I smile. Slow. Cruel. "She’s not yours to keep."

"And she’s yours?"

I barely resist the urge to laugh. "She’s hers." I gesture vaguely toward Layla, who is still behind us, watching, silent and unreadable. "And if she chooses to leave with us, then that’s her decision. Not yours. Not mine."

Severin’s eyes flick to her. Hungry. Unwilling. Because he knows the truth in my words. And he hates it. But he’s not stupid. He knows I won’t leave her here. And that means he has one option left.

Fight.

His fingers flex at his sides, his power coiling around him, pressing against the space between us like the first roll of thunder before the storm breaks.

"You can’t beat me without the rest of them," he says smoothly, so confident. "You think you alone are enough?"

Before I can answer, Elias steps forward. And time stops. Not just the air, not just the moment. Everything. The wind freezes mid-motion, strands of Luna’s hair suspended in the air. The dust that had been kicked up by the force of the fight hangs, unmoving, each particle locked in place. The ripple of Severin’s power still stretching toward me, halted mid-breath.

"I mean," he drawls, inspecting his nails like he didn’t just bend the fabric of reality itself, "technically, Lucien doesn’t need the rest of them to beat you. He has me."

Severin can’t move, but I see it in his eyes. The realization that he might have just made a very large mistake.

Elias rolls his shoulders. "Now, we can do this a few ways." He lifts a hand, and with the laziest flick of his fingers, he shifts time forward by a fraction of a second, just enough to makeSeverin stagger, his body trying to catch up to itself, the split-second disorientation that no one can control.

It’s a mockery of movement. A warning.

"I could keep you like this all day," Elias continues, tilting his head. "Hell, I could roll you back a few minutes and make you watch yourself lose again, if you want. I can pause you for a week, a year, honestly, however long it takes for you to get over this massive inferiority complex."

His smile sharpens.

"Or," he muses, "we could all walk away. And you? You could take this loss like a good little villain and try again when you have a shot."

The world shudders around him. And then, just as suddenly as it froze, Time starts again. Severin stumbles slightly, blinking once, twice, recalibrating. Trying to act like he isn’t shaken.

I step forward, closing the last bit of space between us, lowering my voice to something only he can hear.

"Take your loss," I murmur. "And get out of my way."

And for the first time since I’ve known him, Severin does.