Page 93 of The Sin Binder's Chains

Orin follows, fluid and unshaken, wise and waiting, always watching with too much knowledge and not enough urgency.

And I, gods help me, I follow too. Because fuck that.

I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I do know one thing: Severin is already pissed. And I love that for him. His gaze snaps to us immediately, but not because of us. Because of who’s behind us.

I can feel him trying to look past, trying to see her, his Sin-Binder.

Layla.

And I know that because I recognize it. The way a man hungers for something he thinks should already be his. The way power makes people stupid.

I let my lips pull into something lazy, something mocking. "Something wrong?"

Severin’s gaze flicks to me.

It’s fast. Subtle.

But not fast enough.

Because I caught it.

And now he knows that I know.

And I love that even more.

Lucien speaks before Severin can, his voice as smooth and cold as a blade being drawn from silk. "Severin."

That’s it.

No title. No insult. No respect.

Severin exhales through his nose, slow and measured, barely masking his irritation. "Lucien."

A pause. A slow shift of weight.

"Move."

Lucien does not move. Orin does not move. And neither do I.

Because fuck you.

"I don’t think we will," I say pleasantly. "But thank you for asking so politely."

Vaelrik chuckles under his breath, rolling his shoulders like he’s just waiting for this to turn into something bloody.

Severin, however, doesn’t acknowledge me.

Because he’s still trying to see her. And I can’t fucking wait to make him work for it.

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