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Chapter 2 The Walk to the Wolf

Word Count: 1038    |    Released on: 23/10/2026

open, and the breath evacuated from

scent of white gardenias-Seraphina's signature, ordered by the thousands to mask the rot of our

on, his manicured fingers trembling so hard the platinum cufflin

grotesque, frozen grin across his face for the high-society cameras. "Walk str

answer. I

d over raw skin. Beneath the veil, the world was a blur of gothic stone arches, pale candlelight, and the distorted silhouet

e a union. They were here to

f the aisle stoo

Vale

n't fidget. He stood alone on the raised marble chancel like a monolith carved out of obsidian, hands clasped

ee of predat

omsmen. He needed no buffer. He wore a midnight-black three-piece suit cut so precisely it looked molded to his ribs, a black silk tie pinned with

st

lf, digging my fingernails into my palms until the

been scrubbed from the blotter because Arthur traded favors, while I sat in an interrogation chair taking the heat until dawn. Dante had walked through the squad room that night

king straight

e s

e vibration hummed up through the soles

hancel. Up close, the sheer scale of Dante Valerius was suffocating. He didn't smell like garde

high, thin, and brittle as dried

ews. An empty, nauseating lie from a fat

. His eyes remained locked on th

, Arthur,"

ews like a low-frequency hum. Arthur practically recoiled, releasing my arm so fast he nearly backed down t

ft stand

re congregation could hear it. I stared at the polished black leather of his shoes, unable to lift my gaze. I waited for the fury. I waited for his g

hand entered my

e his fortune. He didn't wait for the priest to instruct

ct made m

olute. An iron band locking around bone. His thumb slid intentionally upward, pres

forward; he anchor

. "Dearly beloved... we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face

tant static. All I could feel was

blocking out the light from the stained-glass saints above. His lips parted bes

host," he murmured, so quiet on

ine. Little ghost. That wasn't

acing pulse point, a terrifyingl

of a dark, cruel smirk riding the edge of his voice. "W

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