Todos los capítulos de The Last Wolfe: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

The graveyard sat on a hill overlooking the city, a stretch of green caged behind rusted iron gates that had not been painted in decades. Wind slipped through the bare branches of the ancient oaks, carrying the scent of wet earth and decay, something older and heavier, like stone soaked in centuries of rain. The sky was low and gray, pressed flat against the horizon, and a thin mist clung to the ground, curling around the headstones like fingers reaching for something they could not hold.Raven Wolfe knelt in front of two granite graves. Her knees pressed into the damp soil, and the cold seeped through the fabric of her black trousers, but she did not move. She never did. An hour, sometimes more, sometimes until the sun disappeared behind the trees and the mist swallowed everything whole. This was her ritual. Her penance. Her way of reminding herself why she was still alive while the rest of her family turned to ash.The headstones were simple. Gray granite. Polished smooth. No angels

The Grand Astoria Hotel rose from the heart of the city like a wedding cake, its white stone facade glowing under the soft wash of streetlights. Limousines lined the curb, their engines purring, their passengers stepping out into a river of flashing cameras and murmured greetings. The air smelled of expensive perfume and chilled champagne and the faint, sweet scent of flowers from the arrangements flanking the entrance.Raven Wolfe stood across the street, watching.Her black sedan was parked in a loading zone, the engine off, the windows cracked to let in the cool night air. She had been sitting there for twenty minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had no business being here. She was not wealthy. She was not connected. She was just a woman with a promotion and a boss who expected her to make an impression.She checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hair was down tonight, dark waves falling past her shoulders, softer than

The restaurant was called Solstice, though there was no sign outside to announce it. Just a black door set between two shuttered storefronts, unmarked and unassuming. Raven stood on the sidewalk for a long moment, her hand on the cold iron handle, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had no idea what she was doing here. She had no idea who this man was. She had no idea why she had said yes.But she had said yes. And now she was here.She pushed the door open and stepped inside.The interior was dimly lit, intimate, with low ceilings and dark wood and candles flickering on every table. A hostess in a black dress appeared, asked her name, and led her through a maze of quiet corridors to a private room in the back. The walls were paneled in dark wood, the table set for two, the windows looking out onto a small garden hidden from the street.Fenris was already there.He stood when she entered, tall and broad shouldered in a dark suit, no tie, his shirt open at the collar. hair was swe

The coffee shop was small and narrow, wedged between a laundromat and a shuttered bookstore on a street that had seen better days. The windows were streaked with condensation, and the air inside smelled like roasted beans and stale pastry. A bell jingled overhead every time the door opened, which was often. The place was busy, crowded with students and freelancers and the kind of people who treated caffeine as a survival mechanism.Raven Wolfe stood in line, her coat collar turned up against the cold, her hair loose around her shoulders. She had not slept well. She had been thinking about him again, about his gray eyes and the way he had looked at her across the table, and she was angry at herself for it. She did not have time for this. She did not have space in her life for a man she barely knew.She ordered a black coffee, extra strong, and stepped to the side to wait.The bell jingled.She looked up.Fenris Vlad walked through the door.He was dressed differently than before, casua

The call came on a Thursday evening, three days after the office visit. Raven was sitting on her couch, still in her work clothes, a glass of wine in one hand and a cold slice of pizza in the other. She had been staring at the wall for an hour. Her phone buzzed. An unknown number. She almost ignored it. She answered. "Raven." His voice was low, smooth, familiar. Her heart skipped. "Fenris." "I hope I am not interrupting." "You are not." She set down the pizza. "How did you get my number?" "Your boss gave it to me." "My boss?" "Margot Pierce. She thought I might have questions about your firm's services." A pause. "I do not have questions." "Then why are you calling?" He was quiet for a moment. She could hear him breathing, slow and steady, like he was choosing his words carefully. "There is an event tomorrow night. Private. Important people will be there." "Important how?" "The kind of people who do not attend galas." She frowned. "I do not understand."