Page 33 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

Lucien’s office is too perfect. Everything in its place, not a single book out of order, the polished black desk devoid of clutter.

Even the air smells controlled, leather, old parchment, and the faintest trace of something sharper.

The only sign that anyone actually inhabits this space is the glass of whiskey resting untouched beside a stack of documents.

I hate being here.

I lean against the far wall, arms crossed, watching the storm churn through the tall window behind Lucien’s desk. The sky over Daemon Academy has been restless since she arrived, thick with pressure that refuses to break.

Figures.

Lucien sits at his desk, one hand resting against his temple, his other lazily tracing the rim of his glass. He hasn’t spoken in a while. He’s waiting.

I exhale sharply through my nose. “This is a waste of time.”

Lucien flicks his gaze toward me, bored. “And yet, you’re still here.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t know why it bothers me. Maybe because this entire situation is pissing me off, and waiting just gives it more time to fester. Maybe because the sooner she hears what Lucien has to say, the sooner I can walk the fuck out of here.

Lucien watches me like he can hear my thoughts. Knowing him, he probably can.

“Relax, Riven,” he murmurs, lifting his glass but not drinking from it. “You’ll have your turn.”

I don’t like the way he says that.

I push off the wall, stalking toward the desk. “If you’re going to warn her, warn her. We both know she won’t listen.”

Lucien smirks. “She will.”

I scoff. “You think she’s suddenly going to start taking this seriously?”

He swirls the whiskey in his glass, considering. “She will if she wants to live.”

I bristle. He’s right, but I don’t like hearing it from him.

Lucien finally looks up, his pale blue eyes cold and unreadable. “You feel it, don’t you?”

The room stretches tight. My jaw locks.

I know what he means.

The shift. The slow, suffocating awareness of something changing, something unraveling beneath the surface. The Seven Sins are bound to Daemon Academy, leashed by forces older than this place itself. We’re contained.

And yet, since Luna, there’s been a disturbance, a crack in something that should be unbreakable. I can’t explain it, but I can feel it, crawling under my skin, pressing against the edges of something I don’t want to name .

And I know Lucien feels it too. But I don’t give him the satisfaction of saying it.

Lucien smirks like he knows anyway.

Before I can snap at him, there’s a knock at the door.

Finally.

Lucien doesn’t move. “Come in.”

The door creaks open, and she steps inside.

Luna.

She hesitates in the threshold, eyes flicking between me and Lucien, before straightening her shoulders. “You wanted to see me?”

Lucien gestures lazily toward the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”

She doesn’t move at first. Good. She should be wary. But then she does, crossing the room and lowering herself into the seat, her posture tense, back too straight.

Lucien leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. “I assume Caspian has given you a thorough introduction to who we are.”

Her gaze flickers. “Thorough is one way to put it.”

Lucien huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. “Then you understand what you are.”

Her fingers twitch against her lap. “I understand what you think I am.”

I barely hold back a scoff. Stubborn little thing.

Lucien tilts his head. “Doubt won’t change reality, Luna.”

Something flickers across her face, but she holds his gaze. “What do you want?”

Lucien’s expression cools. “To warn you.”

She blinks.

Lucien exhales, leaning back in his chair. “You think we’re your biggest threat?” He shakes his head. “You’re wrong. ”

The air in the room shifts. Something in Luna’s expression flickers, uncertainty, a shadow of something deeper.

I watch her carefully. She might not believe what she is, but some part of her knows she’s in danger.

Lucien taps a single finger against the desk. “We are not the only Sins in this world, Luna.”

She doesn’t breathe. I can see the way her fingers curl into her palms, knuckles going white.

Good. Let it sink in.

“The Sub-Sins are watching,” Lucien continues. “They know what you are. And when they come, they won’t hesitate.”

The storm outside cracks, distant thunder rumbling through the stone.

Luna is silent for too long.

Then, her voice, quiet but firm. “Who are they?”

I step forward before Lucien can answer.

“The ones who should’ve never existed,” I say.

She turns to me, dark eyes locking onto mine.

I don’t look away.

“Their power is like ours,” I say. “But worse. Uncontrolled. They don’t balance their nature. They drown in it.”

Her brows furrow. “But if they’re like you, ”

“They’re not like us,” I snap.

Lucien exhales. “They were exiled for a reason.”

Luna hesitates, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. “Why?”

Lucien watches her for a moment before answering. “Because they don’t stop at indulgence. They devour.”

A shadow passes over her face. She’s smart enough to piece together what that means .

Lucien leans forward again, voice quieter, sharper. “And Severin Virelius, ” he pauses, gaze piercing, “is coming for you.”

Her breath catches. “Virelius?”

I see the exact moment she realizes. The way her eyes flicker toward me, the understanding clicking into place.

Lucien nods. “Lucien’s brother.”

She looks back at him, lips parted slightly, disbelief flickering in her expression.

“Brother?” she echoes.

Lucien’s face is unreadable. “A long time ago, perhaps.”

Luna shakes her head, exhaling sharply. “Why would he care about me?”

Lucien’s voice is quiet. “Because you exist.”

Because that’s all it takes. The Sub-Sins don’t need a reason to destroy.

And Luna…? She’s a very good excuse.

“Do you know what happens to the things that are discarded?” His fingers tap once against the desk, slow, measured. “They don’t just disappear. They fester.”

Luna doesn’t move, but I see the way she absorbs that. The way her throat bobs slightly, how her eyes flicker with something hesitant.

Lucien watches her carefully. “The Seven Sins exist because we balance what we are. It’s not restraint. Not discipline. It’s nature. We are these things, our power, our hunger, our instincts. They were never meant to be controlled.”

I don’t look away from Luna as Lucien speaks. I want to see when she understands what he’s really saying.

Lucien’s voice drops. “The Sub-Sins are what happens when that balance is destroyed. ”

Luna’s lips part slightly, her shoulders tight. “What do you mean?”

Lucien lifts his glass but doesn’t drink, his gaze settling on the amber liquid as if it holds answers he’s long since stopped looking for. “They weren’t born weaker than us. They weren’t exiled because they lacked power.” His eyes flick to her. “They were exiled because they were too much.”

Something shifts in her face, something she doesn’t quite name.

Lucien continues. “Severin. Soren. Vaelrik. Malachi. Dorian. Alistair. Theron.” He lists them without pause, without hesitation, letting each name settle like a weight. “They are our blood. Our counterparts. And they were meant to die the moment they were cast out.”

Luna exhales, slow and measured, her fingers pressing into her knees. “But they didn’t.”

Lucien’s lips curl, but it’s not a smile. “No.”

She hesitates before speaking again. “How were they different?”

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. “They didn’t stop.”

Her gaze snaps to me, dark and expectant.

I roll my shoulders, hating every second of this conversation.

“We are what we are. Wrath, Pride, Lust, ” I gesture vaguely to Lucien, then myself, then nowhere in particular.

“It’s in our fucking bones. But we don’t drown in it.

We don’t lose ourselves to it.” I tilt my head, watching her closely. “The Sub-Sins don’t have that limit.”

Lucien hums in agreement. “They don’t wield their nature. They become it.” His fingers drum lightly against the desk. “Severin’s sin isn’t just arrogance. It’s a belief so absolute that he cannot fathom losing.” His blue eyes flick to Luna. “Do you know what that makes him? ”

Luna swallows. “Unstoppable.”

Lucien inclines his head. “The moment he decides something is his, he will not stop until it is.”

Her gaze darkens, flickering with something troubled. “And the others?”

Lucien exhales, settling back in his chair. “Soren Vael. Lust’s mirror.” His gaze flicks toward me knowingly before returning to her. “You’ve already felt what Caspian can do. The pull, the way he unmakes control with just a touch.”

Luna doesn’t move, but her pulse jumps in her throat.

Lucien smirks slightly. “Soren is different. Caspian’s power lures. Soren’s keeps.” He lets the words settle before continuing. “It’s obsession. An insatiable, consuming fixation. If he sets his sights on you, there will never be an end. There will never be relief.

She looks vaguely ill, but she doesn’t look away.

Lucien watches her closely. “Vaelrik Kain. Wrath’s shadow.”

At the name, my jaw tightens, but Lucien doesn’t acknowledge it. His voice lowers slightly. “Riven doesn’t just fight, he endures. Vaelrik, on the other hand, doesn’t just want to win. He wants to destroy.”

Her fingers tighten.

Lucien lifts a brow. “Malachi Veyd.”

Her brow furrows. “Envy?”

He nods. “Silas steals power from others, but it’s temporary.” A pause, voice darkening. “Malachi makes it his.”

She doesn’t speak, but I can see her processing it.

Lucien continues. “Dorian Dalmar. Greed’s corruption.” He tilts his head. “Ambrose takes what he wants. Dorian hoards what he’s afraid to lose.” His voice sharpens. “And he never lets it go.”

Her lips press together. “Alistair Dain? ”

His expression flickers. “Sloth’s ruin.”

She hesitates. “What does that mean?”

He exhales. “Sloth manipulates time. But Alistair… he doesn’t care for it at all.” He lets the weight of that settle. “He can erase it.”

She stiffens.