Page 55 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

I don’t know what the fuck I just walked into. The room is filled with the usual amount of Sin-induced chaos, but something is off, something wrong in a way that has nothing to do with the impending war and everything to do with the absolute disaster currently tucked under Silas’s arm.

Luna. Clasping his hand. Looking at him. Weirdly. Like he’s some kind of celestial event, some once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon that she cannot believe she gets to witness.

And Silas looks like a boiled lobster that just got thrown into boiling water again for good measure. His entire face, neck, and ears are the color of sin itself, and he’s not breathing, which would concern me if I didn’t already know he’s probably just actively dying inside.

I scan the room, because surely someone else is as alarmed as I am .

Caspian looks mildly entertained, which means this has nothing to do with him, thank the gods. Orin looks curious, like he’s studying a rare species in the wild.

Ambrose doesn’t look up from his damn book.

Elias, on the other hand, is sitting in the corner, barely holding in his laughter, his entire body shaking with the kind of glee that tells me he’s somehow responsible for this.

I stare at him. Hard.

Elias grins.

I sigh.

“What the fuck am I looking at?” I ask the room, keeping my voice even, even as my patience is already running out.

Silas jolts, eyes snapping to mine like he just remembered I exist.

Luna, still attached to him, blinks and tilts her head.

“You’re so commanding,” she sighs dreamily. “I love that about you, Lucien.”

The room goes silent.

Silas makes a noise that sounds like a dying bird.

I slowly, deliberately, turn my gaze back to him.

“Explain.”

Silas makes another noise. Then clears his throat violently, peeling himself away from Luna like she’s radioactive, but the second he tries to take his hand back,

Luna tightens her grip. Silas squeaks.

“Elias.” My voice is low, edged with warning.

Elias coughs into his fist, trying to look innocent. Fails. Miserably. “Yeah, so, uh. Funny story, ”

Silas whips his head around so fast I hear something crack. “DO NOT TELL HIM THE STORY.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Someone tell me what the fuck is happening before I throw you all into the fireplace.”

Luna gently strokes Silas’s arm. “Isn’t he so strong?”

Silas drops his face into his free hand. I exhale slowly, dragging my gaze from Luna, clasping Silas like some lovesick maiden, to Elias, who is currently red in the face from suppressed laughter and loving every second of this disaster.

I lift a brow. “Start talking.”

Elias straightens, rubbing his hands together like he’s about to tell the greatest story ever told. Which, judging by Silas’s immediate and violent head shake, it very well might be.

"Okay," Elias begins, looking around at his audience with a shit-eating grin.

“So, picture this, Silas and I, in the middle of plotting the most genius prank of the century. A true masterpiece of deception, trickery, and mild psychological torment. And our target?” He pauses, for dramatic effect. “Caspian.”

Caspian, bored as ever, barely looks up from inspecting his nails. “Charming.”

Elias waves him off. "Yeah, yeah, no need to thank me for making your life interesting."

"Interesting," Caspian repeats, unimpressed.

Elias ignores him, eyes bright with pure, unfiltered mischief. “Anyway, the plan was simple. A love spell. Short-term, twenty-four hours. A little sprinkle of obsession, a dash of hopeless adoration, and boom, Caspian falls desperately in love with the first thing he sees.”

Lucifer helpme.

I inhale sharply, keeping my voice calm, but I can already feel the headache forming. “Let me guess- ”

Elias beams. “Luna took the tea.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Silas, still not recovered, drags a shaking hand down his face. “It happened so fast,” he whispers, haunted. “I didn’t even see her grab it. One second, I had it in my hands, and the next, poof. Gone. Straight down her throat.”

Luna, oblivious, sighs happily and leans into Silas again.

“You’re so warm,” she murmurs.

“Oh my gods,” I mutter, running a slow, deliberate hand down my face. “You two are fucking idiots.”

“I prefer the term chaos engineers,” Elias corrects, grinning like the walking embodiment of bad decisions.

Silas jerks away from Luna, finally breaking free, only to be yanked back down the second she catches his wrist again.

Silas whimpers. “Lucien, please.”

I tilt my head. “Please what?”

Silas gestures frantically at the Luna-shaped problem attached to his side. “Do something.”

I fold my arms, watching him suffer. “You made this mess. Fix it.”

Luna, smiling sweetly, rests her head on his shoulder and murmurs,“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, Silas.”

Silas stops breathing.

I walk straight to the liquor cabinet.

Riven, who never enjoys anything, is having the time of his life. He’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Silas slowly lose his mind with actual amusement.

“She’s going to fucking kill you in the morning,” Riven states, entirely too pleased .

Silas jerks toward him wild-eyed, looking for help.

Riven just grins.

“I mean it,” he continues, voice edged with dark satisfaction. “She’s going to wake up, remember every single thing you said, and annihilate you.”

Silas physically deflates, dragging his hands down his face like he’s trying to peel off his own skin and escape this timeline entirely.

"Gods," he mutters. "I’m so fucked."

Luna, still wrapped around him like a barnacle, sighs contentedly. “I love your voice, Silas. It’s so deep and commanding.”

Silas chokes.

Riven laughs. Actually laughs . And it’s a low, brutal sound, full of the kind of mean-spirited joy that means he is absolutely not going to let this go.

Silas whirls, desperate. “Lucien. Do something.”

I take a slow sip of the whiskey I just poured myself. “Why would I? This is entertaining.”

Silas gapes at me. "You, you’re supposed to be the responsible one!"

I lift a brow. "And yet, here we are."

Riven smirks. “What’s the problem, Silas? I thought you two were meant to be.”

Silas makes a sound like a dying animal. “I was being held at fucking knife-point by romance, Riven.”

Riven shrugs. “That’s what happens when you’re a dumbass.”

Silas turns wildly, eyes darting between Caspian, Orin, and Ambrose, looking for help.

None of them move. Caspian just stares, disinterested, like he’s waiting for the part where this becomes his problem.

Orin watches with faint curiosity, like this is a social experiment gone wrong. Ambrose turns a page in his damn book.

Silas is on his own. And he knows it. He collapses back against the couch, expression pure resignation, while Luna traces little circles on his palm like they’re a couple that’s been together for years.

“I can’t wait for forever,” she murmurs.

Riven smirks. “Don’t worry,” he says, all mock sympathy. “You only have to survive the next, ” he glances at the clock, “sixteen hours.”

Silas looks up at the ceiling like he’s begging the gods for an asteroid.

I let the amusement fade from my expression, dragging my attention away from the ongoing Silas debacle and back to what actually fucking matters.

The war.

The army.

The fact that, within the next few days, everything we’ve built here could collapse.

“If you two can stop screwing off for five seconds, ” I cut through the noise, my voice like a blade against stone.

The room snaps to attention, the humor draining out of the air.

Even Elias sobers up, though he’s still grinning like a feral animal.

Silas, bright red and miserable, doesn’t even attempt to free himself from Luna anymore. He knows his fate is sealed.

Good.

Because we have bigger fucking problems.

“We have a situation,” I continue, my gaze sweeping over each of them. “No more pranks. No more distractions. The army is moving in. ”

A ripple of silent understanding passes through the room.

Riven’s jaw tightens, his amusement vanishing. “How close?”

“Close enough that Blackwell’s spies have stopped reporting in,” I say flatly. “Which means they’re either dead, or they ran because they didn’t want to be.”

Caspian exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck."

Orin frowns, arms crossed, gears already turning in his head. “What about the students who are left?”

“Blackwell is sealing off the school,” I say. “They’re inside the wards now, and they’ll stay there.”

Ambrose finally looks up from his book, his gaze sharp. “So it’s just us.”

“Yes,” I confirm. “The students are safe, for now. But we’re not.”

Riven leans forward, his energy shifting from mildly entertained to brutally prepared for war. “How long do we have?”

I glance at the clock, calculating. "Not long. Days at best."

Silas groans, tipping his head back. “Oh, perfect. So I get to be publicly executed by Luna in the morning and then immediately march into battle. Fantastic.”

Luna sighs dreamily against his shoulder. “I would never execute you, Silas.”

Silas looks to the heavens like he’s praying for a quick death.

I ignore them.

“After the spell wears off,” I say, turning to Riven, “I need you to take Luna. Keep an eye on her at all times. This whole situation is already unstable, and it could blow up at any second. ”

Riven watches me for a long moment before nodding once. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t push back. He knows what’s at stake.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But if she starts throwing shit again, I’m throwing her back.”

Luna, smiles softly at him. “You’re so serious, Riven. I like that about you.”

The room erupts into snickering. Riven looks like he’s about to walk into the ocean.

“Listen carefully,” I say, my voice even, deliberate. “What’s coming is bigger than wraiths. Much bigger.”

They’re listening now, fully and completely. Even Luna, lifts her head, her expression shifting, like some part of her recognizes the weight of this, despite the magic still dulling her focus.

I glance at Riven first. He’s the one who will revel in this fight the most, but even he needs to understand what we’re dealing with.

“Blackwell’s last report came through before his spies went silent,” I tell them. “He confirmed wraiths, yes, but not just the mindless kind. These are organized. Controlled.”

Orin nods grimly. “That means Severin is leading them himself.”

“Yes.” I shift my focus. “But it’s not just them.”

A flicker of something sharp moves through Caspian’s gaze. “What else?”

I exhale. “Banshees.”

Ambrose finally sets his book down.

Silas mutters a curse.

“They’re moving through the eastern border,” I continue. “At least four confirmed, but likely more.” I glance at Orin. “They’ll do what they do best, weaken the magic of anyone in their range. Make the strongest feel hollow, make the weak crumble where they stand.”

Orin’s jaw tightens. “So we have to kill them first.”

“Yes.” I shift to Riven. “You, Silas, and Caspian will take the front. The wraiths are fast, but if Severin is commanding them directly, he’ll use them as a shield, let them wear us down before he brings in the real monsters.”

Silas, still half-trapped under Luna, nods. “And the real monsters are…?”

I glance at him, then to the rest of them. “Trolls.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Riven breathes, his entire expression shifting into something feral.

I expected that. Trolls are brutal, savage things. They don’t go down easily. But to someone like Riven, someone who wants a real fight, something that doesn’t die easily? It’s a gift.

“Blackwell believes there are at least five, maybe more,” I continue. “They’ll come after the first wave. If we aren’t ready for them, they will tear through everything in their path.”

Caspian rolls his shoulders. “Then we make sure they never get that far.”

I nod once. “Elias, you and Ambrose will take the west flank, hold the illusion barriers in place. If the banshees break through first, those wards will fail, and we’ll be overrun.”

Ambrose, as usual, doesn’t argue. Just considers the weight of it, then finally speaks . “And if they get through anyway?”

I meet his gaze. “Then we make sure they wish they hadn’t. ”

Silas shifts slightly, muttering something under his breath.

Luna blinks up at him. “You’re so brave, Silas.”

Riven smirks. “He’s not wrong. You should make sure you stay alive tomorrow, Silas. Wouldn’t want to break your bond.”

Silas looks at me like he’s begging for mercy. I offer none. Because there are worse things coming for all of us.

And we’re running out of time. I calculate the odds. Every battle is a puzzle. Every enemy a variable , every terrain shift a deciding factor. The others think I’m cold, detached, but that’s only because they don’t realize how precise survival has to be.

I don’t play games with our lives.

We’re ready. As ready as we can be. The wraiths are nothing more than fodder, a shield to exhaust us before the real threats move in. The banshees will weaken our magic, and the trolls will rip through whatever remains.

But none of that matters. Because Luna is the real problem.

She doesn’t realize it yet, gods, I hope she never does, but she is the one thing that can truly break us.

If Severin gets to her first, if he convinces her that she belongs with him instead, then this entire war is lost before it even begins.

Right now, she only has a true bond with Riven.

That’s the only thing keeping us safe. One link, one anchor to her power instead of all seven .

But bonds are malleable. They’re teachings, not just magic. Severin is the kind of bastard who knows exactly how to mold something fragile into something dangerous. If he gets his hands on her, if he teaches her how to wield the binding magic properly, if he convinces her to use it against us.

I clench my jaw. She would have absolute control. Over all of us. And we’d have nothing.

For the first time, I wonder if I should have listened to Blackwell. If I should have taken his advice and forced her to bond with another one of us. Maybe two. Maybe all of us. At least then she’d be rooted here, bound enough to ensure that no one else could sway her.

But it’s too late for that now.

I glance at her, still curled up next to Silas, still glowing with the remnants of that fucking spell, still completely unaware of how much power she could hold over us if she only knew how to use it.

She is our weakest link. And if I don’t figure out how to keep her on our side, she could become our greatest downfall .