Page 36 of The Sin Binders Ascent

“You think she won’t change,” Lucien finally says, voice rougher than I’ve heard in years. “Butwe’realready changing. Because he’shere.Because we’reafraid.”

“Shewillchange,” Orin replies, and it’s the first time his voice falters, just slightly. “That’s what love does. It grows. Evolves. You don’t stay the same when you share yourself with someone. But Luna’s never loved small. Not once. She’ll make more room. That’s who she is.”

I want to believe him. Gods, Iwantto. But that doesn’t erase the raw truth clawing under my skin.

“Desire doesn’taskfor room,” I say bitterly. “Itdevoursit.”

Orin just nods.

“And that’s why she needs all of us more than ever.”

He steps back, as if giving us space to process the inevitability.

“Because if he gets inside her head, it’s not his voice that will echo there, it’sours.If we’ve done this right. If we’ve loved her like we claim to.”

Riven slams his fist into the wall, and no one flinches. The crack spiderwebs through the drywall, but it doesn’t release any of the fire in him.

“She shouldn’t have to carry that weight,” he growls.

“No,” Orin agrees, soft again. “But she’s notcarryingit, Riven. Shechoseit.”

And we, all of us, choseher.

Now we just have to decide what kind of men we become when the story stops following our rules.

Luna

The scent of citrus and rosewood still clings to my skin from the bath I took an hour ago, but it does nothing to strip the pressure coating my chest, the weight ofthem.

I can’t move through the house without brushing into one of them. Lucien’s lingering stares from across the hall like he’s memorizing every blink. Riven’s body always angled just between me and Theo like a blade held under velvet. Elias following me into rooms he has no business being in, cracking jokes that fall flat, the humor stretched thin under something twitchy. Even Orin, who’s usually a sanctuary, watches me like I might disappear into smoke.

I love them. Gods, Ichosethem. Over and over, for thirty years, through blood and fire and the kind of pain that leaves scars on your soul. But right now, I don’t feel trusted.

I feel cornered. And that’s what pisses me off more than anything.

It’s not Theo. He’s an issue, sure, an arrogant, blue-eyed bastard who walks around like the whole world owes him a second chance, and I’m supposed to be the one to give it to him. But he’s not mytemptation. He’s just a complication.

It’sthemthat are starting to unravel me.

Like if I breathe wrong, if I so much aslookat Theo with anything other than derision, one of them is going to combust.Silas, who keeps making noise just to be near me, looping around me like some unhinged satellite. Caspian, whose smirks have dulled, whose flirtation feels less like play and more like awarning. Even Ambrose has started appearing in doorways like a ghost, calm, calculating, always watching. Like they think Theo’s presence is enough to rewrite thirty fucking years of love, loyalty, war.

It’s not. And the fact that they can’tseethat, can’t separate their fear from my agency, cuts deeper than I want to admit.

I step into the garden, hoping for air, only to find Riven standing sentinel by the gate like a goddamn statue. His eyes scan the path, then settle on me, jaw flexing.

“Don’t,” I say before he can speak.

His brow furrows. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t ask if I’ve seen him. Don’t follow me out here like I can’t handle myself.”

Riven’s arms cross over his chest, the gray in his eyes stormy. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“No,” I say, stepping closer, “but I know whatI’mcapable of. Or have you all forgotten that I’ve bled for this house just as much as you have?”

Riven’s silence burns more than a scream.

Behind me, the door creaks open. I don’t need to turn to know who it is. Caspian’s presence slides into the garden like silk over steel, his amusement wrapped tight around something darker.

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