Page 28 of The Sin Binder's Chains

“…Can I help you?”

Her voice is smooth. Not as sharp as Luna’s, not honed for defiance, but carrying the potential for it.

I exhale, shifting slightly, aware that everything about me in this moment, the way I look, the way I stand, the way I am, too still for something that calls itself a man, is setting off every internal alarm she has.

And she should listen to them. Because I am here to ruin her life.

"Layla Evernight," I say, voice even, steady. "I need you to come with me."

Her brows flick up, surprise flashing across her face before she recovers, her lips pressing tighter. She crosses her arms, weight shifting, grounding herself.

"That’s funny," she says slowly. "Because I don’t know you, and that sounds like exactly what a serial killer would say before I end up on a true crime podcast."

A pause. Then, almost like an afterthought, “Also, I don’t get into cars with strange men, so you might want to rethink your approach here, creep.”

I blink. Then I nearly laugh. Because she is exactly like Luna in the worst fucking ways.

I roll my shoulders, inhaling deeply, my patience stretching thin. "You’re right. That was poorly phrased."

Her eyes narrow.

I tilt my head. "Would it help if I said your world is about to collapse, you are not who you think you are, and I am here to offer you the smallest semblance of control before the choice is ripped from you entirely?"

She stares at me.

Then, slow and deliberate, she clicks her tongue against her teeth. "Yeah, so much better,” she deadpans. “Now I feel safe."

I exhale sharply, my fingers curling at my sides. "I don’t have time for this."

"Then go away," she suggests brightly.

I step forward, just slightly, enough to let my presence scrape against her senses. Not enough to hurt, not enough to force, just enough for her to feel it. The weight of what I am.

She inhales sharply. Her pupils dilate. She knows. She doesn’t understand how she knows, but her body reacts before her mind does, that primal, ancient instinct flickering in her bones.

I drop my voice, low, steady, inevitable.

"You can argue with me," I murmur. "Or you can listen."

She swallows, but she doesn’t speak. So I give her the truth.

"Your sister is in the Void," I say, slow and careful, watching the way the words hit her. "And Lucien Virelius sent me here to collect you. Because if we are wrong, if you are not the one meant to bind the Sub-Sins, then Luna is the only one left. And if she fails…"

I let the silence say the rest.

Layla’s breath shudders. Her fingers flex against the doorframe.

And I see it, the shift. The moment she realizes this isn’t a joke. That something larger than her life is waiting just outside the walls she thought were safe.

She stares at me for a long time, her throat bobbing once.

"Who are you?"

I watch her, holding her gaze.

"My name is Orin Vale. And I am here to rewrite your fate."

Layla takes a step back. It’s slight, almost imperceptible, but I catch it. The way her fingers tighten on the doorframe, the way her weight shifts, preparing to bolt. Good instincts. But not good enough. She’s staring at me like she’s already decided what I am, dangerous, unnatural, something that should never have made it to her doorstep.

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