Page 41 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

“But then I found all these letters. She wrote to me every single month since I left. Can you imagine that?” He looks up, searching my gaze.

His smile is fragile, something close to hope shining through his despair.

I am speechless, utterly overwhelmed by his beauty.

“There was also a letter from Granddad. He was a member of the Brotherhood, Louis. I don’t know what that makes me now.

I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong, like there was something broken in me.

But if this was in my blood all along… then maybe I was never really free, Louis.

He speaks of mistakes and pissing off the wrong people. I needed space to think.”

“Where were you?”

“I went to the cemetery. Then the church. I needed space to read everything, to understand. When I got back, it was late. I saw people in the forest, wearing cloaks. I panicked, threw on Granddad’s and ran to my office.

That’s when someone scratched my door… and I followed them.

That’s when I walked into your gathering. ”

A silence stretches between us for a moment.

Noah’s eyes flicker with the weight of what he’s just admitted.

I watch him as he stares past me, jaw tight.

I know that look. It’s the look of someone measuring the cost of truth.

And maybe he’s only just realizing the line he crossed last night wasn’t just a threshold, it was a fracture.

A split between who he was and who he might now have to become.

“I just don’t understand. We weren’t rich.”

“Well, you own forty acres of forest land. Perhaps some secrets aren’t meant to see the daylight. Where did you go downstairs?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Around the corridor from my office. I found a hidden door.”

“Is that the same door you used that night when I found you in the Atrium?”

He nods.

“And that noise on your door? It could have been one of my brothers, though they shouldn’t be hanging out there.”

“I decided to go down and see. Perhaps get answers to my questions.”

I let out an appreciative whistle. “Bad ass. I like it. So, you came stalking down whoever had pissed you off and landed right in our gathering?”

“Yes.” Noah’s grip on my thigh tightens. He shifts slightly, and I see the hurt sharpen into something else. Defiance, maybe. Or fear he’s too proud to name. “That’s when they burned the shed,” he says, voice low but steady. “You saw that, right? You were all staring at me. Why?”

“Because you were wearing a different mask. We knew you were an outsider.” I stare at the hand he has wrapped around my thigh. “Show me the letter.”

Noah hesitates but quickly cracks. Snatching it from under his pillow, which is the cutest thing, he whispers, “Careful, please.”

I quickly scan the message. My eyes caught the signature at the bottom: Noah Martin.

My grin sharpens. “So your granddad made a mistake then pissed off the wrong people.” I keep on reading, frown deepening when I read the part about letters.

“He kept your mother’s letters aside, knowing he wouldn’t post them.

He wanted to protect you. So, you took your grandmother’s name, huh?

” I murmur, piecing it all together now.

The name, the distance, the secrecy. Makes sense.

And it suits him, somehow. Sounds like something old and sacred and sharp-edged, like him.

“I did. My teenage self was angry and didn’t want them to search for me.”

“Your adult self is often angry, too.” I wink when he snorts at that. I’m right though, he’s a prickly, sexy fuck.

“Your granddad hoped that you were safe, wherever you were.”

Noah snorts. “My life wasn't safe, Louis. That had nothing to do with my family. It was a choice I made.”

“Was it…a choice?”

He shakes his head, but I don’t miss how his breath stutters. Or how his nails dig into my skin. Or how he closes off the expression in those wild eyes. Hello, again.

“What made you leave home?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” He presses his lips into a fine line.

“Baby…”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No.”

“Okay.” I place my hand over his. “Okay. Why don’t we eat something, hmm? You must be starving.”

Noah huffs. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you can’t take care of yourself the way I can take care of you, baby. That’s why.”

Noah’s nails dig deeper into my skin. His stomach rumbles, so I grab a croissant and nudge it against his lips, watching greedily when they open for me.

Noah chews, licking his lips before he swallows. I watch his Adam’s apple, coated in a two-day stubble, and I want to trace my tongue over it and lick him up. He looks at me like I’m not just his future, but the proof that he survived.

Noah watches me. “Who are they? The one who spoke? The one with the cane?”

A beat of unease coils in my gut. I do and I don’t. I’ve never seen him take charge like that before. And the way he spoke? Like he owned every man in that room. It wasn’t just ritual, it was personal. Dangerous.

I shake my head. “No. I mean, he goes by Monsieur Z. He usually only comes to get off. I’ve never heard him speak this much or see him lead a gathering.

” I think of what Dominique said about the two strangers following Noah down.

“The one with the cane is Elder Jacques, he’s our trainer.

He’s a pervert and a criminal, but also a member of the board.

But I don’t know where they live or how they get here.

I never thought of it, they were always just there, you know? ”

“He spoke of revenge. And he stared straight at me when he said it. I didn’t even realize I was the target until he laughed. Until he made it personal.”

Louis stares at him for a beat too long, processing. “He’s never taken charge like that before,” I admit slowly. “Not once. That’s what scares me.”

If Z knew it was Noah, then this was more than Brotherhood theatrics. This was a warning. A declaration.

“Yeah, I heard that. Although, to be honest, they often speak in those kinds of terms. It’s all very… traditional, I suppose. Very formal.”

But even as I say it, a splinter of unease wedges deeper into my gut. Because the shed wasn’t symbolic. It wasn’t theatre. It was personal. And I’m not sure I can lie to myself about that anymore.

“Do you think those words were meant directly for me?”

“Who knows. Honestly, it’s hard to tell. Burning the shed was a dick move, and illegal, if you’re asking me. The shed sits on your land.”

Noah nods. I watch in fascination as his eyes darken, hardened in their intensity.

He’s returning to being the man I cornered all those months ago.

The man I blackmailed and forced into the exact corner I wanted him in.

The one who loses control when playing with fire and unleashes like a madman.

The survivor. “Well, he can come for me. I’m not scared. ”

Not scared. Just furious. Because I still don’t know what I did to deserve it.

He didn’t just burn a shed. He burned the only proof Noah had that his parents once loved each other. That’s not a threat, that’s a signature.

And I see it now. How shaken he is, even if he hides it behind defiance. He’s not just in trouble. He’s cracking under the weight of too many truths. If I don’t pull him out of this spiral, someone else will push him deeper. And I’m not letting that happen.

Leaning in, I lick off the crumbs from his lips. “Liar. So, your real name is Noah Guinand, like Melody. I should have known.”

He watches me as I text Amadou, nibbling from another croissant. I ignore the family thread. Natalie’s going crazy over this weekend, since we’ll all be home. I swear she was meant to be a Deveraux, just as possessive and clingy as the rest of us.

He needs air. Space. Something real. And I need to understand him, not just what happened last night, but who he became when he disappeared from the world. Paris holds his past. And maybe, if I walk it with him, I’ll finally get to carry his future.

Upon reading Amadou’s reply, I look up at Noah with a grin. “You’ve got one hour.”

He pauses mid-chew. “For what?”

“Before we leave.”

“Leave? Where are we going?”

This isn’t just a date. It’s a line in the sand. He told me everything, or nearly. Now I want to see it for myself. I want to earn the parts of him that don’t come easily.

“Afraid, Professor?”

He tilts his chin, his glare the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Never.”

“Good. Consider this a date.”

“A date?”

“When I asked Gael what boyfriends do, he advised me to take you out on a date.”

“Gael? Boyfriends ?” He shakes his head, bewildered.

“Yes.” I smile. “But I wasn’t sure where to take you. Thanks to this…I know now. So, thank you very much, situation, and let’s go and slay those demons.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Noah mumbles, though his cock doesn’t share those same concerns. Hard, it brushes snugly against the crease between my ass cheeks.

“Yes, you do. You understand perfectly." I shift, letting my lips trail along the shell of his ear, letting my weight settle purposefully on top of him. "And once we have buried our filthy little secrets and know everything there is to know about each other, we will talk to Dad. He’s a member of the board, and he will help us clean up your business. Besides, by then we’ll be able to discuss some other things with him as well. "

Our eyes meet. I wiggle my brows. He frowns. He knows what I’m going to say, I can see it in the way he fights it, searching for a way out. But we both know there is no fucking way out of this. He’s stuck with me now. I give him my biggest grin.

He shakes his head. “Louis?—”

“No.”

“You can’t possibly?—”

“I can and I will. This is just the beginning.”

“I’m a mess?—”

“Who’s stuck with me now?”

“Fuck.” I feel his dick thickening against my ass.

Leaning forward, I stretch my body out against his and brush our mouths together. “Call me that again.”

“What?”

“That beautiful word.”

A sly grin curves his mouth. “Sweetheart?”

“Hmmm… again.”

“Sweetheart.” He smiles through the word.

I lick his lips, humming against them. “Again.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Yes, Professor. Please, fuck me.”

And that…he does.

His fingers dig into my hips, breath hot against my neck as he flips me beneath him with a growl that shoots straight to my spine. And fuck, I let him. I want him wild, unguarded, mine.

He fucks me like I’m the only truth left in a world that’s on fire.

Slow, like he’s trying to brand me into memory before everything else crumbles.

Like he knows the Brotherhood might come knocking and he wants to leave something behind they can’t touch, deep, claiming every inch.

And when he finally comes, teeth buried in my shoulder, I know something's changed.

Because this isn’t just sex.

This is a promise.

And I’ll burn the whole damn world down to keep it.