Page 79 of The Sin Binder's Vow

I close my eyes. Breathe in. Count back from ten in a tongue no one remembers anymore. It still doesn’t silence her. Nothing ever has.

Lucien shifts beside me. “You’re quiet.”

I open my eyes but don’t turn to him. “You’re loud enough for both of us.”

There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes—amusement, maybe. But it dies before it settles. He leans forward, elbows on knees, staring into the fire like it might rearrange its flames into a future we can survive.

“She’s pushing harder,” I murmur, just for him.

Lucien’s jaw ticks. “I know.”

“She’s promising you freedom?”

“Among other things.”

I nod. “And what are you promising her?”

Lucien doesn’t answer.

Across the fire, Elias is trying to balance a dagger on the bridge of his nose while Silas offers increasingly idiotic commentary like he’s narrating a sport no one wants to watch. Luna sits between them, arms folded, expression unreadable.

She hasn’t looked at either of us since we sat down. That’s punishment enough.

“She’s playing on the bond,” I say softly. “Testing where the cracks are.”

“She won’t find them in me.”

“She already has.”

He looks at me then, sharp and cold, and I let it hit me. Lucien needs enemies. It’s how he survives. I’ve played that role before. I’ll do it again if it keeps him steady.

“She’s not getting the girl,” he says.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it?

That’s the piece none of them see clearly yet. Not even him.

Branwen doesn’t need togetLuna. She only needs one of us to bring her close enough.

I glance back toward her, where she’s now leaning into Elias, eyes half-lidded, lips curved in the ghost of a smile meant to hurt someone—maybe herself.

Lucien follows my gaze. “She’s drunk.”

“No. She’s pretending.”

He watches her a beat longer, then stands. “I need air.”

“You need time,” I say, voice low. “But you won’t get it.”

Lucien’s gone before I finish.

And Luna looks at me.

No smile. No words. Just that stare—ancient and knowing and far too young all at once. She sees through all of it. Me. Lucien. The lies. The plans. The way this ends.

I nod once.

She tears tiny pieces from the bread in her hand and feeds them to the flames like she’s offering something to a god she no longer believes in.

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