Page 19 of The Sin Binder's Chains

"Luna?"

I can't answer. I can't even breathe.

Another wave of pain slams into me, carving through my stomach, coiling up my spine like something alive. I double over, barely aware of Elias cursing, barely aware of the way his grip shifts, steadying me, holding me, his hands suddenly frantic as they press against me like he can physically keep me from unraveling.

I choke on another ragged breath, nails digging into his forearm, clutching, because there's nothing else to hold onto, nothing else but the agony roaring through me, scorching through my veins, burning everything in its path.

Riven.

Riven.

I can feel him. The raw, unfiltered wrath pouring into me, through me, the agony of it so blistering, so feral, I can't tell where his pain ends and mine begins.

I feel it, the crack of a fist against bone. The pull of chains, biting deep into torn flesh. The relentless, suffocating pressure of something holding him down. Something breaking him apart.

I convulse against Elias, gasping, body folding in on itself as another scorching lash of pain tears through me.

"Luna, fuck what is happening?" Elias grips me tighter, his voice frantic, sharp, wrong in a way I've never heard before.

But I can't answer. I can't do anything except feel. Pain, raw and constant, rolling through me in waves, every nerve lit up, every muscle locked, helpless against the sheer magnitude of it.

Then suddenly a sharp yank. A pull, a shift, then Lucien. He's there, arms cinching around me, ripping me off the horse, yanking me into him like I'm a fragile, shattering thing.

The impact should knock the breath from my lungs, but there's nothing left to knock out of me. Just pain, just this endless, unrelenting pain, and I collapse into him, body trembling, the heat still spreading, still burning, still consuming me from the inside out.

I force a breath. A jagged, broken inhale.

Then another.

I have to tell them.

“He’s- ” My voice splinters on the word, my throat raw, shaking. “Riven.”

Lucien goes rigid.

Another wave of fire rakes across my ribs, and I arch, a strangled sob tearing free.

“He’s being hurt,” I gasp, shuddering, every syllable a struggle, every word edged with agony. “Tortured.”

Lucien’s arms tighten, like he’s trying to anchor me, like his sheer will alone can keep me from breaking apart beneath it.

"Turn it off," he commands.

I shake my head frantically, or at least, I think I do. The world is spinning, lurching, twisting beneath me, and there’s more fire, more agony, more wrath seeping through the bond.

“I can’t,” I choke out.

Another lash of pain, splitting across my stomach, deeper, sharper, like claws digging into my flesh. Lucien curses, voice harsh, but it’s drowned out by the next wave of agony, by the fire sinking into my bones.

It’s too much.

“Elias.” Lucien’s voice is sharp, a command, and I don’t understand why until I feel Elias’s hands again, gripping me, his palm pressing to my forehead.

I try to fight it. I try to stay here.

But Elias’s voice is low, almost soothing, edged with something too soft, too foreign for him, “Go to sleep, little star.”

And the world goes dark.

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