Page 186 of The Sin Binder's Chains

Severin’s eyes darken.

“And you’re going to let them,” she gestures toward me, toward Lucien, “get out of the Hollow.”

There’s silence.

Real silence.

The kind that dares someone to blink first.

I stare at her. She’s shaking. I can see it now, barely, but it’s there. But gods, she holds it together like iron wrapped in silk. And it’s that softness, that impossible composure, that makes Severin hesitate.

He wants her.

But the pull?

That’s different.

That’s deeper.

And it’s already got him by the throat.

Lucien leans toward me, voice low. “She’s either going to reign or ruin.”

“She’ll do both,” I mutter back.

Finally, Severin smiles again. Slower this time. Less polished. Less sure.

“Very well,” he says. “You’ll be fed. You’ll be given a room. And your companions will leave unharmed.”

Layla exhales. Not relief. Just confirmation.

She steps forward, passing him without ceremony. “Good,” she says. “Because I don’t negotiate with things already half mine.”

And fuck me, he lets her pass.

She doesn’t look back. Not at Severin. Not at us. She just walks into the ruins like she owns them already.

And then, mid-step, she stops.

Turns.

Her gaze lands on Soren. And the silence that follows has teeth. Soren’s grin is already halfway there, cocked and ready like it always is, lazy, lethal, half-lidded smugness. The kind of look that says he knows exactly how sharp he is, and exactly how pretty that makes his cruelty.

But then Layla lifts her hand.

Points.

“You,” she says, voice flat. Commanding.

Soren’s grin falters. Only slightly, but it’s enough.

She doesn’t wait for him to respond. Doesn’t give him the space to hide behind that charming sociopathy he wears like armor.

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

The words hit like a slap. Not loud. Just true.

Soren’s brows twitch. Confusion flickers, fast, and for the first time, he looks, uncertain.

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