Page 20 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

LOUIS

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing. My eyes flutter open, squinting at the morning light. Fuck, did Arthur not shut the blinds? I sit up, disoriented, and then it hits me. I’m not in my own bed.

Last night actually happened.

A grin tugs at my lips as heat coils low in my stomach. Less about the blowjob, more about what it meant. Still…

His side of the bed’s empty. Where the fuck is he?

I dive for my pants in a puddle on the floor, the phone still buzzing. Falling out of bed with a curse, I swipe to answer. “Motherf—yeah?”

“Where the hell are you?” Gael barks. “You’re clearly not in your bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Ha. Ha. Not funny. Give your twin a call, because Arthur’s already going through all the dorms.”

I put on my shirt, not bothering to close the buttons. “He’s such a fucking nerd.”

“Yeah, well…text him.”

“I will.”

“And, bro?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“I might tell you someday.”

“Oh, come on, don’t do that to me. I will tell Arthur if you keep me out of your little secrets.”

“Secrets, secrets.” I smile at the words. That’s what got us here in the first place.

“Yeah, you don’t want any of those, do you? Come on, man.”

“Soon, cous.” I hang up before my nosy cousin can get too much information out of me, then toss my phone on the bed with a sigh.

That’s when I see it, on the table by the window, perfectly arranged: a croissant and a bowl of blackberries. My stomach swoops. Noah left them for me.

I filled the mini fridge in his dorm, sure, but I didn’t actually expect him to use any of it. Thought he’d be too stubborn. Too proud.

Grinning, I grab a handful of berries and text him.

Little Devil: Thank you for the berries

Little Devil: Next time, I’ll have you hand feed me

I erase the last message. Careful, I don’t want to scare him off. But part of me wants to test him, to see how far I can go before he either snaps or gives in.

He reads my message immediately. I wait for his reply while stuffing my mouth full.

Noah: You’re welcome

Okayyy…? That’s it? No other message? Fuck, I want more. I want to know where he is, what he’s doing, and when he’ll be back. I want him in my space all the fucking time.

Little Devil: I ordered a coffee machine. It will arrive today.

He reads my message but doesn’t reply.

Little Devil: Do you also drink tea? I noticed you don’t have a kettle.

The fucker still doesn’t reply.

Little Devil: I ordered a kettle. And a box with a thousand tea bags.

No reply.

He might not take the bait, but he’s got me all pent-up. So I step into his shower, grab his fucking expensive shower gel, citrus and something darker, and give my aching dick the treatment it deserves. I make sure to take a picture when I come, slick and flushed, and send it to Noah.

He still doesn’t reply.

I’m getting dressed when my phone finally buzzes. Making a run for it back to the bathroom, I’m disappointed to see it’s not him. It’s my asshole twin.

Arthur: Where the fuck are you?

Arthur: Answer me.

Arthur: I’m worried sick

Arthur: Do I need to call the police?

Typical Arthur. He doesn’t type one message with multiple questions. He bombards the world with his single-syllable orders.

What would he do if I actually disappeared?

Louis: There in five.

I check Noah’s messages one more time. Fuck me, my dick looks perfect from up close. Wet and hard and ready to pop. Why doesn’t he reply? Was I not clear last night about my intentions? Ignoring me. Me . No one ignores me.

By the time I walk through the door to our rooms, my mood has soured. He still hasn’t replied.

I hear Arthur’s bickering with Régis. My twin’s a pro at finding topics to argue over, especially with our little stepbrother.

He’s been sneaking out of bed at night like a thief, quiet, deliberate, and cocky enough to think I wouldn’t notice.

But I always notice. Especially when someone’s slipping into territory that should be mine.

If he thinks I won’t use that against him, he’s sorely mistaken.

Anyway, they’ve taken their quarrel up to Régis’s room, which means I can quietly get changed and search for the man who’s been taking up way too much space in my head.

He’s confusing the hell out of me.

He let me sleep in his bed last night. His new dorm—the one he just entirely refurbished. Clean sheets, fresh paint, not a single trace of the boy who came before. Just his scent on the pillow, sharp and stubborn and Noah. That’s got to mean something.

I never used to catch feelings. Not for my hookups, at least. And it’s not like I’ve had many. When you come with as much money as I do, there’s always shit to follow up. I mostly hire professionals—signed agreements, fixed times, secured payments. Sometimes I let them fuck me. No fucking hassle.

Is this what this is? Am I actually falling for him? I mean, I redid his office. Reworked his dorm. I want to know if he liked the books I got him.

I want to spoil him and make him fall apart on my tongue or in my ass.

Want to hear him groan and rumble and call my name.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a problem.

Because I don’t even want to want him. He’s my professor, eleven years my senior, but mostly, he’s not privileged.

Not part of my world. And he’s been ignoring me. Sneaking out of deals.

Which is why I’ve officially claimed him.

Not that he’s fully aware of it. But I am. And I will show him just what it’s like to be mine.

I’m going to take good care of him.

Putting on a hoodie, I pull the hood over my hair and leave the zipper open, all ready for an early football training.

My nerves are taut, like strings pulled too tight.

I haven’t heard from Noah, and everything feels brittle, as if it's about to snap.

I grab my bag, then head out, bumping straight into Gael.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me. Don’t sneak up on people like that unless you want to get kissed or kicked.”

“Did I now?” His green eyes glimmer with malice. Next to us, Arthur’s shouting has transformed into grunts, and the wall bangs rhythmically. “Are they fucking?”

“I don’t know, man, you’ll have to ask them.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you fucking? Your messages were kinda cryptic.”

“That was so you keep your nosy bitch curiosity out of my life, but you don’t seem to get the hint.” Shouldering past him, I head for the door.

He falls into step beside me like a shadow with a grudge.

“So, where were you?”

“Don’t you have Dominique to boss around?” I throw back.

“Semantics. Can a cousin not look out for his family?

“Oh, you are not looking out for me,” I scoff. “You just like poking at things that don’t concern you.”

He ignores my comment as he follows me down the stairs, his sneakers squishing on the wooden floors. “Is it anyone from here? Come on, man, you’ve got to give me something.”

Inside the canteen, Dominique sits with Maxime, Jo, and some random dude. They’re studying. Too early in the day for that kind of ambition, but hey, nerds will nerd.

“Before him, you were a playboy,” I state the obvious as we head for the drinks.

“Hmm.” Gael’s eyes zoom in on his boyfriend.

“So you just knew,” I snap my fingers. “Like that.”

“I did.” His gaze jumps back to mine, a crooked grin appearing on his lips. “What’s his name?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I think about Noah. “So, how did you know he was the one?”

Gael shrugs. “I felt it in my heart. I wanted to keep him for myself, didn’t want to share him. Come on, tell me his name.”

“Nah.” Pressing a bottle of water into his chest, I grab my own and leave a twenty-euro bill on the counter. “Keep the change. Thanks, cous.”

“Wait, what. You fucker. You coward!”

But I’m already on my way, flipping him the bird. I pass the group of nerds and blow Dominique a kiss, laughing when I hear Gael growl behind me. Possessive fucker, that’s what he is. Oh well, I guess that runs in the family.

S omeone’s sitting in my seat. Someone with that same dark hair, dark eyes, and same haughty expression as I carry.

“What do you want?” I ask Arthur. “And what are you doing in this class? Not that I don’t want you here. I just don’t want you here here.” I point at the chair. “My chair.” Plopping down on the seat next to him, I add, “Oh well, for family, I can make an exception.”

“Why do you think I’m here, huh? Where the fuck were you last night? And why the hell did you not reply to my messages?”

“I came back earlier, but you were busy.”

“I was busy ?”

“Very busy, bro. Too busy for me, if you catch my drift.”

He snorts, gaze already on his phone, as if being reminded of what he should be doing.

Or who he should be checking on. Since it is clear to the whole, fucking world my twin is obsessed with Régis, he’s been guarding his prized possession with ridiculous control.

Wanting to seal his fucking deal. He even has security shielding my poor little stepbrother. But hey, consequences, consequences.

“You’re up to something,” he says. “Even Dominique’s picked up on it.”

“Then perhaps Gael should put more effort into occupying him.”

“Ha. Funny. Ha.” Arthur’s dark eyes land on my own. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, man. Now, get your ass out of here, before Montague kicks it through the door himself.”

“Wouldn’t you like to see that?” He jokes, but the image leaves me fuming.

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch, touchy subject. Didn’t know you’d become such a geek for the guy.”

I scoff, flipping him off when Noah walks into the classroom, eyes zooming in on his every appearance. Cool. Collected. And motherfucking sexy.

Those glasses.

That messy hair.

That mouth . Full of denial and wet as sin.

There was nothing collected about him last night when he trembled against me, my cock deeply buried in his throat while I sucked the cum out of him.

Noah’s piercing gaze lands on Arthur, before it flips back to mine. And just like that, the balance tips. My blood chills. I’m no longer the golden boy, just the twin seated next to the smarter one. The quieter one. The one who doesn’t come with complications and chaos.

Arthur’s all clean lines and logic. Noah’s world is made of footnotes and control.

They have that in common. Noah likes to study. Lives by his research.

“Good morning, everyone. Today, we’ll be looking at the results of your case study regarding the Hawthorne effect.”

Next to me, Arthur lets out an appreciative whistle, the sound ringing through my ears.

I don’t even know if it’s pointed at Noah.

I don’t even know if it was meant as an appreciation, but I don't care. I react on instinct. A caged animal unleashed. My hands clench as rage catches me faster than a high-speed train. I’ve caught my brother’s nape before his next breath, holding his forehead down and against his table.

“Louis!” He barks. “What the fuck, bro?”

White hot fury prevails, rendering my fist powerless — because I can’t strike him, not really — but also in full control, because he knows I could. Because he knows I want to. And that’s enough to make him still.

“Louis. Let him go.” Suddenly, Noah stands next to me, and I realize I’m standing too, hovering over Arthur, who has his hands sprawled onto his table in resignation, waiting for me to snap out of it.

“I…”

Noah places his hand on my fist. My skin tingles everywhere. “He’s your brother.”

“He was…” He was looking at you. I watch as Noah unwraps my fingers and gently pulls my hand back, making my skin tingle.

“Ouch,” Arthur coughs, his face red, his amused grin directed at me. “Touchy, touchy subject, right, bro? Sorry, Professor, I appear to be in the wrong class.” I don’t miss the slow once-over he gives Noah, before he gives me a final, blinding smile.

The fucker. The fucking fucker. I did that, I walked right into his trap. I showed him my cards, all by myself. Laid them down like I was begging to be seen. And now he knows everything.

“Louis,” Noah barks as soon as my brother has left. “My office after class.”

I nod. But inside, I’m screaming. I don’t want to wait. I want to claw my way under his skin until I live there.

So I walk out, grinning like a sinner on his way to confession, already dreaming of how he’ll make me pay. But under the grin, I feel scraped raw, like something essential got torn open in front of everyone. I just hope he sees it and won’t flinch.