Marcus POV
For an immortal like me, it's been centuries since I've felt this kind of pain—this burning, tearing, bone-deep agony that makes death look merciful. The last time I remember something even close to this was the day Maria died.
I didn't need anyone to tell me she was gone. I felt it—the severing of that invisible thread between us, that soul-deep snap that left me hollow. I remember stumbling through the corridors of the citadel, my vision blurring, my chest caving in as if someone had reached in and torn out my heart with their bare hands. And then I saw her—my Maria. My love. Her headless body dumped among the others, and her head… gods, her head was hanged on the city gates beside my parents'. The entire royal line slaughtered and displayed like trophies. I can still smell the blood, still hear the flies buzzing, still taste the ashes in my mouth.
