Page 32 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

NOAH

T he sun’s barely up when I slip out from under the covers, leaving Louis tangled in my sheets and the smell of vanilla clinging to my skin. He murmurs something in his sleep, but doesn’t wake. I don’t want him to. Not yet.

I move quietly, slip on my boots, grab my jacket, and head out before the weight of morning catches up with me.

My land.

I’ve been coming here more and more lately, alone, mostly.

Just to breathe. Over the past weeks, it’s become a quiet habit.

I used to walk this path with Granddad when I was a kid, his hand on my shoulder, teaching me the names of trees I can’t remember anymore.

Back then, it felt lighter. Now it’s different.

Lonelier. But also mine. It took me weeks to accept it, even longer to look at it as something I could touch something that was really mine.

I can’t recall the last thing that truly belonged to me. Maybe nothing ever did. Not the borrowed books I loved, not the front-row seat I once earned in class, both taken back without warning. They felt like mine. That was enough.

The morning air tastes sharp, wet with dew.

This land is what’s left. Of Granddad. Of them .

Mom and Dad. A life that once held me. I remember Mom pressing wildflowers into notebooks, Dad showing me how to whistle with an acorn cap right here.

Their laughter used to live in this air.

Maybe that’s why I keep coming back, because some part of them still does.

I know this trail the way I know my own breath, each twist, each jagged stone memorized by muscle.

I don’t expect company, not this early, not after leaving Louis half-asleep in my bed. But somehow I know it’s him before I even turn. Something in the air shifts, in the footsteps, in the way the forest responds.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

My heart stumbles. A hush in my chest, sharp and warm.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

His voice is so familiar now. So goddamn intimate. Louis steps through the trees like a wolf, all fluid menace and elegance. His dark mane is untamed like the man himself, strands nearly brushing the collar of his coat.

“You’re stalking me again,” I say.

He bares his teeth in a smile. “You make it so easy.”

“You were still asleep,” I add, shaking my head. “You woke up fast.”

He shrugs, grinning wider. “You’re not that quiet, Professor.”

Something sparks in me. Not fear, something closer to the thrill of a dare. His grin dares me to act, to flee, to make this a game.

It feels reckless, ridiculous, but maybe that’s the point. To remind myself I’m alive. To let him chase me instead of all the shadows I carry.

I run.

I don’t know why. Instinct maybe. I just bolt, feet slamming the earth, heartbeat stuttering in my throat. Behind me, I hear him curse and chase.

“The fuck? Noah!”

Laughter bubbles in my throat. I dodge branches, leap over roots, legs stretching with each pounding stride. The feeling is exhilarating.

I want him to catch me. Want him to drag me down like we’re reenacting some myth, tangled in roots and hunger.

Let him turn the forest floor into a dare I can't outrun, one that stirs something primal in me, equal parts fear and surrender, like I want to be caught just to know what he’ll do once I am.

I take a hard right. Then a left. Louis is fast, but I’m wiry and determined.

I’m almost to the old well when he lunges and slams into me like a wave breaking against shore.

We tumble, breathless, into the dirt, his weight pinning mine, laughter caught somewhere between a growl and a gasp.

The ground is soft beneath us, the air full of crushed green and the wild scent of him.

“Got you.”

The forest whispers with morning birdsong and the soft sigh of leaves.

Damp earth clings to my palms as we crash down, the sharp bite of thorns pressing near.

The cool dirt feels rough beneath my back, twigs prickling my skin.

The air smells of moss and pine, sharp and wild like the forest itself, untamed and whispering secrets.

He doesn’t pin me. Doesn’t hurt me. Just straddles my hips and leans over me with a crooked grin, hair falling forward like a dark curtain.

“You’re crazy,” I pant, breathless with more than just the run.

“You like it.”

I do.

And I hate that I do. The heat of his body above mine, the weight of him pressing me into the earth, the way we both pretend we aren’t shaking from more than adrenaline. I don’t want to want this. But I do.

“Tell me why you’re here at seven in the morning?” I ask.

“Because you’d left the bed,"he pouts, pressing our foreheads together. “And I didn’t want to miss this.”

“Miss what?”

“You. Here. Where you always come when you need to think. I know this place matters to you.”

I blink. “You’ve known?”

He shrugs, a half-smile playing on his lips. “You talk in your sleep sometimes, Professor. Sometimes I’m not sure if you’re kidding or not. And you always smell like soil after your Sunday mornings. I wanted to see it for myself.”

I roll my eyes.“You’re unbelievable.”

He smirks, voice low and amused. “No, you 're unbelievable, Professor.”

I groan and shove him. He laughs, rolling to the side and pulling me down beside him.

“Careful, now, or I’d say you’ve got the hots for me.”

I don’t answer, but the grin won’t leave my face. The flush burns too close to pleasure, too soft to show. I scramble up and take off through the trees like a dare. If he sees the smile, he’ll know I love it. And I don’t want to love it.

“Noah!” he yells, laughing, chasing after me.

We tear through the woods again, shoulder to shoulder, dodging roots and branches.

This isn’t a path I’ve taken before—at least, not like this.

We’re veering off anything familiar, chasing a feeling more than a direction.

No path, just instinct and the reckless rhythm of our breath.

The forest doesn’t just grow, it guards.

Like it remembers something, bleeding to keep it buried.

Then Louis stops.

Dead still. Breathing hard. Eyes wide.

Like he’s seen something impossible.

I skid to a halt beside him, panting, and my mouth falls open.

He stares, wide-eyed. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know,” I breathe, the hair rising on the back of my neck. There’s awe in my voice, but something else too, something crawling under my skin. Not fear. Not quite. More like the dizzy excitement of stepping too close to the edge of a rooftop, unsure if you’ll jump or be pulled.

We step closer in tandem, breath catching in our throats. I’ve been through these woods a hundred times, but never this far. Never like this. Maybe I was never meant to find it alone.

A monstrous plant twice our height looms ahead, tangled with brutal thorns that glint crimson in the morning light. Its stems bulge and twist like something born of a fever dream, all serrated edges and veins like splashes of blood.

“Is it…bleeding?”

“No. I think that’s just the way it grows.”

I let out a low whistle. “That thing looks like it eats people.”

“Imagine this in the dark.”

“No, thank you.”

We circle it slowly, carefully, our steps dragging into a wide arc, like we’re orbiting a sleeping giant neither of us wants to wake.

I notice the arc we’re making is unnaturally perfect.

Circular. And at the heart of it, something gleams beneath the layers of vine.

Maybe glass. Maybe metal. We don’t know if something is underneath, but it appears to be.

“It’s beautiful,” I admit.

He glances at me, almost shy. “You think so?”

“Terrifying. But yeah, still beautiful in its own kind of way.”

The thorns catch the light like glass blades, seductive and sharp, just like him.

Later, when he smiles with berry-stained lips and dares me to imagine what's beneath the vines, the same gleam flashes in his eyes, dangerous and beautiful. There’s something about beauty that can wound.

Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to it. To him.

“It appears this monster is wrapped around something else. See that? It looks like glass.”

“Hmm. Maybe? I’m not sure. Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“Ohh, do I like the sound of that." Louis throws me a wicked grin. “Want to cut open the damn plant?”

“You’re such a vandal.”

“But you like my plan, Professor goody two-shoes.”

“Excuse me?” I scoff.

“Such a proper man. Always on time. Always prepared. Always so very serious.” He shrugs. “A goody two-shoes.” He winks at me, and a sexy grin spreads across his lips. “I bet someone like you can’t keep up with someone like me.”

I smile like a fool. My entire body buzzes. We linger a moment longer, both pretending we’re not reluctant to leave the plant behind. Then we turn back through the forest, side by side, breathing in the cool morning air, the quiet thrill between us.

When we reach campus, Louis heads up the stairs, already pulling out his phone, while I detour to the canteen to grab enough breakfast to feed an entire household. I’m panting, but not from running.

It’s not busy yet; most students are still lounging in their rooms.

Gael Deveraux joins me at the counter, looking crisp and sharp with his painted green eyes. “Good morning, Professor.”

“Morning.”

“That’s a big, big breakfast.” His voice is lethal, smooth, and treacherous. Suspicious . He traces a finger over the bowl with blackberries I grabbed for Louis.

“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I hurry for the exit, climbing the stairs as fast as I can with the heavy tray in hand.

When I can finally kick the door to my room closed, Louis comes out of the shower.

Whistling in appreciation at the heaps of food, he heads for the closet and takes his sweet time preparing his school uniform, like he owns the place.

Maybe he does. He started leaving his stuff around after the time I first fucked him.

He has a whole section in my closet now, and he keeps adding things to it.

I tell myself it’s nothing. That it doesn’t mean anything.

But it does. And that’s exactly the problem.

His hair is slicked back except for one raven strand that curls up his forehead. He smells like vanilla and citrus. He gazes my way, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I put the tray onto the table. Louis snatches the bowl with berries and shoves a bunch in his mouth, making his cheeks pop.

He licks a smear of juice off his thumb, slow and unbothered. Then he plucks a berry and holds it up to my mouth. I hesitate, then bite. He grins like he’s won something.

“I want to know what's underneath that monster.” Unlocking his phone he shows me a receipt. An order of garden material has been confirmed. Hedge cutters, gloves, heavy-duty trash bags.

“Garden equipment?”

“You wanted to cut those weeds, right?”

“No, you wanted to. I just asked if you could see what was underneath.”

He grins and plops another handful of fruit into his mouth, mashing away happily. “What do you hope you’ll find underneath?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“Of course you have. A bit of creativity, Professor.”

“Just enough to keep up with you,” I murmur.

Leaning back, he grabs my favourite book from the pile by my bed. It’s the only book that has traveled with me from home to Paris, then back here. He opens it on the page where I left the bookmark, then turns it my way in a silent question.

Clearing my throat, I pull my glasses back, then start reading.

Louis continues eating, then slips on his school uniform.

He softly hums to himself, but I know he’s listening to my every word.

Louis thinks he’s nothing more than a sexy playboy, but I see right through his golden exterior, to the restless mind beneath, the longing he hides behind every grin, and the quiet fear that he might never be truly known.

He’s the breath of fresh air I never knew I needed. And I let him in. Into this land, into my mornings, into the spaces no one’s touched since they died. That should terrify me more than it does.