Chapter 14 Thou Shalt Not Hide From Thy Sins
Thou Shalt Not Hide From Thy Sins
Arwen
Idevour my breakfast like a Glutton who has been on a diet. I’ve missed so many dinners now trying to avoid any bond interactions I’m feeling as fragile as the nurse from Apex Arena made me out to be. The usual chaos of the dining hall is buzzing around me.
The days are getting easier. Brix’s dumb impressions of Instructor Marrik, my study session with Maddox, which included repeating all the ways I could use my ball-point pen in defense in my head, and, of course, curling up with the latest book Professor Gabriel lent me- It’s helping.
It feels normal.
What’s not normal is the cryptic stormcloud that was drawn on my mirror this morning with Holly’s lipstick.
Before Holly could see it, I used my new comforter from the academy store to wipe it off.
The last thing I need is her thinking I’m insane.
I don’t know who is messing with me, but silly drawings are very low on my problem list.
I’m not good as new; I guess I never was… But I’m not cracked in half anymore either. Just patched up with duct tape and sarcasm, which has always been the norm for me.
“Okay, but hear me out,” Brix says around a mouthful of toast, “what if instructor Marrik is secretly a banshee? That would explain the screaming. And the body hair.”
“He doesn’t scream,” Holly says, rolling her eyes. “He projects authority. Loudly. Into your face.”
“He’s Wrath and a combat instructor,” I add, managing a genuine smile. “Being terrifying is his brand.”
In between laughs, I reach for my cinnamon bun—the only food item left on my tray — and notice Brix watching me. Not in a strange way. Just... looking. Like he had yesterday too.
“You alright?” he asks softly, just for me.
I nod. “Better.”
He nudges my shoulder with his. Just once. Warm. Steady. It’s comforting.
“I don’t believe you, but I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he whispers to me.
Holly launches into a dramatic retelling of a student who accidentally lit their pants on fire during sin training.
Sly keeps jumping in with wild commentary, not letting her finish a sentence.
Brix acts out the entire scene with his bacon like finger puppets, complete with squeaky voices and exaggerated gasps.
I laugh, an actual laugh, and for once it doesn’t feel like something I have to fake. These moments with my new friends are what I live for.
My attention is snapped away when I feel a familiar tingle.
That sharp prickle on the back of my neck, like static crawling across my skin. My eyes drift across the dining hall, past the buzz of other tables and the clatter of half-eaten breakfasts—and land on Atticus. The only one of my bonds who seems to eat in this dining hall.
He’s leaning against a column near the archway, surrounded by a small group of his friends. But he’s watching me again.
His jaw flexes once. The muscle ticks, then stills. His eyes stay locked on me—flat, dark, calculating. A tiny crease carves between his brows, like I’m a riddle whose rules won’t stop shifting.
Whatever it is, it curls tight and sharp in my chest. My hand stills around my fork.
And just like that, he’s looking anywhere but at me—table, wall, ceiling—like the air got too honest between us.
And me?
My stomach knots. My face a little hot.
Asshole.
What is his problem? Still mad I talked to Maddox? Or is he just always that much of a jerk? Maybe he’s pissed that I’m sitting here with people who don’t make me feel like garbage. People who don’t break me apart with a single sentence.
The tug in my chest is replaced by white, fiery rage remembering how he let Daphne torture me with her powers and humiliate me like I was nothing.
He doesn’t get to look at me like that.
I turn back to my friends and force the tension out of my shoulders.
Let him brood over there like a morally ambiguous statue. I have better things to do—like surviving another day as a sinless Wrath. Like laughing with the people who actually like me. Like maybe letting myself enjoy the way Brix leans in just a little closer when I laugh.
And for now, that’s enough.
***
I tug my bag higher on my shoulder as I head back to the dorms, boots tapping a lazy rhythm across the stone hallways. The last class of the day is over, and all I want is my comfiest pajamas, and maybe to pretend this entire week didn’t happen.
I feel the annoying pull again. These are seriously getting inconvenient. This isn’t normal. I rarely felt my bonds here.
One of them is close.
I stop, step to the side and scan the hall. It’s empty; students scattered like afterthoughts as they rush off to their rooms or next obligations. No one’s looking at me. But something is….
A muffled scream tries to escape my mouth, which is now covered by a large hand.
I’m yanked- another firm hand snatches my wrist and pulls me through the half-cracked door of an empty classroom. I stumble forward, slamming into solid heat.
“Easy there,” a voice purrs, low and velvet-smooth. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart.”
I look up and freeze.
A familiar tall Lust is towering over me. His skin is golden, hair a mess of dirty blond curls, wild and perfect. And his lips—plush and maddening. The universe is a deeply indulgent entity for creating him.
Heat. Pull. Gravity. I feel all of it as his bright green eyes gaze down at me. Putting me in a trance… until I realize his hand is still over my mouth.
Alexi Zevalli. The Lust Holly pointed out on my first day. He’s my unknown fourth bond…
My stomach drops. My pulse races.
“I knew it was you,” he says.
He tilts his head like he’s figuring out how to eat me alive without using his teeth. “Felt it the second you walked past me.”
I step back, creating space between us. “You shouldn’t have pulled me in here.”
His grin spreads, slow and deliberate. Oh, great. He thinks this is flirting.
“Would’ve said hello in the hall, but… I figured this needed privacy.”
“Privacy?” I echo, already regretting being alone with him.
His fingers brush my arm, and it’s like lightning races up my skin. I flinch.
He notices my reaction and smirks. “So… you’re real.”
I nod, jaw tight. “Yeah. I felt it too. The bond. But…”
I take a breath. “I already know that citizens from Lust Factions don’t bond. We don’t have to do anything about it. I’m sure it’s just a strange anomaly.”
He continues skimming his fingertips along my arm, luring me into a haze. I continue before this can go any further.
“Look, whatever this is—it can’t be anything. And it won’t be. I’m the sinless you’ve probably heard about, and I’m from Wrath. If anyone finds out, one of us will get kicked out of the academy. Please. We can pretend this never happened.”
His grin fades, just a little. His gaze sharpens. “Pretend?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
He steps closer again, slower this time, and I can feel his heat radiating through the air. My heart’s beating so loud that I swear he can hear it.
“You want to pretend this—” he brushes his fingers against my collarbone “—doesn’t exist?”
I swallow. Hard. “Y - Yes.”
He exhales, a soft sound of disbelief. “I’ve been starving for you.”
His bright green eyes look more like poison as he gets frustrated. “Do you know what it’s like for someone like me to feel actual passion for a bond? Real, raw need—born from a connection, not my power? I’ve had everyone, Arwen. But none of them has made me feel like this.”
I hate the way my name sounds in his mouth. Like a promise and a threat all at once.
And I hate the way he says he has had everyone. My bond struggles to break free from my control and claw his eyes out.
“It’s statistically impossible to have had everyone,” I grit out.
Definitely not saying that to comfort my bruised bond.
“And I don’t even know you,” I say, backing until I hit the desk behind me. “And I don’t want to. Not like this.”
His eyes flicker with something darker. “Alexi,” he says, low and smooth. “You should at least know my name before you break my heart.”
“That assumes you have one.” I counter back.
He laughs—genuine and annoyingly charming. “See? That’s what makes this fun. I don’t know how you do it. Your resistance. This sass you have. You’re a challenge.”
“Not fun for me.”
He leans in, lips brushing close to my ear. “Maybe… if you’re that worried about keeping your little secret... you should consider my offer.”
My stomach twists. “What offer?”
“I get what I want, you stay protected and in the academy. I have connections, Arwen.” His lips graze my ear as his hand skims down my back. His voice lowers.
I don’t know what he wants, but I can’t assume it's anything good if he’s using it as a bargaining chip.
“No,” I say, crossing my arms between us to get a little distance.
For a moment, his composure fails. I can tell he’s not used to hearing no regarding any of his wants.
His lip snarls as he leans closer to my ear. “I mean, if someone had to go… who do you think they’d keep? A sinless nobody? Or me — a power Lust hasn’t seen in a generation?”
I shove him. Hard. “Screw you.”
He lets me push past him without a fight, just watching with a glint of wicked amusement in his eye.
I tear down the hallway, vision blurring. No one sees me slip into my dorm room. No one hears the lock click.
And no one’s there when I collapse against the door, the sob ripping from my chest like something I’ve been holding in for too damn long.
I’m a Wrath. We burn, we don’t break.
But right now?
Right now, I feel cracked straight through.
I swipe at my cheeks so fast it’s like I’m trying to erase the evidence, not tears. My breath still jerks in these embarrassing little hiccups, and my heart’s been sprinting a marathon ever since I slammed the door behind me like that could keep the whole world out.
“Arwen?”
I freeze.
My head snaps up—and Holly’s there. Standing at the foot of her bed, eyes wide, hands raised like she’s not sure if I’ll bolt or crumble.