I let the silence stretch, knowing what I am about to say will shift the ground beneath us all.

Then, carefully, I speak.

“The scent,” I say, my voice even, deliberate, measured so it does not break the world too quickly, “belonged to Branwen.”

A sharp snap of movement.

Lucien jerks his head toward me, his entire body going still, predatory, like a blade drawn before the killing blow. “That’s impossible.”

I incline my head. “Perhaps.” My gaze sweeps over them, their uncertainty, their disbelief, the way the past clings to us like rot we cannot shake. “But it was her scent.”

Luna’s voice is calm, but I hear the edge of something vicious beneath it. “Who is Branwen?”

I knew this question was coming.

And still, I hesitate.

Because there is no simple answer. Because saying her name is saying ours, is peeling back a history long buried, is exposing the rot beneath the legend.

Branwen.

The first Sin-Binder.

I exhale, watching Luna across the flames, knowing the moment I say it, there will be no turning back.

“The first Sin-Binder,” I say at last. The words land like a crack of distant thunder, and the group fractures.

Silas mutters a curse. Elias lets out a low whistle. Riven goes motionless, unreadable. Layla’s brows furrow, her fingers curling against her knee.

But it is Luna who matters.

And Luna does not react, not outwardly, not yet.

She simply tilts her head, gaze cutting through me. “You’re saying she’s alive.”

“I am saying,” I answer slowly, “that her scent was there. That it was the same.”

Lucien exhales sharply, not in disbelief, but in something worse, understanding. “She died.” His voice is sharp, precise. A correction. A warning. A prayer.

“She did,” I agree. “But before she died, she was bound.”

Luna doesn’t speak, but I see the shift in her, the way she is already piecing it together.

Still, I finish it for her.

“To Caspian. To Riven.” My eyes flick across the fire to them, watching for anything, any trace of recognition.

Then, finally, I say the words that I have never spoken aloud.

“To Lucien. And to me.”

The reaction is instant. Layla looks between us all, realization dawning too quickly.

And Luna, she watches me like she is seeing me for the very first time.

“Bound,” she echoes. “Like I am to you?”

I meet her gaze. “Yes.”