Page 87 of The Sin Binders Ascent

He grins wider. “You’re welcome.”

But the weight pressing down on my chest lifts just enough for me to draw a real breath, and I hate that it’s him who gave me that sliver of air. Because he’s still smug. Still obnoxious. Still chained to me like a cosmic joke with teeth. But he’s also the only warmth I’ve got right now.

And I hate that even more.

I glance at him, intending only to glare, to shoot off some dry insult that’ll shut him up for five seconds.

But then Iseehim.

Not just the smirk or the cocky lean of his body. Not the lazy drawl he uses like a weapon or the too-blue eyes that spark every time he gets under my skin. No, I see the cut of his jaw, the way his dark hair curls around his ears in soft, careless waves, damp from the river. The hollow beneath his throat. The long fingers picking at a rock like he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting for me to react.

And gods, he is hot.

Infuriatingly, obscenely hot. He’s the kind of beautiful that’s almost offensive. Like the world overdid it and justkept going, sculpting him with a hunger that didn’t know when to stop. I don’t know how I missed it before, or maybe I didn’t. Maybe I refused to let myselfseeit because acknowledging it meant opening a door I’d already padlocked shut.

One side of his mouth curves higher. There. A dimple. A stupid, criminally unfair dimple tucked into that arrogant smirk, and it’s not just cute, it’s devastating.

How the hell have I not noticed that before? Maybe it’s because he’s been pissing me off since the second Blackwell cuffed us together. Maybe I’ve been too busy hating how close he always is, how much space he takes up, how his magictasteslike mine when I get too near him. Or maybe it’s because this is the first time we’ve been still, quiet enough for me to stop bracing for the next verbal jab or wild, otherworldly disaster.

He doesn’t look at me, but he must feel the shift in my stare. He goes perfectly still, like he knows something in me just tilted, slid into place, and now I can’t stop seeing him.

His lashes are long. Unfairly so. His lips are full and curled with so much smugness, I should hate it. But gods help me, it’s kind of… charming. Not in a polished, practiced way. It’s rougher than that. Lopsided and too real. Like, he doesn’t care if I catch him beingthisversion of himself. The ridiculous, self-satisfied bastard who dragged me out of a hell-river and is now smug enough to list his best features without irony.

My stomach does something itshould notbe doing. A flutter, traitorous and warm, right beneath my ribs. Heat creeps up the back of my neck, and I look away fast, digging my fingers back into the damp earth beside me, hoping the cold will burn the thought out of me.

Because Desire is watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I think he knows.

I think hefeelsit.

My mouth starts moving before my brain catches up.

“There’s something off about this dirt,” I say, way too loud, rubbing it between my fingers like I’ve suddenly become an expert in soil composition. “It’s almost too dry, even though everything’s wet. Which makes no sense. Maybe it’s volcanic. Or cursed. Wouldn’t surprise me. Everything else here feels cursed.”

Theo doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him watching me. His gaze presses into my skin like a too-warm hand. My heart stumbles over itself. I keep going.

“And the trees? Who the hell needs trees that big? It’s just showing off at this point. Like, we get it, you’re unnatural and terrifying. Calm down.” I flick a piece of bark away. “And don’t even get me started on those bugs. I’ve got bites in places that should never be bitten.”

Still nothing from him. Just that quiet amusement that radiates from his side of the cave like smoke I can’t get away from.

I clear my throat. “You snore, by the way. I meant to mention that earlier. Loud. Like a dying walrus.”

His shoulders shake a little. A laugh, held in just long enough to make me hate him more.

“I mean, you’re the worst. You talk too much. You think you’re funny, but you’re not. That thing you do with your eyebrow? Not charming. Just makes you look like you’re having a stroke.”

My voice wobbles on that last word, and I clench my hands tighter around a rock I’ve dug half out of the ground. I can’t stop. Ineedto keep talking.

“Also, your hair’s too perfect. No one should have hair that perfect after nearly drowning. It’s suspicious. Probablydemonic. Probably has its own cult. And your smile? Don’t get me started. Who smiles like that? People with secrets, that’s who.”

I glance up. He hasn’t moved, but there’s something in his expression that makes my mouth go dry. His dimples are back, faint but taunting. And his eyes, those oceanstorm blue eyes, aresoft. Not smug. Not teasing. Just quietly, devastatingly aware.

And now I’m flusteredandguilty. It’s not supposed to feel like this. I’m not supposed to be… noticing. I’m not supposed to let warmth slip in where fury lived. I love my guys. Ido. Every one of them is carved into me like runes into bone, ancient and sacred and binding. This shouldn’t even be a question. But I’m cold and tired and cut off and…

He saved me.

Hehadto save me. He’s chained to me. That’s all it was. Survival. Logic. Proximity. Except I know it wasn’t. Not really.

I don’t know what to do with that. So I keep talking, spinning words like armor, trying to bury the truth of what I’m starting to feel beneath layers of sarcasm and noise. Maybe if I’m loud enough, it’ll drown the heartbeat in my throat. Maybe if I focus on all the things I hate, I won’t fall harder for the one thing I shouldn’t want.

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