Won’t even spit some venom, won’t call her weak, won’t call her a problem.

He’s just silent. And for someone like him, that says everything.

I smirk, tilting my head. “Huh.”

Riven’s jaw ticks. Whatever Luna did to him, it’s got him fucked up.

“She took your coin,” Riven mutters, pausing just long enough to snap his gaze to Silas. His voice is all gravel and razor blades. “And she held your hand. ”

Then he looks at me. I don’t know what he’s expecting, me to freak out? To be offended? To be surprised? But, honestly? I just shrug.

“So what?” I say, lazy, stretching my arms. “She’s hands-on.”

“She touched you,” Riven grinds out, like I just suggested we should all go hug Lucien.

“She touches a lot of things,” I smirk. “Mostly Caspian.”

Silas lets out a low breath, his eyes flicking up. He’s watching Riven now, but he’s thinking. I can tell because his fingers twitch like he’s itching to flip his damn coin, except, you know, he can’t.

I glance between them, slow, deliberate. “What’s the big deal?”

“There’s no way in hell she could’ve learned all this shit in a day,” Riven snaps. His fists are clenched, his jaw is tight, his shoulders strung up like a bowstring ready to snap. “One day with Caspian? That’s all it took?”

“Well,” I offer, “to be fair, Caspian’s very motivating.”

Silas exhales through his nose, tipping his head back against the bed. “Fate,” he murmurs.

Riven’s head snaps to him so fast I think for a second he might punch him.

“Fuck fate,” Riven says.

And that?

That makes me laugh. Not because he doesn’t mean it, oh, he means it. But because he’s losing.

And he knows it. And it’s glorious.

He looks ready to put a hole through the wall just to keep himself from doing something stupider, and I swear to every damned thing in existence, it’s the best show I’ve seen all week .

Silas, ever the little gremlin that he is, just flips onto his back, stretching like a cat, his eyes glinting as he watches Riven pace.

“I’d say fate is fucking with you,” he muses, lazy, smug, entirely unhelpful.

Riven stops dead.

I lift a brow, waiting.

His hands flex open and closed, his rage barely leashed, barely contained. He should be used to it by now, being fate’s bag. But no, this? This is different. This is something new. Something he doesn’t know how to handle, something getting under his skin, sinking in deep, burrowing.

“Say that again,” Riven dares, voice low, gravel thick with the promise of violence.

Silas just smirks. “Fate’s… ”

Riven’s on him in a second.

Silas is fast, but Riven’s rage is faster. He’s got him by the collar, shoving him up against the edge of his bed, teeth bared, fire in his veins.

I don’t move. Yet.

Silas just grins. The little shit is enjoying this. And that?

That makes Riven snarl.

“I don’t give a fuck about fate,” he growls. “I don’t give a fuck about Luna, or her touching you, or your damn coin, ”

“Oh, but you do,” Silas purrs. “You care so much you can’t even see straight.”

I let out a low whistle.

Riven freezes.

Silas tilts his head, slow, deliberate. Satisfied. “There it is.”

Riven shoves him back with a curse and turns away like he can’t stand this room anymore .

Like he can’t stand himself.

“Well,” I say, pushing off the bed, stretching my arms overhead, slow and easy, the very picture of bored amusement. “This has been fun, boys. I love a good lovers’ spat, but I think we all know what this means.”

Riven doesn’t turn. Silas just stares.

I let my smirk widen.

“She’s getting to you,” I tell Riven. “And that? That’s fucking hilarious.”

Silas flicks his gaze between me and Riven, calculating, watching. And I know that look. It means he’s about to start some shit.

“So,” he drawls, casual as anything, like we haven’t just been watching Riven spiral over the fucking Binder, “anyone seen Ambrose or Orin lately?”

Riven doesn’t even hesitate. “No.”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s it? Just ‘no’?”

Riven’s jaw ticks. He doesn’t look at us when he says, “They’re staying away from Luna.”

Silas hums. “How noble of them.”

Riven’s fists clench at his sides. Oh, interesting.

I flop back against the chair, stretching out my legs, lazy, unbothered. Unlike some people in this room. “You sound pissed about that, Riv.”

“I’m not.”

Silas smirks. “You so are.”

Riven growls, turns away, and I swear to every goddamn thing that’s unholy, it’s hilarious.

He drags a hand through his hair, muttering, “I’m not doing this again.”

Silas outright laughs. That dry, smug, knowing kind of laugh that makes people want to throw punches. Riven looks like he wants to .

“Oh, come on,” Silas drawls, sprawling back against the couch like he’s watching the best kind of show. “You’re acting like this is new.”

Riven’s nostrils flare. “It’s not.”

Silas smirks. “Exactly.”

“So what are you gonna do about it, Riv?”

“Nothing.”

Silas scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s cute. You’re cute. Lying to yourself like that.”

Riven exhales sharply through his nose, jaw clenching. “I mean it.”

“Sure you do,” Silas says, lazy and mocking.

Because we all know how this goes.

Riven lets out a low, growling sound that I’m fairly certain is not human.

And fuck, if that doesn’t just confirm it.

Whatever is happening here, between all of us and her, it’s not something we can stop. He just doesn’t want to admit it .