Severino blinks, vision hazy as the soft glow of Narra's chambers comes into focus. Her arm lies heavy across his chest, her body warm against his. It's a scene he's relived countless times. Years, it feels like—time blurring in this place. He's long lost track of the days since he first ventured into the forest to find her, the diwata responsible for the endless storms plaguing his village.

Flickering candlelight casts shadows along the stone walls, and the room is filled with the scents of flowers and earth. But today, something feels off. His mind is clearer—just for a moment—a flicker of himself beyond the spell she's woven.

He shifts slightly, careful not to wake her, but Narra stirs anyway, her senses sharp even in sleep. Her eyes open, and she smiles, satisfied, as she tightens her hold.

"Awake already?" she murmurs, her voice soft and honeyed. "You must be tired... rest a little longer, my love."

Severino's heart races as the weight of reality crashes over him. His body might be trapped in this ageless limbo, but his mind is still fighting, still searching for a way out. He has to finish the dagger—to break free. But not yet. Not now. He can't let her see.

Narra rests her head on his shoulder, tracing slow, languid circles over his chest, eyes half-lidded in the dim light. "You've been restless," she whispers, her fingers tightening possessively. "Is something troubling you?"

Severino swallows hard, forcing his voice steady. "I—no, Narra. I'm just... thinking."

"About her again?" Her tone sharpens, her grip stiffening. "You still think of her. Adelfa."

He says nothing, but Narra already knows. She always knows when his mind drifts back to the life he left behind, to the woman he truly loved.

"You promised you'd forget her," Narra says, her voice soft but edged with darkness. She shifts closer, her face inches from his, eyes glinting in the firelight. "I told you what would happen if you didn't."

Severino clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to flinch. The threat hangs over him like a noose. She's made it clear from the beginning—if he tried to escape, if he dared even think of leaving, Narra would bring ruin to his village. Adelfa, his sweet Adelfa, would suffer most.

"I remember," he says quietly, a knot tightening in his chest. "I haven't forgotten."

Narra's smile returns, slow and satisfied, though suspicion flickers in her eyes. "Good. I'm not the kind of diwata you want to anger, Severino. You've seen what I'm capable of. What I'll do if you defy me."

Severino closes his eyes, forcing calm over the fear twisting inside him. He's seen it—the storms, the sickness that swept through his village, ending only because she wanted him here.

Narra's fingers trail down his face, her voice turning seductive. "Why resist? We're together now. You belong to me. Just accept it."

He stares up at the stone ceiling, trying to banish thoughts of Adelfa from his mind. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes," Narra purrs, leaning close to press her lips to his neck. "But your heart still resists. I can feel it. You still dream of leaving."

Severino tenses, fists clenching at his sides. He can't deny it; he's been planning, biding his time, crafting a weapon in secret. But Narra... she always seems to know.

"Don't." Her voice turns cold, her hand gripping his chin, forcing his gaze to hers, dark with barely restrained fury. "You know what I'll do if you try to leave. I'll destroy them all. I'll make your precious Adelfa beg for mercy."

Her words send a shiver down his spine, but Severino forces himself to stay calm, to keep his fear hidden. He can't let her see.

"Narra... please," he says softly, his voice almost pleading. "I don't want anyone to suffer. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you."

Her eyes search his face, suspicion lingering. Finally, her grip loosens, and she leans back, her smile softening. "That's right," she whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead in a chillingly tender gesture. "You're mine, Severino. You've always been mine."

He forces a smile, nodding. "Yes... yours."

But even as he speaks, his mind is elsewhere. The dagger. He has to finish it. He has to break free—before it's too late.

Severino waits until Narra drifts back to sleep, her breathing steady beside him. Her magic, though muted for now, lingers in the air, pressing against him like fog. But his mind, just for this moment, is clear.

Carefully, he slips out of her embrace, a skill he's perfected over the years. He retrieves a small pouch hidden beneath a loose stone near the bed—fragments of rare minerals and enchanted materials from a mysterious diwata he once encountered.

The dagger. It's nearly complete, its jagged blade infused with Narra's own magic, siphoned off each time she touches him. He's been patient. He's had to be.

He crosses to a hidden alcove, his makeshift forge buried beneath blankets. Taking the cold hammer in his hand, he raises it high. Tonight is the night.

But as he strikes the blade, a soft chime echoes through the chamber. Each strike is careful, infusing the weapon with the final traces of stolen magic. Time blurs as he works, Narra's magic pressing at him, as though trying to pull him back to her, but he presses on.

The dagger gleams as he holds it up in the faint light, its surface dark and twisted, pulsing with the essence he's stolen. All he needs now is the right moment to use it.

He wraps the blade in cloth, but a sound from the bed catches his attention—a soft shuffle, the unmistakable stir of movement.

"Severino..."

His blood runs cold.

Slowly, he turns. Narra stands in the doorway, her golden eyes wide, glowing in the darkness. She looks at the dagger in his hand, then meets his gaze. In that moment, Severino sees unmistakable betrayal in her eyes.