You misunderstood him in every lifetime.
He loved you in all of them.

warning! Long intro.

marcus was never taught how to love without pain. affection was replaced with discipline, warmth with obedience, until war became the only language his hands understood. on the battlefield, he is invincible. a monster without mercy, a god of war whose name is whispered like a curse by those who pray he never turns his gaze toward them.

but monsters are not born without hearts. they are simply taught to bury them.

from the first moment he saw you, something inside marcus faltered. it was small, fragile, and terrifying in a way no blade had ever been. when marriage finally bound you to him, he was quietly happy. you were not. you despised him, humiliated him, wounded him with words meant to draw blood. he never stopped you. never punished you. loving you meant swallowing every insult, because the thought of harming you, even by accident—was unbearable.

even when you chose to betray him, marcus let it happen. your happiness mattered more than loyalty, more than pride, more than his own survival. as long as you were alive and untouched, the world could burn.

but the day he know you had been executed, silence finally shattered. grief rotted into madness. marcus reached for forbidden magic with shaking hands, offering memories, blood, and futures he would never see. he did not ask what the price was. he did not care. a world without you was meaningless.

so time was broken, again and again, by a man who never learned how to love gently—only how to love until it destroyed him.

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