Page 16 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

I press my fingers against my temples, exhaling slowly.

Caspian has been talking for what feels like an eternity, his voice rolling over me in smooth, unbroken waves.

It’s not unpleasant, not exactly. His voice is all smoke and velvet, the kind that could lull someone into a false sense of security if they weren’t paying attention.

But I am paying attention. And he’s still not giving me anything useful.

“So let me get this straight,” I cut in, dropping my hand and fixing him with a look.

“You’re telling me all this history, how the first Sin Binder came to be, how the bond works, how my power is ‘reactive’, ” I make air quotes with my fingers.

“But none of this helps me figure out how to use it when I’m thrown into the trials? ”

Caspian leans back in his chair, looking thoroughly unbothered. He stretches, the motion deliberate, lazy. “You don’t need to figure it out. You’ll react. That’s the whole point.”

“That’s the worst fucking plan I’ve ever heard.”

He smirks. “I don’t know. I think it’s a great plan. You get in a life-or-death situation, and bam, your instincts take over.” He snaps his fingers. “That’s how all Sin Binders before you have done it. ”

I narrow my eyes. “And how many of them survived?”

He just grins.

Asshole.

I shove back against my chair. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

He lifts a brow, the picture of amused curiosity. “Enjoy what, exactly?”

“Keeping me in the dark.”

His smile is slow, wicked. “Oh, sweetheart, I’d never keep you in the dark. I’m just not handing you a flashlight.”

I cross my arms. “And why the hell not?”

“Because,” he murmurs, leaning forward now, the space between us shrinking, “watching you figure it out is much more fun.”

"Which one should I be most worried about?"

He hums, dragging a single finger along the edge of the table. "Depends. Worried about in what way?"

I roll my eyes. "The way that might get me killed."

His grin sharpens, teeth flashing. "Ah. That way." He leans in slightly, tapping a rhythm against the wood. "Lucien, Riven, and Orin."

A chill prickles down my spine, but I force myself to stay still. “Why them?”

Tilting his head, his smile widens like he enjoys drawing this out.

"Lucien, because he doesn’t bend for anyone.

He’s the strongest of us, the one who kept the last Sin Binder in line.

If you think he’ll roll over for you just because you share some cosmic bond, you’re in for a very rude awakening. "

My stomach tightens, but I refuse to let the weight of his words show on my face.

"Riven?" I press.

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat, something almost thoughtful.

"Wrath doesn’t do well with submission, his own, or anyone else’s.

He’s violence and destruction wrapped in human skin, and if you challenge him, if you push him the wrong way, he’ll tear you apart just to prove he can.

" He watches me closely, waiting for a reaction, but I just hold his gaze.

"Have you pissed him off yet?" he asks, like it’s an inevitability.

I exhale through my nose. "I don’t think he likes me."

"Oh, sweetheart. Riven doesn’t like anyone."

That isn’t comforting.

I shift my weight, leaning slightly forward. "And Orin?"

His amusement fades just enough to be noticeable. He sits back, arms draping over the chair, but his fingers tighten where they rest.

"Gluttony is… insatiable," he murmurs. "He takes and takes, and it’s never enough. Food, power, people, he devours everything he touches. If he decides he wants you, you won’t be able to stop him."

A slow, creeping unease curls in my gut.

"He doesn’t seem as involved as the others," I say carefully, thinking of Orin’s quiet presence, the way he watches without speaking.

He nods once. "That’s because he’s waiting. He’s patient. But if he makes a move, " He pauses, just for a second. "You won’t see it coming until it’s too late."

I swallow, pressing my palms into the table to steady myself. "So… those three are the worst?"

Caspian grins, tilting his head. "I didn’t say that."

My fingers curl against the wood. "Then who?"

He leans in again, voice dropping to something too soft, too dangerous.

"All of us, Luna. Every single one of us is a threat. "

I exhale sharply, dragging both hands down my face before slumping back in the chair. “You know what’s crazy?”

He lifts a brow, clearly entertained by whatever I’m about to say. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

I nod. “Two weeks ago, I wasn’t here. I wasn’t thinking about controlling a bunch of hot, supernatural assholes or worrying about whether or not they’re going to kill me in the trials. I was dealing with real problems.”

His lips twitch. “Oh? And what real problems were those?”

I sigh dramatically, staring up at the ceiling like I’m reliving my greatest tragedy. “Well, for starters, I drove my dad’s car straight into the garage.”

Caspian blinks. Then he grins. “You, wait. What?”

“Oh yeah,” I say, waving a hand. “Full-speed ahead, right into the wall. Got stuck halfway in. Couldn’t move forward, couldn’t reverse. Just… wedged.”

His laughter is immediate, a deep, obnoxious thing that makes me glare at him.

“Oh, but it gets better,” I continue, pointing a finger at him. “I panicked. Obviously. So instead of, you know, figuring it out like a rational human, I climbed into the backseat and got out through the trunk.”

Caspian wheezes. “You, ” He puts a hand to his chest like he’s personally wounded. “You abandoned the car?”

“Yep.”

“Just left it there?”

“Oh yeah,” I say. “Didn’t even look back. I ran off like I had nothing to do with it. My dad was going to kill me, so obviously, my only choice was to disappear.”

He laughs so hard he has to brace a hand on the table, his shoulders shaking. “And now look at you,” he gasps, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Two weeks later, here you are, dealing with something so much worse.”

I groan. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying! I should be dealing with stupid, normal shit, not this apocalyptic bonding nonsense. I didn’t want any of this, Caspian.” I shove my hands into my lap, my voice turning quiet. “I didn’t even want to come here.”

His laughter fades, and for once, he studies me, like he’s seeing something past my words.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to control any of you. I don’t want to want you. And yet, here I am, hanging in the balance of something I don’t understand, being told I have to command you, own you, or else I’ll be the next Sin Binder to die a terrible, agonizing death.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to something smooth, something deep enough to make my stomach twist.

“Too bad, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Because want it or not, you’re in this now. And you don’t get to walk away.”

The words shouldn’t make sense. None of this should.

Daemon Academy. The Seven Sins. The trials, the bonds, the power thrumming beneath my skin like something ancient, something inevitable.

I should be panicking. Fighting. Screaming that this isn’t my life, that I didn’t ask for this, that I want out.

But I don’t.

The realization settles deep, curling around my ribs like an old secret finally dragged into the light. It should scare me, this unnatural calm, the way my body doesn’t reject the weight of what’s coming. The way my mind isn’t reeling, trying to claw its way back to normal.

Maybe I was never meant for normal.

Maybe I was always meant to be here .

I exhale slowly, letting his words drift to the back of my mind as I focus inward, tracing the edges of this strange, unshakable certainty.

It doesn’t matter that I spent my whole life thinking I was just Luna Evernight, another girl with a quiet existence, another nameless face in a sea of ordinary.

It doesn’t matter that two weeks ago, my biggest problem was a car stuck in my dad’s garage. Because this? This is what I was meant for. The Sins, the trials, the impossible weight of command pressing against my soul.

I exhale through my nose, watching Caspian as he leans back in his chair like he’s the king of the universe. Which, honestly, in his head? He probably is.

“So what you’re saying,” I say, resting my chin in my palm, “is that my best bet at surviving this trial is… what? Commanding you all to kneel at my feet?”

His lips curl, lazy and knowing. “Tempting. But you’d have to earn that first, sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes so hard they should get stuck in the back of my skull. “Right. Well, since that’s not happening, maybe you could teach me something useful?”

“Everything I’ve told you is useful.”

I lift a brow. “Useful to you. You just like the sound of your voice.”

He grins, shameless. “You noticed.”

I groan, slumping back in my chair. “Fine. If you won’t teach me how to win, then teach me how to stop you. What’s your weakness?”

His grin sharpens, amused. “Darling, if you want to stop me, you’d have to be willing to touch me first.”

I don’t flinch. I don’t blush. I just stare him down, unimpressed. “Is that supposed to scare me? ”

“Oh, I hope it doesn’t.” He pushes his chair back, stands, and prowls around the table toward me. When he reaches me, he lowers himself until we’re at eye level, his hands braced on either side of my chair, his voice turning low, indulgent.

“Stopping me, sweetheart, isn’t about strength. It’s about knowing where to hit.”

My fingers curl against the edge of the table. “Then show me.”

He chuckles, shaking his head like I just asked him to bleed for me. “Alright,” he murmurs. “I’ll give you this one thing.”

Then he grabs my wrist.

Heat licks up my arm like static under my skin, something heady curling through my stomach at the slow, deliberate press of his fingers. His power drags against mine, pulling, coaxing, and I feel it, him, like a wave of something thick and consuming, meant to drown.

I inhale sharply.

“Focus,” He purrs.

I do. I have to.

His thumb strokes idly over my pulse. My heart slams against my ribs, but I push past it, pushing into the pull, feeling for the source of his power. It’s warm, insidious, the kind of thing that turns people into willing captives. Desire, twisting sharp and sweet.

I lift my free hand. And push. It’s not a physical push. Not entirely. It’s instinct, a demand, a command rooted somewhere deeper than words. A rejection of the power he’s trying to weave around me.

He jerks back like I just burned him. His pupils blow wide, his chest rising on a slow inhale.

Then he laughs, all deep, delighted amusement. “Would you look at that,” he murmurs. “You can learn.”

I stare at my hand, my breath uneven. The heat lingers, his presence like a ghost in my skin. But I did it.

I stopped him. And for a fleeting, impossible second, I think he liked it.

Caspian’s eyes gleam, dark amusement flickering like embers in the depths of them. He stretches his fingers, rolling out his wrists as if he’s loosening up before a fight.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says smoothly. “Let’s see if you can do it twice.”

I barely have time to react before his power is on me again. It’s velvet and steel, sin wrapped in something slow and insidious. It seeps in, warm, like a breath curling against the nape of my neck, sliding over my skin in phantom touches.

But this time, I feel it. Not just the way it pulls, but the way it threads. It’s subtle, a whisper woven into the air between us, curling like smoke, shifting when I move.

I grip the edge of the desk and push again, But something is different.

It doesn’t just repel.

It snaps.

Not back into nothingness, Back into him. His breath catches, his pupils dilating, his body going rigid as his power crashes back into him. It’s not just the recoil, I see the way it hits him, see the way it slams through him like he wasn’ t prepared to taste his poison.

And then he exhales, low and rough, eyes dropping to my mouth, voice barely a rasp,

“Fuck.”

I let go.

The heat snaps between us, severed.

Caspian blinks, looking at me like I just did something I shouldn’t have been able to do.

“Well, well,” he murmurs, dragging a hand through his hair. “That’s new.”

I glare. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He leans in again, lower this time, his mouth just shy of my ear. Too close. Too much. “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

For a second, there’s a flicker of pride in my chest, hot, sharp, intoxicating. I did that. Me. I didn’t just hold Caspian off. I turned his power against him.

But the moment doesn’t last. Because the reality slams into me just as fast: Caspian is only one of them.

One Sin. One battle. One fight.

There are six more. And they’re not all like him. Caspian plays with me, teases me, lets me test my limits because he wants me to. Because it amuses him to see me struggle and claw my way through this.

Lucien won’t be so forgiving.

Riven won’t hold back.

Silas, fuck knows what’s going on in his head.

Ambrose hasn’t even bothered with me.

Elias… I don’t understand him, not really, but something about him makes my skin prickle, like he sees through all of this, all of me, and just doesn’t care enough to interfere .

And Orin, My stomach turns at the thought of Orin.

It’s not enough. I know that now. I can hold my own against one of them, but what happens when they come at me together?

When did they decide I’m a threat?

When do they decide they don’t want to play anymore?

Because that’s what this is right now, a game. A twisted, dangerous game that I’ve been forced into, and I don’t know the rules, don’t know what it means to win, only that losing means,

I can’t lose.

I can’t afford to. But I’m standing in a fucking abyss, alone, and I don’t have the strength to fight them all at once.

Not yet.

I exhale, tilting my head up, staring at Caspian, who’s watching me like he knows exactly what just clicked into place inside my head.

Caspian tilts his head, studying me with too-knowing eyes. "What’s wrong, sweetheart? Realizing you bit off more than you can chew?"

I force a smirk. "Just thinking about how much fun it’ll be when I do figure out how to take you all down."

His grin stretches. "Mmm. I’d pay to see that."

Would you?

Because I don’t know if I will .