Page 16 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

NOAH

“ I didn’t know what to expect during the gathering of this brotherhood,” I tell the camera.

The brotherhood gathering? I didn’t know whether to expect a prank or a power play.

Turns out it was both. “Perhaps a prank. Or some rich kid version of hazing. It was nighttime when I went to my office and opened my drawer. The cape and Venetian mask were there. The mask was pretty, golden embroidery on black ceramic. Beautiful, yes, but also unsettling, like a disguise meant to conceal more than just a face.”

Magnificent. Terrifying as hell.

By the time Louis came to pick me up, I’d even opened one of his bottles of champagne. I needed to relieve some of the tension.

“You look dangerously good like that,” is all he said, before putting the rim to his mouth and swallowing down the drink.

There were many things I wanted to say in return.

But I didn’t. Because my throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

My throat felt like sandpaper, dry and rough.

Then Louis kissed me like he was starving.

Like he was desperate for my touch. He lavished me in his usual, obsessive, possessive way, making my entire body buzz with need.

I couldn’t get enough. I craved it. Hated it.

His own mask was also golden, his cloak black.

We looked identical as we walked side by side.

I expected us to return to the hallway with the hidden door, to solve its mystery at last. But we didn’t.

Instead, we turned into another passage, narrow, dim, and utterly deserted at midnight.

Silent cloaks glided past us like shadows, not a word spoken.

A pause lingers, a moment of silence, the weight of unspoken fears hanging thick in the air.

“And that was just the beginning.” I blink in the camera. “We went down the stairs and followed the line through the dungeons, where we were led into a dimly lit room. There he stood, the man with the cane. Their leader.”

That crow. The head of his cane was carved into the face of one—a crown-shaped mask, its beak slightly opened, as if mid-caw. Ornate, regal, and watching.

I stop the video here. Goosebumps have filled my cold arms and neck. My skin crawls as I realize how deep the darkness runs beneath the surface.

I thought Louis meant it when he said we were going to have some fun.

Instead, this brotherhood, the Alpha Fraternarii, operates like a cult.

They call each other Brother, repeat values as if they’ve been brainwashed.

If Louis hadn’t occasionally smirked my way, I would have thought he was exactly that. Brainwashed.

The professional in me is shivering. It's yet another proof of all the darkness that surrounds the light. Of depravity that takes place behind closed doors. What’s worse is that these are tomorrow’s leaders.

Our billionaires. Our presidents. Our CEOs.

Their sons already engaging in secretive dealings beneath the castle, in spaces drenched in wealth, power, and ritualistic pleasure.

Because that was the other Louis failed to mention.

It was the reason I'd fled the scene, their orgy hitting home like a dagger slashed through skin, tearing flesh apart and making it bleed, and hurt.

Taking in a deep breath I turn back on the camera.

I pause, letting the weight of what I’m saying settle.

“Nearly twenty million euros was donated to charity funds, and that tells me that they care for approval of their own. Colleagues in the field of Sociology have been able to prove that the notion of being watched improves a person’s behaviour.

This gathering was the perfect example of that.

In a good way, by throwing money in good causes and being able to brag over it, and in a more dubious way.

By using sex as power. They’d hired sex workers, but also enjoyed each other. I?—”

“Noons? Are you coming?”

I startle at Melo’s call, the camera nearly slipping from my hands. I hadn't realized I'm sweating.

“Everything’s ready for Snackmas!” She sings.

“Coming.” Lifting my glasses to rub my eyes and nose, I take in a deep breath and try to shake that night away. To extinguish my fear and bitterness, and this lingering desire for Louis.

I've done it. I've indulged in his dirty little secret. It has even led to relevant research I can use. But now, this has to end. No more destroying my career and future.

Obsession has a way of blurring lines, between what I want, what I need, and what I’m willing to lose. It’s exhausting, and I’m barely holding myself together.

His voice tastes like honeyed smoke, and it drags me under every time.

I tell myself I’m done. That I’m stronger than this. That I’ll walk away next time. But even now, I’m still tasting him. And I’m still sinking.

I ’m working out in the park when my phone buzzes with a message. It has been over a week since Louis last phoned me. Over a week, he made me come just from his filthy words. And during those days, I've watched countless hours of bad movies and eaten loads of chocolate bars.

Melo:

Me: Love you too

Melo: You better hurry, the next movie starts in ten minutes

I grin all the way back home.

But the moment I open the front door, I feel something’s different. The television isn’t on. Melo’s not humming to an invisible tune. Instead, I find her giggling.

Giggling.

“Hello?” I toe off my shoes.

Then I see them. Louis is hanging at the kitchen bar, drinking wine and chatting with my sister like they’ve been besties for god knows how long. He laughs at something she says, then turns my way, dark eyes invading my every single sense. It’s making me lightheaded.

“What the hell’s the meaning of this?” I snarl.

“Noons! There you are. You could have told me your friend was staying over?” She slides a glass of wine my way, eyes beaming.

I clear my throat and watch in horror as Louis glides off his chair and strides my way. His hug feels too much and not enough at the same time. His earthy spice invades my nostrils and has me aching for more.

He looks painfully handsome. Raven hair smooth and mussed at the same time, that lock teasing his forehead. His entire frame ripples when he stretches his arms above his head. The bastard knows I’m staring. And still, I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from him.

“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs against my ear. He says it like he means it, and my entire body buzzes at the rasp in his tone.

“Uhm…yeah.” I shake my head and we both laugh. That’s not what I mean to say, and we both know it.

“Look what Louis brought.” Melo holds up the fruit basket that’s entirely filled with oranges. “There’s also fresh juice in the fridge.”

“Fresh…”

He waves me off, sounding way too smug. “It’s nothing. Anyway, you still okay if I take a quick shower? It was quite the ride to get here.”

Melo beams. “Of course! Up the stairs, middle door. You can’t miss it, it’s a small house.”

He throws his bag over his shoulder and stalks up the stairs.

“Sexy,” Melo mouths.

I grunt.

He has barely disappeared out of view when his text comes in.

Little Devil: Not happy to see me? Want to come up and punish me yourself, Professor?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

She gives my hand a quick squeeze, then puts her earbuds in. “So cool that he came all the way to see you from Paris. I’ll go and get us something to eat. I’ll be right back. Oh, before I forget, you received a letter from the notary. I put it in the oven.”

“Thanks, sis.” I glare at the empty stairs while I hear her leave. The moment the door shuts, I’m on the move. My insides are pure chaos, rolling and swooping and playing with my mind.

He plays with my mind.

Climbing the stairs, my rage flares hotter the moment I hear the shower run. It ignites when I see Louis standing under the jets, behind my glass door.

Citrus and vanilla invade my nostrils. Fuck me, he’s using my shower gel.

A flutter makes its way through my stomach.

Louis is leaning against the wall, his long, elegant neck arched.

His chest is wide, rippling with muscles when he lets out a hand and brushes it through his wet, black hair.

His form is sculpted to detail. The edges of his shoulders, hips, and long legs all converging to create a painting of epic proportions, a masterpiece forged in strength and precision. And he’s aware of it.

I hate that he’s aware of it.

He has me hating myself for everything, fucking everything my body feels right now.

A desire so untamed it has me losing control.

The warm water sluicing over his skin mixes with the sharp scent of citrus and sweat, sending jolts through me that I’m barely able to contain.

Contrast the heat of the water with the cold edge of my racing mind.

“That’s it.” I pull my shirt over my head and throw it on the pants I’ve already discarded, and head for my undoing. Louis’s eyes widen when I open the glass door. Black with golden flecks glimmers at me, and he smiles, revealing that boyish grin.

“Came to punish me, Professor?”

“Is this what you want?” I snarl, grabbing him by his throat.

His face turns red and it makes me fucking squeeze harder, transmitting the rage I’m feeling.

“You have no right to be here. We had a fucking deal. Yet here you are, invading my shower, my home.” The water cascades down his body, dropping on his flawless skin, embracing all the dips and valleys of his muscles.

I want to smack away his gorgeous grin. At the same time, he’s got me panting, unable to drag my gaze away from his handsome features, elated that he’s here, with me, bathing me once more with his all-consuming attention.

It’s flattering. Fuelling this insane hunger he has introduced into my life after years of successful denial.