Page 64 of The Sin-Binder’s Fate (The Seven Sins Academy #1)

This is fine. This is totally fine. Lucien gave me an order. A simple, clear, absolutely fucking insane order.

Bond with her. It should be easy. I should be focusing on the battle, on the fact that the Sub-Sins are ripping through Daemon Academy like it’s a paper house in a hurricane.

I should be concerned about the wraiths spilling in through the broken gates, about the unnatural storm cracking the sky open like a wound.

But no. I’m carrying Luna, bleeding, barely conscious, and completely fucking doomed, through the halls while my brain short-circuits over the fact that in about five minutes, I am supposed to bind her.

I swallow hard. The first part is simple. Cut, share blood, say the binding words. That, I can do. That, I have done before. The second part? The part that makes me want to bash my head into the nearest stone wall?

We have to fuck.

Yeah.

My pulse is currently hammering like a death knell, and my mind is playing a fun little game called How Do I Get Out of This Without Dying or Looking Like a Virgin Who Accidentally Walked into a Brothel?

No answers yet.

I glance down at her as I push open the heavy doors to my room with my shoulder.

Her breathing is too shallow, her skin a shade too pale.

The wound on her side is still seeping through her ruined uniform, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she hovers in the space between unconscious and awake.

I hate how she looks like this. Weak. Small. Mortal. It does something ugly to my insides, makes something sharp twist behind my ribs.

I shove the feeling away and set her down on my bed, my actual bed, which I will deal with later, when I don’t have a ticking clock counting down to an awkward, terrifying, soul-binding fuck session.

I rake a hand through my hair, breathing deep through my nose.

First things first.

I press my hand to her jaw. And push. The stolen power thrums inside me, raw and restless, eager to be used, to be fed, to be given away. I siphoned it from Orin earlier, and now I let it go, pouring it into her, threading it through her veins like fire and life.

The energy flows into her, sinking into her skin, bleeding color back into her cheeks. She gasps softly, her lips parting as the power floods her system. Her fingers twitch against the sheets, and I feel the moment her body wakes up.

Her dark eyes snap open. And then she looks at me .

For a second, I can’t breathe.

Her throat bobs as she pushes herself up on her elbows, her brows pulling together. "Silas…?" Her voice is rough, barely there, but still does things to me.

I clear my throat and step back. Distance. I need distance.

"You almost died," I say, keeping my tone light. "Lucien gave me the honor of making sure that doesn’t happen."

Her brows furrow. "How?"

I hesitate. I should just rip the bandage off, but the words catch in my throat. I have stared down Death itself without flinching, but telling Luna Evernight that we have to fuck to make sure she stays alive?

Kill me.

I rake a hand through my hair. "Alright, here’s the deal." I pace the room, not looking at her. "You already know what a bond is. You and Riven have one. You know what it does."

She nods slowly.

I force the words out. "Lucien wants me to bind you. Now."

Luna blinks. Once. Twice. Then: “Excuse me?”

Yeah.

I knew this was going to suck.

I turn to face her, arms crossed, trying to look bored instead of like my entire nervous system is actively shutting down.

"You were bleeding out," I say flatly. "Lucien thinks you need access to all of us, not just Riven. The only way to do that is if you bond with another Sin."

She stares at me. I brace for it.

"Silas." Her voice is softer now, careful .

I point at her. "No. Don’t say my name like that. Like you’re about to try and make this a gentle, heartfelt moment."

Her mouth twitches, but she schools her expression. "We don’t have to, "

"Yeah, we do," I cut in quickly, voice a little too sharp. "Unless you want to go back out there and see if you can survive a second attack without dying on us."

She exhales slowly, and I can tell she’s weighing her options. There aren’t any.

"Look," I say, forcing myself to breathe. "We don’t have time to argue about this. If we don’t do it, you go back out there half-dead, without access to my power, and Severin rips you in half. If we do, "

"I get access to your abilities," she finishes, her voice tight.

I nod. "And you get strong enough to survive."

Another beat of silence. Then, to my absolute fucking horror, she smirks.

I glare. "No. Don’t. Don’t you fucking, "

"Are you panicking?" she asks, head tilting.

I grab the dagger from my belt, flipping it in my hand before offering it to her.

She takes it without hesitation. Her fingers brush mine. A pulse runs through my body, sharp and electric, something new curling low in my stomach.

I freeze.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she presses the blade to her palm, and cuts. Her blood smells like power. I take the dagger, dragging the blade across my own palm. Our blood drips, staining the stone floor, and my chest goes tight.

I exhale slowly, gripping her wrist, pressing our wounds together.

The moment our blood mingles, the world shifts.

Power surges, electric and alive, curling through my veins, seeping into my skin like a second pulse.

My breath catches, my entire body locking up as the bond latches onto something deep inside me.

I see her. Feel her. And I know, I just ruined myself. For her. And there is no turning back.

I clear my throat, forcing my muscles to loosen, but nothing about this feels natural. My body feels stiff, like a machine working through the wrong programming, like I was never built for this, never meant for it. Everything feels off, like my own skin doesn’t know how to fit around me anymore.

She’s quiet. Steady. Too steady. Like she already knows. Like she already sees through me. Her dark eyes don’t waver, don’t flicker with hesitation, don’t mock me for the fact that I feel like my chest is caving in. She’s just waiting.

Then, finally, she speaks.

“So…” Her voice is soft, but it isn’t uncertain. There’s no hesitance, no awkwardness, just acceptance. “Are you going to do it?”

Something in my stomach drops. The weight of it slams into me all at once, fast and brutal, like being shoved into ice water with no warning, no breath, no chance to prepare.

Because it’s real. She’s ready. And I am not.

I fold my arms over my chest, forcing my expression into neutrality, like I’m unbothered, like I’m not currently on the verge of having a complete fucking breakdown.

I feel ridiculous, this should be easy. I should be easy.

But my hands feel wrong, my body feels wrong, my entire existence feels wrong standing in front of her like this.

And so, before my brain can catch up to my mouth, I say, “Why don’t you do it?”

Her brows pull together, slight confusion slipping through her otherwise unreadable expression. “What?”

I swallow, but my throat feels too tight, too constricted. My jaw clenches against the weight pressing against my ribs. I know what she’s asking. I know what I’m supposed to say. What I’m supposed to do.

But I can’t.

“You,” I say, my voice only barely steady, only barely not shaking. “You start.”

Her expression shifts, not in anger, not in amusement, but something else. Something I don’t know how to process. She looks at me like she’s figuring me out, like I’m an equation she didn’t expect to have to solve, like I just confirmed something she was already beginning to suspect.

And I hate it.

I brace myself for whatever she’s going to say next. For a sharp response, a challenge, the inevitable calling out that she already knows. Because Luna Evernight sees me. She knows this isn’t bravado, isn’t some lazy deflection meant to make her squirm.

She knows.

But instead of calling me out, she just exhales. Slow. Deliberate .

Her lips crash into mine, and my entire brain short-circuits.

I should be in control of this. I should be leading.

I should be saying something smooth and seductive, making this a moment she’ll never forget.

Instead, I stand there like a fucking idiot, my arms stiff at my sides, every muscle in my body locked tight as her mouth moves over mine, warm and insistent, with none of the hesitation I expected.

My pulse slams against my ribs. The bond isn’t just responding, it’s pulling. It’s taking all my carefully controlled bullshit and shredding it like paper, making my skin burn, my thoughts blur, my lungs tight with something I don’t know how to process.

Then, just as quickly, her hands move. Not soft. Not tentative. Determined. She fists my shirt at the hem and yanks it up.

My fucking shirt.

I choke.

"Whoa, okay, we’re, we’re really going for it, huh?" My voice cracks on the last word, and kill me now. Just let Severin come in here and snap my neck. I’ll thank him for the mercy.

Luna doesn’t stop. If anything, she’s annoyed that I’m still talking. Her fingers are already at my belt, and I don’t even know how we got here, how this escalated so fast, but her touch skims over my stomach, and every single muscle in my body tenses so hard I might actually implode.

I grab her wrist on pure instinct, my brain struggling to catch up, to slow this down. "Luna, sweetheart, if you want this to be special, we can, I mean, maybe a little romance? A candle? A, a vibe? Is there a vibe?"

She stares at me. Just, stares. Like she cannot believe the words that just came out of my mouth .

Then she blinks. "A candle?"

I point at her, desperate. "People like candles! Candles are sexy! This feels, clinical!"

She exhales through her nose. "Silas, we are in the middle of a battle. You want to light a candle?"

Okay, when she says it like that, it does sound stupid.