They all look at me like I’ve said the forbidden thing, the one none of them wants to believe. But I know Theo. Wealldo. The first time he learned what his sin could do, he nearly broke Ambrose. Not with fists. Withneed.With craving sharpened to obsession. He doesn’t seduce. Heconsumes.

And he wants Luna.

He wantsourLuna.

Lucien finally stops pacing. “We tell her the truth.”

I arch a brow. “The whole truth?”

He doesn’t answer. Because some parts of the past aren’t just locked away. They’re buried.

And Theo’s already got a shovel.

Orin’s voice cuts through the room like it always does, quiet, unhurried, absolute.

“It won’t matter.”

We all turn to him. He doesn’t need to raise his voice; it lands like stone anyway.

“You tell her everything,” he continues, gaze sweeping across us, “and all you’ll do is make Theo more than a broken relic from a forgotten war. You’ll paint him as something wounded. Somethingreal.” His eyes are narrow, not cruel, not judgmental. Justknowing. “And she’s never been able to turn away from something that bleeds.”

My gut knots. Because he’s right, and I fucking hate that he’s right.

“She’s not stupid,” Riven growls.

“No,” Orin agrees, “she’sempathetic.There’s a difference.” He shifts, just slightly, like even standing still too long weighs heavier these days. “Theo’s banking on it. He’s already shaping the narrative, not as a threat, not even as a temptation. As acause.Something she can fix, protect,save.”

Silas groans and flops backward over the bench. “This is why I told her not to read all those tragic romance novels. Iknewthis would happen. Next thing you know, he’s dying dramatically on our fucking porch and she’s weeping into his hair while we all stand there like decorative throw pillows.”

“Not helpful,” Lucien snaps.

“But accurate,” Ambrose mutters.

Orin presses on, like none of them interrupted. “You think telling her about the things Theo did, what he made us feel, what we had todoto stop him, is going to change the trajectory?” His gaze pins Lucien now, harder than I’ve ever seen. “All she’ll hear is that we left someone behind. That we condemned him without giving him the same chance we gave each other.”

Lucien’s jaw flexes. He doesn’t answer. Because Orin just carved out the deepest truth we’ve all been trying not to look at.

We forgave each other. Time and time again. Through fire and betrayal and fury that nearly shattered us. We bled together, rebuilt together. But Theo… we exiled. Not because he wasworse, though maybe he was, but because he made us see parts of ourselves we weren’t ready to face.

And now Luna, with all her softness and steel, her conviction wrapped in compassion…

She’s going to see him.

Seehim.

And that’s what terrifies me most.

“She won’t fall for him,” Elias says suddenly. Quiet, but firm. His eyes are dark, more serious than I’m used to. “She’s ours. That doesn’t change.”

“No,” Orin says again, softly this time, like a warning whispered in an old language. “But that doesn’t mean she won’ttryto carry him.”

I run a hand through my hair, the kind of frustrated drag that makes my scalp burn. “She’s not a savior. She’s not some wide-eyed thing looking to fix broken boys.”

Orin’s gaze meets mine. Steady. Patient. Deadly honest.

“No. But sheisthe one who made sinners into something more. And Theo knows that.”

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s weighted with inevitability.