Page 17 of Mourning Wings (Whitmore Legacy #1)

16

RONNIE

I ’m still coming down from my high, my breath steadying as I watch Valeria catch hers. Her body, still glowing, lies beside me, and for a moment, everything feels right. Finally .

I glance down at the mess we’ve made, and a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. But then, I notice the blood, our clothes still damp and stained from earlier. I should clean her up.

I remove the belt from around her neck, rubbing at her red skin to soothe the soreness.

When I’m satisfied, I get up slowly, legs wobbly, and move to the small drawer near the bed, rifling through it, trying to find anything useful. My fingers brush against some old rags. Perfect . I grab one and head to the adjoining bathroom.

The water runs cold as I wet the cloth, squeezing out just enough water before heading back to her. She’s still lying there, her eyes closed, but I can tell she’s not asleep. “ Hey ,” I whisper, kneeling beside her. “ Deixa -me tomar conta de ti.” Let me take care of you.

She looks into my eyes, seeing the sincerity there. “ Why ?”

“ Because you’re mine now.”

I begin to gently wipe the blood off her skin, working my way over her arms, down her stomach. There’s a softness in my movements, but underneath it all, I can’t believe it’s real. What’s shocking is that I remember everything—every detail I buried, every connection I missed. All this time, it wasn’t just about the Whitmores .

When I’m done cleaning her up, I help her slip her shirt back on, the fabric sticking slightly to her skin where the blood splattered. The red stains contrast deeply with her skin, but it doesn’t make her any less beautiful. If anything, it makes her look stronger.

I stand, grabbing my own clothes from the floor and tugging them on, piece by piece. My body aches from the fight, but my mind is sharper than it has ever been.

She watches me as I dress, her brow furrowing slightly. “ So , what’s the plan?”

I pull my shirt over my head and sit beside her, leaning in close enough to feel her warmth again. “ We go after them—on our terms this time. And we make sure they never hurt anyone again. There’s no way we let those motherfuckers tear us down.”

Her lips curl into a determined smile. “ I’m ready.”

We spend the next few minutes devising a plan of action and decide to leave the security of my old bedroom. This room is tucked away in an area of the mansion off-limits to everyone but the family, which explains why no one has come looking for us yet. Eventually , though, they’ll realize we’re not just hiding and come for us.

But instead of fleeing or finding another place to hide, we’re going to find them and teach them a lesson they’ll never forget. We’ve had enough of the Whitmores thinking they can own us, control us, and do whatever they please.

When we’ve finally gathered ourselves, we slip out of the bedroom quietly, Valeria close behind me. Our footsteps are barely audible as we move down the dim hallway. We have my knife and her kubotan, but we need better weapons if we’re going to succeed.

As we make our way down the corridor, the memories drift back to me, the architecture of the mansion triggering old thoughts. “ I remember this hallway,” I murmur. The walls look familiar, the faded patterns of the wallpaper. “ There are swords on one of these walls, I’m sure of it.”

We keep walking until the passage splits in two directions. “ This way.” I lead her to the right, my instincts kicking in—and there they are, hanging on the wall like artifacts, just as I remembered.

“ Bingo .” I take two down, handing one to Valeria . She holds it like she was born for this, the steel glinting as she swings it over her shoulder. The fierce determination in her eyes is intoxicating.

“ Fuck , Val ,” I groan quietly. “ It’s taking everything in me not to shove the handle of that sword up your sweet cunt right now.”

Valeria grins, that familiar fire in her gaze. “ Another time,” she teases, her voice a sultry whisper that makes my pulse race.

But now is not the time for distractions. We reach the end of the second floor and find the stairwell.

“ I know exactly where they’ll be.”

“ In the basement?” Valeria asks, her voice tense.

I nod. “ Yeah , where we first met. They’ll be down there, performing that ritual.” The thought of it makes my skin crawl, the memory of that room flickering through my mind.

Valeria shivers beside me, but she grips the sword tighter. “ We’ll barge in and stop them. No more sacrifices, no more hiding. We’ll end this.”

When we reach the basement, Valeria whistles softly beside me. “ These monitors are just as creepy as they were the first time.”

“ Yeah ,” I agree. “ When I followed you down here, the space felt oddly familiar. I figured it was just because I spend so much time in front of screens.”

Valeria’s brow furrows. “ Oh , right. When you spent hours stalking me?” She moves past me, but I grab a handful of her hair, pulling her body flush against mine as she hisses from the strain.

“ Yes , stalking you. You might see it as an invasion of privacy, but deep down, I know you get a twisted thrill knowing someone had eyes on you, especially when you were alone, humping your pillows like a filthy fucking girl.” I tug harder on her hair. “ I’ll never stop watching you, butterfly. Not in this lifetime.”

She gasps as I release her, and I savor the distress in her eyes.

“ You’re a psychopath,” she says, but I just laugh.

“ The room is down this hall,” I say, pointing ahead. “ We’ll have to be quiet to avoid drawing attention.”

“ Wait . What about Isabel ?” Valeria asks, stopping abruptly and pulling out her phone. “ Still nothing,” she says, showing me the screen.

“ Let’s check the cameras. If she’s still in the house, she’ll show up on one of these monitors.”

We return to the screens and scan each feed, but Isabel doesn’t appear. The images change rapidly, and still, she’s nowhere to be seen.

“ They must’ve taken her out of the mansion,” I speculate. Then , it hits me. “ She’s at the guest house.”

Valeria looks at me, confused.

I realize I had forgotten about my three adoptive brothers: Theodore , Maxwell , and Julian . “ They probably took her to the house beyond the forest. We’ll find her once we’re done here.”

Valeria agrees, and we head back to the double doors. I glance back at her. “ Are you ready?”

“ Yes ,” she replies, her voice steady.

I crack them open and hear the faint murmur of a male voice chanting.

“ From darkened depths and sacred fire, we offer blood in deep desire. Spirits heed and grant us grace as we unveil this sacred place.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and Valeria’s eyes widen in alarm.

We slip into the room quietly. Thankfully , no one notices us, their attention fixed on the ritual.

“ By this rite, our will is cast. Through night and flame, our bond shall last,” the man continues.

I lean in close to Valeria’s ear. “ Are you sure you’re okay with this, butterfly? If it’s too much—” She cuts me off.

“ No . I need to do this. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

I nod and signal for Valeria to go left while I take the right. We part ways, moving stealthily toward the group. The man at the altar has his back to us, chanting to something or someone.

“ Guide us with your unseen hand as we fulfill this fated stand.”

I grab one of the men from behind, wrapping my arm around his mouth to muffle his cries and stab him in the neck with my knife. Valeria sneaks up on another, slicing his throat with the sword before he even has a chance to react.

We continue moving through the room, taking down the masked men one by one, our swords glistening with their blood.

But as the main man completes his chant, someone turns and spots us.

“ Intruders !” he shouts.

I give Valeria a look, and we both know it’s time to run. We sprint out of the room, as the remaining men chase us, their weapons clanging as they scramble to catch up.

“ We need to split up,” I shout over my shoulder to Valeria . “ It’s the only way we’ll make it out.”

Valeria nods. “ Be careful.”

I run down a narrow corridor, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My mind races with potential escape routes, but every door seems locked or blocked.

Meanwhile , I watch Valeria from across the hall, darting through the mansion’s maze-like interior and slipping behind a grand mantle. Her hiding spot seems safe, but when I look around, I spot a man approaching her from behind.

My eyes widen in horror as I realize what’s about to happen.

I scan the room for anything I can use to help Valeria . My gaze lands on another man standing a few feet away, his weapon drawn, oblivious to the imminent danger behind him. Quietly , I sneak up on him, my sword gripped tightly. With a swift movement, I strike him in the head, the blade slicing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. The man crumples to the floor, and I quickly grab his gun.

I aim the weapon at the man approaching Valeria , and with a steady hand, I fire. The shot rings out, echoing through the mansion, and the man falls, a neat hole appearing in his temple. He drops forward, collapsing inches from Valeria .

She catches sight of the fallen man and muffles a scream, her eyes wide with shock. She scrambles to her feet, moving out of the way as I rush to her side.

“ Are you okay?”

Tears spring in her eyes as she nods. “ Yes .”

Seconds later, someone clears their throat. We turn toward the sound to find Mr . Whitmore standing at the living room entrance, his presence as imposing as ever. His gaze shifts to Valeria first. “ Well , well, well, what do we have here? One of our guests causing a ruckus in my home?”

Valeria stands tall, her voice unwavering as she challenges him. “ Stay away from us. We’re not here to play games.”

Mr . Whitmore laughs, a sinister sound that sends a chill down my spine. “ Oh , you think you can just waltz in here and threaten me? How amusing.”

I step forward, feeling a surge of anger. “ You haven’t changed one bit, Lionel ,” I say, my voice filled with disgust.

Mr . Whitmore’s confusion turns to recognition as he focuses on me. “ Camila ? I thought you were dead.”

I meet his gaze with a cold stare. “ That’s what you wanted to believe. Unfortunately for you, your men didn’t think to check if I was still breathing.”

His eyes narrow. “ You should have stayed dead.”

Valeria steps in front of me, her sword ready. “ We’re not here to argue. We’re here to stop you.”

Mr . Whitmore’s smile fades, replaced by a grim expression. “ You’re too late. The ritual is nearly complete, and nothing you do can change that.”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “ We’re not leaving until you pay for what you’ve done.”

His eyes flash with a threat. “ You think you can take me down? I have more power than you can imagine.”

I tighten my grip on the gun I’d hidden behind my back.

Mr . Whitmore’s gaze shifts to the remaining men in the room, and his voice turns cold and commanding. “ Deal with them,” he orders, pointing at us. “ Make sure they don’t interfere.”

The men begin to move, and Valeria and I brace ourselves for the fight.

As they move on us, I scan the room desperately for anything that could give us an advantage. My eyes land on a canister of gas used to light the fireplace, next to it, a box of matches. It’s our only chance. I quickly turn to Valeria , urgency in my voice.

“ Valeria , get that canister.”

Valeria doesn’t hesitate. She darts toward it as I keep my gun trained on Mr . Whitmore , trying to maintain a steady aim. His menacing laughter fills the room.

“ If you shoot me,” he taunts, “my men won’t hesitate to take you down. Proceed carefully, Camila .”

His words send a burst of rage through me, and I almost growl out my response. “ It’s Verónica now, you piece of shit.”

His expression falters slightly, but his arrogance remains. “ Ah , Verónica . How quaint, though it changes nothing. You’re still outnumbered and outmatched.”

Valeria returns with the canister. I give her a nod, my grip on the gun strong, and whisper, “ On three, throw the canister into the fireplace.” I reach for the matches. “ One , two, three.”

Valeria throws the fuel just as I fire at Whitmore’s men, hitting them in the knees. One by one, they collapse to the floor. My adoptive father scrambles for a gun, but he’s too slow. Valeria charges at him, sending him sprawling. As he hits the carpet, she raises her sword and drives it through his chest, his dying gurgles echoing through the room.

I strike a match and prepare to toss it into the fireplace. Valeria sees what I’m doing and moves to exit the living room.

I throw the match, and we both sprint away.