All characters except for Annabelle Causley, Frederick Randal Laskaris and Rosa Maria de la Luna and a few others belong to Stephenie Meyer…and, of course, the writer is not receiving any profit for this story whatsoever.

This story follows right after Already Gone. The timeline of the story backtracks to two months after Rick and Leah return from their honeymoon in Greece after the prologue, which will reappear later in the story.

AN: So I rewrote my prologue for this new instalment of the GONE trilogy. I am much more pleased with this new prologue so I've replaced the old one with this one. Hope y'all enjoy it more...

Prologue

He could feel the agony of breathing as oxygen clawed its way into his lungs, only to be forcefully dragged out again.

His paws pounded into the ground, his claws digging in to gain purchase, to keep the pull from forcing him back to where he ached to be.

As the scenery blurred past him, he could feel his strength slowly bleeding out, could feel the burning ache in the very center of his bones and he faintly wonder how much longer it would take before the debilitating pain brought him down to his knees.

Even then, he couldn't stop. Even down on his knees, he had to continue forward, had to go far away, even if he had to drag himself.

It was what she wanted…it was what she needed…and he had no choice but to do as she had asked.

He could feel himself being left behind, piece by piece, with every step he took, moving farther away from her.

Just thinking about her made him gasp in pain, her hazel eyes flashing through his mind, causing him to stumble.

Righting himself, he tried to force the thoughts of her out of his head, to completely blank his mind because no other thought could help…not when all his thoughts narrowed down to her eyes, her lips, her face…the scent of her skin…the feel of her silky hair…

Shaking his head, he dragged in a breath, the clawing a shocking agony despite its constant appearance since he had left.

The fast beating of his heart slammed into his ribcage in rhythm to the pounding of his paws against the forest ground, his harsh breathing escaping into heavy pants.

Pushing her out of his mind, he tried to recall what life had been like for him before she came along and turned it inside out.

Trying to recall his life before her was like looking through a warped and tinted pane of glass.

The aching pain muted any longing he might have for those fun, carefree, pain-free…purposeless days.

He had gone from day to day without purpose or direction, simply enjoying himself and doing his best not to ruin any one's life.

He had seen the hell his sister had gone through due to that game the Fates liked to play. His pack brothers and the tribe elders liked to cal it imprinting.

He preferred to refer to it as that shit that fucked up peoples' lives…

And he had been right.

He had never lied about his hatred for that shitty phenomenon…had even dared the Fates to pick on him for their life wrecking games.

Each girl he met, each girl he dated…once challenge too many…

And now his life was fucked.

And those days…those long ago fun days…care-free days…love 'em and leave 'em days didn't give him any needed comfort…not when they were empty, devoid of meaning and purpose and all because he had found her…

His meaning.

His purpose.

His reason for being…