October 3, 2015. Grimstone Asylum Grounds, Northern Pack Lands.

My paws hit the hard ground with heavy beats, pounding against the grass with an exhilarating intensity. Lapping in deep inhales, my senses become heightened, sharp, for the first time in a while. The shift was easy, my wolf was welcoming me after I had abandoned her for weeks.

I sprinted through the vast greens, the line of trees blurring as I shot through.

This...

It felt right, it felt liberating.

There were many other wolves around me—from the asylum, but none of them were dangerous or threatening. The bigger, black wolves stood by the borders of the asylum grounds, guarding the area, ensuring that no one would escape or leave from here while on their watch.

We were given an hour of the shift. I wanted to use it well and explore as much of the grounds as I could. So far, it wasn't limited or restricted anywhere.

As I ran, I could feel my strength building with every second that passed.

Nothing was stopping me now. I was in my own state of bliss. This was what I had been missing, and it filled me with a sense of clarity like no other. My thoughts had started to clear.

Not even once I thought of Hollow Point, running there and getting chased by that wolf who I later killed on the same night.

Thoughts of Dom began ebbing away.

More time passed and I slowed down by the border of a small pond where I caught sight of several ducks. I neared and the ducks splashed away, terrified.

It's the fur.

I looked around the asylum grounds, and now, finally, it didn't feel like an asylum.

That was until a familiar scent hit me. I moved my gaze up and the sound of pounding paws grew louder.

When I looked behind, there was no one there and when I looked ahead, there was no one there either. But I could smell him.

Dom Sterling.

I could smell his rogue scent. I could feel his presence.

He was near me.

Paralyzing terror gripped my bones.

The stench continued to fill my senses and my heart beat fast, I scrambled backward, moving back.

This cannot be happening.

I reminded myself over and over again that he was dead. But how could I smell him then? How could I feel him?

With racing breaths, I darted back, desperate to get away, and just then, I caught his eyes. His wolf stood behind the tree, but I saw him clear as day.

No.

Without wasting any second, I dug my nails into the ground and propelled forward at a maddening speed. I couldn't look back or slow down. This couldn't be real.

My heart raced as I ran for as long as I could.

The man I killed was here—he was here, in the asylum. I knew it. I knew that he was stalking me.

Everything slowed down around me as terror and dread seeped into my body. It made its way into my bloodstream. I pushed further and harder, going as fast as I could.

"Fallon, are you doing alright?" Dr. Victoria asked as I neared the building.

I halted near her and shifted back. I quickly grabbed my clothes from the bench and shuffled into them, my hands shaky and my breath still unstable. Dr. Victoria was alert, now, noticing something was off.

"What happened, Fallon? Why are you back so early?"

"I just—" I muttered, licking my dry lips and taking a deep breath. "I just saw him here. He's alive."

"Who?"

I barely could make the words out. My hands were trembling, I didn't want to do this again, I didn't want to go through all of this again. "Dom Sterling—he's here."

"But he's dead, Fallon. Isn't that right?" She placed her hand over my shoulder and asked.

I looked at her, my eyes wide. "He's supposed to be. But he's there, I saw him, I know it. There's something—I just want to go back to my room, please."

"Alright. Let me get someone to escort you back. Okay?" I couldn't register anything else she said.

My mind kept replaying the time I ran past those trees and saw his wolf, looking at me, as if he was haunting me.

He's haunting me. He's a ghost.

Dr. Victoria got one of the male nurses to take me to my room. Once I was back, I shut the door closed and the blinds down. I dug my face in the pillows and heaved out a breath, hoping to feel better and sleep the madness away.

I haven't felt like this in a long time. At least not a couple of days.

Why was this happening again? Why was he haunting me again? I thought that maybe because his body had been found at the Hollow Point, he wouldn't haunt me again, that somehow his soul would be at rest, and that I wouldn't have to see him again. But I was wrong. I was terribly wrong.

No matter what, the guilt of killing another person was never going away.

I was alone for an hour before I was taken to Dr. Frost's office for another session.

The office was large and well-lit. It was filled with art and plants. Different types of potted plants filled the corners of the room, brightening up the area.

Once I stepped in, I found Dr. Frost waiting for me with a hot cup of tea. I made my way to her and carefully lowered myself onto the cushiony sofa, too overwhelmed by the feeling to even open my mouth.

Dr. Frost offered me a slight smile and poured tea into the empty cup on the table in front of me. "Have some."

"Thank you."

She sat down across from me and exhaled, waiting for me to speak first, to tell her what had happened. But I didn't know what to say.

I slowly took a sip from the hot tea and let the liquid slide down my throat. The sensation momentarily took my mind off things.

"Fallon, can you tell me what's on your mind? We don't have to discuss it in detail if you don't want to." She spoke and I lowered the cup, staring into the liquid inside.

Dr. Frost's eyes lingered on me, searching for answers.

"I don't know what I think is real anymore," I spoke and she sat there patiently listening. "I thought the visions had stopped, I'd go days without seeing or feeling Dom. But today—earlier, I saw him as clear as day."

"Where did you see him?"

"Outside."

"What did you see?"

"I saw him." I replied, biting the inside of my cheek and swallowing tightly.

"What else? Did he speak to you? Or did you hear him say anything?"

I shook my head at that, "No, nothing."

"Has this—Dom, has he spoken to you before?"

"A few times," I sighed, tapping my nails against the table. "He'd torture me with words, he'd tell me how I had killed him, and that I enjoyed doing it, and that he'd make me suffer for what I did to him."

There was no judgment in her demeanor, only patience and concern. I wasn't going to judge myself because I was going crazy—at this point, I had to accept it.

She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, "Fallon, we had the guards search the premises thoroughly and there was no sign of Dom Sterling. There was no footprint, no other evidence that he had actually been here. I understand that you may be still haunted, the guilt, trauma, and grief are very valid and you cannot expect them to go away as easily as you might want. These things take time. There's this medicine that works well with many of my patients, I'd like you to try it out."

"And if I still continue to hallucinate him?"

"We'll get to the root of your problem. Either it will be your mind and you're having a hard time accepting what happened or it will be something entirely else."

Her words left me uncertain of how to proceed, how to think. A part of me knew that Dom wasn't here because he can't be here. But the other part believed, wholeheartedly, that he was here, in this very asylum, haunting me.

What if I didn't kill him?

When the realisation dawned on me, I began considering the possibility that I didn't kill Dom. All this time I assumed he was dead, but maybe he wasn't.

Could it be possible?

I did see the body, I buried him—his wolf.

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