Page 50 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

The others are filing out, their conversations fading into the hallways, the quiet hum of strategy and exhaustion trailing behind them.

Lucien doesn’t move.

Neither does Riven.

They know I didn’t stay behind just to loiter.

Lucien tilts his head slightly, watching me, his blue eyes half-lidded, unreadable. Riven stands off to the side, arms crossed, jaw tight, still radiating discomfort, still seething over a bond he didn’t want but can’t undo.

I roll my shoulders, glancing toward the door to make sure we’re alone before I exhale. “Luna told me something.”

Lucien doesn’t react, not visibly. But I’ve known him long enough to recognize the slight shift in focus, the way his attention locks in like a predator scenting something useful.

Riven just sighs, like he’s already irritated by the conversation he hasn’t even heard yet. “Of course she did.”

I ignore him .

“She has a sister.”

That gets their attention. Lucien’s brows lift, just barely. Riven’s head snaps up, his expression darkening.

“What?” Riven’s voice is low, sharp.

I nod. “A younger sister. She told me yesterday.” I exhale, watching their reactions carefully. “Which means, if what we know about the Sin Binder bloodline is right. ”

“She could be theirs.”

Lucien says it first.

Luna wasn’t supposed to exist. The Sin Binders were thought to be gone. We spent centuries bound to the academy, with no one strong enough, no one worthy enough, to hold us. Then Luna appeared, an anomaly, the last of her bloodline, a final correction of fate.

Or so we thought. Because now, she’s telling us there’s another. A sister. Which means the Sub-Sins might not be as unbound as we thought.

Lucien leans back, steepling his fingers, his expression composed but sharp. “She told you this willingly?”

I nod. “Seemed like she only just considered what it meant herself.” I pause. “She asked if her sister would have to be the Sub-Sins’ Binder.”

Riven scowls. “And?”

I exhale. “Technically? Yes.”

Another silence.

Lucien tilts his head, considering. “Does she know where her sister is?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t say.”

Lucien’s gaze flicks downward, like he’s calculating, like pieces are rearranging in his mind, shifting into a picture only he can see.

“This changes things. ”

Riven scoffs. “No, it doesn’t.” His voice is sharp, rough, like he’s already decided he wants no part of this. “Severin and the others aren’t just going to roll over because there might be another Binder somewhere.”

Lucien smirks. “No, they won’t.”

Riven narrows his eyes.

“But,” Lucien continues, voice smooth, thoughtful, dangerous, “if the Sub-Sins learn there’s someone out there meant for them, someone meant to hold them in place, someone meant to chain them the way we’ve been chained, ”

His lips curl. A slow, dangerous grin.

“Then we might not have to kill them.”

Riven exhales sharply, shaking his head, clearly against whatever Lucien is already planning. “You think this changes anything? You think Severin would ever allow himself to be bound again?”

Lucien lifts a brow. “I think Severin wants power. I think he wants revenge. But more than that,” He leans forward slightly, his voice turning silkier, deadlier. “I think he wants a choice.”

Riven glares. “A choice?”

Lucien’s eyes gleam. “The same choice we have.”

A beat of silence.

I consider it. The Sub-Sins have always been the ones who were cast out.

We don’t talk about them. We don’t acknowledge them.

We don’t even use their true names. They were exiled, abandoned, left to rot beyond the walls of the academy, left to grow into something twisted, unruly, vengeful.

But if they had a Binder? A true one? One they weren’t forced to follow, but one they could choose ?

Lucien tilts his head. “We don’t have to make them bow.” His voice drops, curling at the edges. “We just have to make them want to.”

Riven’s fingers flex. His jaw tightens. He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like any of this. But he doesn’t argue, either. Which means he’s considering it.

Lucien exhales, leaning back again. “It’s a long shot.”

I nod. “But it’s a shot.”

Lucien smirks. “Exactly.”

He stands, rolling his shoulders, already moving on to his next step, his next calculation. But before he turns to leave, he pauses. Eyes flicking toward me, lips curling slightly.

“And here I thought tonight was going to be boring.”

Then he’s gone.

Riven stays. He exhales sharply, shoulders rising, then falling, reluctant, but inevitable, and finally, finally, he sits down. And that alone tells me everything.

I study him, the way his body holds the weight of this, the way his arms rest on his knees, his fingers curling into fists like he wants to break something.

I tilt my head. “So.”

He doesn’t look at me.

I smirk. “How’s it going? Being bound again?”

Riven scoffs. The sound is low, gritted, barely more than a breath. “Like fucking hell.”

I lean back against the couch, stretching my legs out, watching him carefully. “Worse than last time?”

The last time Riven was bound to someone, it nearly killed him. And yet, this is different. Because this time, he’s not just bound to power, not just chained to some desperate warlock trying to wield him like a weapon. This time, it’s Luna. And Riven doesn’t know what to do with that.

“She’s not like the last one,” I say, voice even. “She’s not trying to use you. She’s not trying to take something from you.” I pause, watching the way his jaw tightens. “So what is it?”

His fingers curl tighter. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I snort. “Try me.”

He finally looks at me then, sharp-eyed and irritated, like he wants to tell me to shut the fuck up, like he’s already regretting not just walking away.

But he doesn’t leave. Which means, despite whatever he says, he wants to talk about it.

He drags a hand through his hair, his body wound too tight, like he’s holding something in, something dangerous, something that might eat him alive if he doesn’t get it out first.

“It’s not about her,” he mutters.

I raise a brow. “You sure about that?”

His glare sharpens. “It’s the bond.”

I hum. “Uh-huh.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t like it.”

That? That makes me laugh.

“No shit.” I gesture toward him. “You’ve spent the last two days walking around like someone strapped you into an iron maiden.”

His scowl deepens.

I grin. “You’re acting like she branded her name into your chest.”

He doesn’t react. Which is how I know, fuck. That’s exactly how it feels to him.

I exhale, rubbing my fingers over my jaw. “Look, I get it. This isn’t what you wanted. But it’s done. And you can pretend it doesn’t matter, you can act like you hate it, but you’re feeling her right now, aren’t you?”

His shoulders lock. It’s subtle. Small. But there. And that’s the thing about the bonds. They don’t just hold you to someone. They remind you. Every second. Every moment. Every breath. You don’t get to forget them.

“I don’t know what to do with her.” His voice is rough, barely above a growl.

I raise a brow. “You could try not being an asshole.”

He snorts, but it’s humorless. I watch him for another long second before shaking my head.

“You do realize she’s just as fucked as you are, right?” I motion vaguely in the direction Luna left. “She didn’t ask for this either.”

His fingers twitch.

“Except unlike you,” I continue, watching him closely, “she’s actually trying.”

Something darkens in his expression. I hold his gaze, waiting. Because I know him. I know what he’s thinking. And I know that deep down, he already understands. That this bond isn’t just a curse.

It’s a choice. And whether he likes it or not, he has to make one.

His gaze is fixed somewhere beyond the firelight, past the flickering embers, past the quiet hum of the estate settling into its midnight stillness. Like he’s seeing something else. Or maybe, like he’s trying not to.

I know what’s coming before he even speaks.

“She’s not her,” I say quietly.

Riven exhales, sharp and frustrated, dragging a hand through his hair. “I know that.”

But he doesn’t. Not really. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be this way. Wouldn’t be sitting here with his jaw locked, his body rigid, like he’s bracing for something he can’t stop from coming. Like he’s already waiting for her to die.

He shakes his head, his fingers flexing restlessly. “I loved Maeve.” The words come flat, too even. “And you saw how that ended.”

She was powerful. Too powerful. And she died for it. And now, now, the same thing that took her is stirring again.

Riven exhales, tired, shaking his head. “I’m not doing this twice.”

I tilt my head. “Doing what?”

His eyes snap to mine, dark and cold, his expression pulled tight with something I can’t tell is anger or exhaustion. “I’m not getting attached to her.”

He says it like he’s making a declaration. A promise.

I let a beat of silence stretch before I nod slowly. “Sure.”

Riven narrows his eyes. “Don’t patronize me. ”

I shrug, stretching my legs out in front of me, voice even. “You don’t want to get attached.” I glance at him, raising a brow. “How’s that working out for you?”

His jaw tightens. “Fuck off.”

I smirk, but I don’t push it. Not yet. I exhale instead, resting my head against the back of the couch. “You know, for someone so convinced he’s keeping his distance, you sure spend a lot of time being aware of her.”

Riven glares.

I keep going.

“She walks into a room, and you know before she even speaks.” I tilt my head. “She gets too far away, and I see you look toward the door like something’s wrong.”

His fingers curl into fists.

“And now?” I lift a brow. “You’re sitting here talking about her. Thinking about her. Worrying about her.” I exhale. “So yeah, Riv. You’re really keeping her at arm’s length.”

Riven scoffs, shoving off the chair, pacing toward the fire. “It’s the bond.” His voice is sharp, gritted. “It’s not real.”