Page 6 of Mourning Wings

Suddenly, there’s a sharp, insistent pounding on the door, andIsabelandIjump.Shit.Ialmost forgot there are people out there waiting to use the bathroom.They’remost likely wondering what’s taking us so long.

IfIhad any guesses, they probably think we’re fooling around.

Justthen,Ihear a voice through the door. “Hey!Ifyou’re gonna stay in there any longer, at least let me in.I’dlove to join in on the fun,” the guy shouts.

Iroll my eyes.Justas predicted.

Isabellooks at me with a playful grin, raising her eyebrows. “Shouldwe let him in and pretend we were all over each other while making out?” she teases, any hint of distress disappearing.

Iroll my eyes. “Nope!”

Isabelis the only person in this world who cares for me.Idon’t want anything to affect our friendship.

We’veknown each other since we were toddlers, having met as orphans in an institution.Isabelwas abandoned at the orphanage’s doorstep as a baby, left without any explanation or note.Shehad been there long beforeIarrived.

Shebecame my closest friend and confidante from the moment we met.Weshared a bond forged by our circumstances.Wewere inseparable, finding strength in each other’s company, even afterCamilacame and left.

Mymind inevitably wanders back to that haunting encounter in the basement, how that woman’s presence seemed to materialize out of nowhere, tall and slender, like something from a dream.Hergaze, intense and unwavering, pierced through me, leaving me strangely vulnerable yet oddly captivated.

Ifelt small in front of her, not just physically—her stature towering over mine—but also in the way she held herself, with an aura of confidence that drew me in.Therewas a thrill in theuncertainty, in not knowing what she was thinking or feeling behind that composed façade.

Ihad an urge, almost something desperate, to see more of her.Itwasn’t just about her physical features; it was about unraveling the mystery that seemed to surround her.Iwanted to peel back the layers, to bring down the mask she wore soIcould glimpse the rest of her face, the emotions hidden beneath.

Atthat moment,Iwas entranced.Timeseemed to slow as we stood there, two figures in the quiet depths of the basement.Theworld outside faded away, leaving only her and me, suspended in the moment.

WhenIsabelandIfinally step out of the bathroom, the guy who had shouted at us through the door is standing right in front of it, crossing his arms around his chest.

“Abouttime,” he says with a smirk.

Iscoff. “I’msure there are other bathrooms in this gigantic house,”Iretort, having no patience for his antics. “Now, please move out of the way so we can leave.”

Hestares us down, but after a few seconds, he steps out of the way.That’swhatIthought.

Lookingfor the easiest and fastest way out of the house,Isee a sliver of space leading to the front door.

ItakeIsabel’shand and guide her away from the pulsing music and swirling lights of the party.Herfingers tremble slightly against mine, a sign she’s still shaken by what happened with that guy.

Iglance at her sideways, noting the furrow between her brows, the distant look in her eyes.Ihope this doesn’t linger.

Aswe step into the cool night air,Ifeel her tension ease a fraction, butIknow she’s far from calm.

Aswe walk further down the property line, away from the mansion and toward the gates,Isense it beforeIsee it.There’sa shift in the air, a subtle change that sets my nerves on edge.Fromthe corner of my eye,Icatch a glimmer of movement—a shadow darting between the trees.Myheart skips a beat asIglance over, trying to make sense of whatIsaw.

Then, like a flash,Isee it again: the hint of that distinctive skull mask from the basement.Isshe watching us?Thefigure disappears as quickly as it appeared, leaving me questioning ifIeven saw it at all.

Itighten my grip onIsabel’shand in a silent signal to keep moving, my mind racing with unease.Wecontinue down the path, but the feeling of being watched persists.It’sunnerving, like a weight on my shouldersIcan’t shake off.Ican’t help but glance back toward the trees, half-expecting to see her again.

Andthere she is.Thistime,Istop in my tracks, my eyes locked on the mysterious woman.Isabelhalts her steps next to me, confused.

Thestranger’s gaze is fixed on us.Inotice detailsIhadn’t before: her honey-colored skin adorned with intricate tattoos, the uneven dangle of a cross earring—one lobe adorned, the other bare.

She’swearing black cargo pants and a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

Theintensity of her stare sends tingles down my spine, a sensationIcan’t ignore.It’snot just fear—it’s something else, something that stirs arousal deep within me.Theunknown surrounding her, the danger she seems to embody.Itall adds to her allure.

Isabelsqueezes my hand, breaking the tension. “Val, what is it?”

Itear my eyes away from the woman. “There’ssomeone watching us.”

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