Page 203 of The Sin Binder's Vow

Because I don’t want to. Not yet.

She rises without ceremony, stretching like a cat, casual and lethal in the same breath. “Don’t let Silas see it. He’ll crop himself in and send it to the press.”

“There is no press.”

“He’ll make one,” she tosses over her shoulder, already heading for the door.

The moment stretches once she’s gone. I let my head fall back against the wall, phone in hand. The picture glows up at me like a reminder, like a threat. The kind I might welcome.

Luna.

Always soft. Never harmless. And now she’s in my phone.

Worse—she’s in my goddamn background.

Luna

My knees hit the marble and the sound echoes, too loud, too real, like the world has tilted just to slam me into it. The pain isn’t vague—it’s targeted. Precise. A blade, red-hot and cruel, lodged right through the softest part of me. I don’t scream. I can’t. My body won’t let me. It just folds, trembling and silent, as the magic inside me riots—snapping outward like lightning trying to find ground.

I taste copper.

And then—voices.

They aren’t near, not yet. But Ifeelthem. Elias’s curse punches through the air first, sharp and strangled, the bond between us flaring like a livewire touched to water. Then Riven’s voice, ragged and enraged, calling my name like he could drag me back with it. Silas—he’s alreadyrunning, the sound of him coming like a small storm down the corridor, yelling for someone to get out of his way or he’ll make them regret ever existing.

I didn’t call them. Not on purpose.

But I must’ve dropped the wall. Opened everything.

The bonds are flaring. All of them. And I’m laid out like a beacon.

Silas is the first to reach me—skids into a crouch so fast he nearly crashes into the wall. His hands are on me instantly, one cupping my face, the other pressing against my heart like he could claw the pain out of my chest himself.

“Luna—fuck—what happened, baby, talk to me—”

Elias barrels in next, drops beside me on the other side. No snark. No joke. Justpanic, pure and cold in his silver eyes. His hands hover uselessly for a second before he pulls mine into his lap and starts muttering curses under his breath, frantic and sharp like a prayer offered to the wrong gods.

Riven doesn’t speak when he gets to me. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong.

He just drops to his knees behind me and pulls me into him, his arms caging me like the world might try to steal me out of his hold. His breath is hot against my temple, his heartbeat a hammer in his chest. He presses his forehead to mine, not saying a word. But the bond between us sings so loud it drowns out everything else.

Silas whispers something I don’t catch. Elias runs his fingers down my spine like he's trying to calm a wild thing. And Riven—Riven just holds me tighter every time my body shudders.

And somewhere under it all, beneath the pain and the pounding of three hearts that are bound to mine, I realize—This wasn’t just magic. This was amessage. Something’s coming. Or maybe… somethingis here.

My breath rattles in my chest as the pain drags its last claw through my ribs, then vanishes. Not a fade. Not a slow retreat. Just—gone. Like it had done what it needed to. Left a warning branded into every nerve ending.

I shove off Riven’s chest before he can tighten his grip again, planting a palm on Silas’s shoulder as I push to my feet. I’m dizzy, throat dry from not screaming, and I’m still vibrating with the aftershock of pain—but I know where it’s coming from now. I canfeelit, pulsing like a heartbeat not mine.

“The pillar,” I breathe, already walking.

Elias moves first, tugging on Silas’s hoodie to yank him along. Riven is a shadow at my side, steps perfectly matched to minelike he’s ready to anchor me again the second I falter. Ambrose lingers behind, slower, like he’s already reading whatever scene we’re about to step into. Like he’s seen it in a dream. Or a memory.

We move through the cracked halls of Daemon Academy like revenants—drawn forward by something deeper than instinct. Magic clings to the walls now, the kind that wasn’t always there. It’s in the shadows. The stone. In the bones of this place. The Hollow never left—it simply learned how to hide.

The courtyard opens up in front of us, moonlight bleeding across the stone. And there it is.

The pillar.

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