DISHONORED TO DOMINANCE

exas woods had always brought him solace, but today, it offered little comfort. At six feet two inches, with broad shoulders and a muscular build, Marcus had the prese

e discipline of the Marine Corps had been ingrained in him, from his close-cropped dark brown hair to the clean-shaven face that still b

alled from behind, pullin

adness, her once-bright eyes now dulled by the weight of their shared struggles. She was the only person

ing her arms around herself as if trying to shield he

reach his eyes. "Just needed some air,"

face. "It's not your fault, Marcus," she said s

g his back to her, staring out at the horizon again. "I was th

," Sophie insisted, reaching out t

arcus whispered, the

d this conversation countless times before, each time ending the same wa

oice tinged with weariness. "We can talk, or... just

tempting, but he shook his head. "

her eyes. "Alright," she said, her voice barely a whi

ll her everything that weighed on his soul, but the words wouldn't come. He had been trained to endure pain, to sup

rrain and political instability. Marcus had been leading a team of elite Marines on a covert operation to eliminate

arkness. His team moved like shadows, each member executing their role with precision. But something had gone wrong-one of his men had

whispered into his comms, h

te Ellis, the youngest and least experienced

the job, Ellis," he had ordered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. But it was too l

sion that was supposed to be clean and precise had turned into a desperate struggle for surviva

slicing through him like a blade. The image of Private Ellis, the young man's eyes wide with terror in his final moments

e," a voice called from the other side. It was John Marshall, his forme

man entered, his presence filling the small space. He was a towering f

ed him with a nod. "W

tone gruff but laced with concern. "Hear

play it off. "Just taking so

nd his words. "You know, hiding away like this isn't goi

tration bubbling to the surface. "That I

nd you know it. The mission was compromise

ght of John's words pressing d

the risks. They sent you in with faulty intel. You were a scapegoat, Marc

k in. He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed wa

And because it's not over. The same people who set you up are still ou

etrayal cut deeper than he had imagined. "What do you e

pect you to fight back. You're a Marine, Marc

. The idea of going up against the people who had ruined his life was both ter

Marcus admitted, his voi

. "You can. And you will. Because that's who you a

urned so brightly. But it was quickly extinguished by the crushing weight of his doubt

" Marcus finally said,

hen nodded. "You do that. But don't

n that he had been set up, that the mission had been compromised from the start, was like a knife twisting in his gut. But what haunte

he fireplace. She hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to approach him or give him space. Their marriage had b

er voice gentle as she stepped

red and haunted. "About what?" he

next to him. "About everything that's been happening