Page 71 of The Sin Binder's Vow

“But if you’re asking if you’re enough?” he leans in, voice breaking into something raw, something jagged. “You’retoo much.You’re all of it. I don’t look at you and wonder what else is out there. I look at you and wonder how I got this lucky before the world rips it away from me.”

I’m trembling. I don’t know when that started.

And finally, finally, he touches me. Just one hand. Brushing against my cheek. Tender. Steady. Real.

“I’m yours,” he says. “Fully. Even when I’m being a dumbass.”

I don’t trust myself to speak. I just step into him, bury my face in his chest, and let him hold me. Not possessively. Not with fire. Just—hold.

Maybe love isn’t about choosing. Maybe it’s about surrender. And I’m so goddamn tired of fighting.

His heartbeat under my ear is steady, warm, distracting. I should pull away, should remind myself we’re still in a village we don’t trust, at a festival we didn’t plan for, with danger slithering just beneath the surface. But gods, he feels good. He always does.

His arms tighten around me, and for a breath, I let myself pretend that this is enough. That the world will wait.

Then he ruins it.

“You know,” Elias murmurs into my hair, “this would be the perfect time to get naked.”

I freeze. My spine goes rigid against his chest.

I pull back, just far enough to glare at him. “Elias.”

“What?” His grin is unapologetic, all teeth and dimples. “I’m just saying—emotional intimacy? Check. Quiet corner? Check. Your body already pressed against mine? Double check. All the signs point to naked.”

“You areunbelievable,” I mutter, shoving at his shoulder—but he doesn’t budge.

“Oh, I’m very believable,” he says, voice dropping to that too-smooth cadence that always spells trouble. “Believably hot. Believably ready. Believably yours.”

“You werethisclose,” I say, holding my fingers a breath apart. “This close to being romantic.”

He tilts his head, considering. “So what you’re saying is… I need to wait untilafterthe emotionally vulnerable part next time before suggesting sex?”

“I’m saying—” I start, then stop, because whatamI saying? That I want him to stop? Not a chance. That I want him to mean it less? Definitely not. That I want him to be someone else entirely? No. No, gods, no.

“You’re saying you love me,” he says, too pleased with himself.

“I’m saying I will stab you with the tiny fork in my boot if you say one more word.”

“Hot.”

I shove him harder this time, and he laughs, finally stepping back, still watching me like I’m the only thing worth watching. There’s that look again. The one he only gives me. And suddenly, I don’t feel so foolish for needing to hear it out loud earlier.

The sound of the festival begins to creep back in, and with it, the others.

Elias gestures toward the crowd. “Come on, chaos princess. If we stay hidden much longer, Silas is going to start juggling flaming barrels just to find us.”

I smirk. “You say that like it wouldn’t be kind of entertaining.”

“Oh, it would be. Until he sets Riven’s coat on fire.”

I sigh. “Again?”

“Every damn time.”

As we step back toward the square, the magic threading the village feels… different. Not darker. Not yet. But the kind of shift that warns of something approaching. The calm before it curls its claws.

I press closer to Elias. He doesn’t make a joke this time. He just walks beside me. Quiet, solid, silver-eyed and ridiculous and mine.

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