He never stopped being hers.
The silver band around his finger had burned, catching and holding the heat from the very air. The metal had tarnished and blackened, wearing through to bare wire in places, but in the depths of hell, he never took off the ring.
Even the worst part of him, couldn't take it off.
When he lost his soul again, when the man became the monster, his eyes always seemed to somehow drift past it. When he remembered, he would glare at it out of baleful eyes, cursing his past weakness and blessing her for returning him to evil. Still, he never bothered to slide it off his finger.
It was the only tie he couldn't bear to cut.
Even when he had to leave her, even after the ring had vanished in his journey back from hell… He still wore it. The paler mark on his already pale skin where fire instead of sunlight had tanned the skin not shielded by bless'd silver. It was not in a design, just a paler blur, but he could still see it, perfect in his mind's eye, a crown and a heart in hand.
Through all the strife, through madness and through hell, he never took it off.
He never stopped being hers.