Page 122 of A Sin So Pure

“That some kind of new dance the younglings are doing nowadays?” Sloth’s gruff voice calls from behind me, making me startle.

“You’re even earlier than normal,” I say, letting a warm smile spread across my face as I turn to the old man.

He grunts, gripping the head of his cane and tapping the thing on the floor as he hobbles past.

“My gut says this meeting will be important. There’s something in the air, old magic stirring,” he says.

“Is it?” I ask, humoring the old fae.

He sits with a groan.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he says, resting his cane against the arm of his chair.

“Then retire,” I quip, a smirk pulling at my lips as I take my own seat.

“Can’t leave you younglings to yourself. It’s chaos as it is,” he says. “You’ll see me retired when I hit the Fading and no sooner.”

“You’re fading?” Envy says, strolling into the room. “So soon? A pity.”

“Hold your tongue, boy,” Sloth replies.

I roll my eyes, letting the two banter back and forth. Envy loves to poke at everyone without a care for his own safety.

He thinks it makes him brave. I think it makes him stupid.

Envy is also clearly hungover; his mostly unbuttoned shirt is wrinkled, with the sleeves pushed to his elbows rather than rolled. His hair, that he keeps pushing back with one hand, falls in limp strands, lacking its usual volume and wave. And when he pulls his cup to his lips, it’s water flowing over the rim, not alcohol.

Heneverhas water at these meetings.

“Have a headache, Envy?” I ask.

He shoots me a glare. “And if I do?”

I shrug, my confidence waning.

“Just curious,” I say.

My eyes drift across the room, landing on the doors. It’s been ten minutes since I was with either Josie, Leo, or Nora. I haven’t been without one of them since the accident. And while I’m not alone—Envy and Sloth’s presence do little to quell the strange energy that fills me.

My hands are suddenly clammy, and when I rub them on my dress, the fabric itches my skin. I bite my bottom lip, my teeth worrying the skin there until I feel the metallic edge of it ripping open.

The doors open, and I suck in a relieved breath. Though disappointment strikes me.

Greed is on time, for once. He and Gluttony stride in side by side to take their seats. Gluttony is in a beaded white dress that falls to mid-calf; the crystal embroidery sends rainbow specks across the room. Meanwhile, Greed is in a simple black three-piece suit.

Then finally, Nora arrives, and my teeth stop gnawing at my lip.

But instead of walking through the door, she steps from a swirling mass of shadows with Wrath and Silas. Wrath strides through first, heading directly for his seat.

As Silas and Nora step through, he keeps his hand placed firmly on her lower back until the shadows fully dissipate. My eyes narrow at the contact point.

There’s something in the way he touches her that sets me on edge. It’s possessive. I know because Nora’s touched me the same way.

A lazy, smug smile stretches across his face.

Nora, unaware—or simply unfazed—steps out of his hold and walks to her seat with as much purpose as Wrath. She shucks off her jacket, not caring that snow falls off it and makes puddles at her feet. Draping it over the back of her chair, she sits.

Her hand finds my thigh under the table and squeezes.

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