Zane's POV

I didn't remember the last time I'd slept in a bed because beds were for people and I wasn't one anymore.

I was something else, maybe even broken. I couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop searching, couldn't stop hunting for a ghost.

It's been four fucking years since the fire, since I lost her and everything else.

My wolf was always close to the surface now. He had been for months, maybe longer I didn't know because time didn't mean much anymore.

As days turned to weeks, I would sometimes look up and before I knew it, a month was gone and I couldn't remember any of it because...