Page 13 of The Sin Binder's Chains

I don’t breathe.

I don’t move.

I don’t function.

Somewhere in the back of my skull, I hear a distant, glitching alarm, like my subconscious is screaming ERROR, ERROR, DO NOT COMPUTE.

Luna, completely unaware that she’s just killed me, keeps holding on, her grip firm, warm, fingers digging into the fabric of my pants.

I think I black out. Just for a second. A full fucking blue-screen reset, my brain dissolving into a mess of static and pure, unfiltered what the actual fuck is happening right now?

“Elias,” Lucien calls sharply from ahead, utterly oblivious to my personal, private fucking crisis.

I try to answer. I do. But my voice? Doesn’t work.

Luna shifts, adjusting her grip slightly, and my entire soul leaves my body.

Holy shit.

Lucien glances back, eyes narrowing. “Elias.”

Still nothing. My mouth opens, but my brain is so fucking fried that all that comes out is a strangled, unintelligible noise, some horrific combination of a gasp and a wheeze and maybe a desperate attempt at language.

Luna finally, finally notices my very real and serious distress.

Her head tilts slightly, her hands still resting exactly where they should not be. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” I blurt, far too quickly, voice cracking somewhere in the middle.

Lucien is now definitely looking at me like I’m an idiot.

Luna frowns, her fingers twitching, and oh my fucking gods she’s still touching me.

I have to fix this. I do the absolute worst thing possible.

I turn to her, wide-eyed, and with all the confidence of a man who has just absolutely lost his entire fucking mind, I say, “So, uh. You like what you feel?”

Immediate regret. Immediate.

Luna’s eyes go flat.

Elias. You dumb, dumb bastard.

Then her grip tightens, and for half a second, I think maybe, she’s about to entertain my nonsense. But no. Instead, she leans in slightly, voice as sweet as poison.

“I was bracing for survival,” she purrs. “Not appreciating the ride.”

I make a noise like I want to die voluntarily.

And then, she lets go. Just releases me entirely, sits up, and fixes her hair like she didn’t just ruin me, like she didn’t just send my neurons into absolute, devastating chaos.

Lucien mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like fucking disgraceful.

I swallow, straighten, and very maturely refuse to acknowledge the fact that I am still malfunctioning on every level.

Instead, I shake the reins, clear my throat, and attempt to salvage whatever shreds of dignity I might still have.

“Cool, cool,” I say. “Not offended. Happens a lot.”

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