Page 42 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

LOUIS

T he rain has washed away the pile of ashes where the shed once stood, turned to ashes altogether with Noah’s recollections.

Noah…who halts and stares at the now bare space, a forlorn look in his eyes. The air still smells of damp earth and char, and the ground beneath us squelches faintly with each step, muddy from the rain. “If this is your definition of slaying demons, we're too late.”

“Of course it isn’t,” I say gently, lacing my fingers with his. “Come with me, I have something better in mind.”

“Where are we going?”

“To rewrite your memory, baby.”

“To rewrite what ?” Noah tries to pull his hand back, but I hold on tight. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory. In fact, if I recall well, I received a threat I can’t ignore.”

“Yes, you can. Fuck them and follow me.”

Making our way through the forest to the landing space, he abruptly halts when he sees the helicopter. “What the…”

“Good morning, Messieurs .” Jean, our pilot, waves through the open window of the cockpit, eyes dancing with amusement.

I told him that Gael had advised me to take Noah on a date and revealed my plans for the next few days.

I mean, why not? They’re good plans, and I’ve known him my entire life. “Ready for take-off?”

“Where are we going?” Noah asks again. His suspicious glare, mixed with his stubble and those sexy-as-fuck glasses, gives him the perfect professor look. The only thing missing is a stylish trench coat, but don't worry; we’ll go shopping today.

“I told you. We'll take a trip down memory lane, baby.” Before the next strike hits,” I add under my breath, more to myself than him.

“I want to see where you started, baby. And make sure they know exactly who you belong to when they come for us again.” One of our helpers opens the door.

“After you.” I leave a quick kiss on his cheek before pushing him into the helicopter.

“Are you really taking me to Paris? No way.”

“Took you long enough to catch up.” Noah scowls at me like he hates me, but I see right through it. See right through him. He’s excited to be in a helicopter, with the way he stares outside for most of the journey, his eyes wide with wonder.

Yep, we’re going to slay those demons once and for all.

But I haven’t forgotten what brought us here.

The shed, the threat, the way Z looked at Noah like he already had a plan in motion.

This isn’t about escaping, it’s about regrouping.

About claiming what's mine before the next strike comes. I’ve already texted Dad, and he said he’d look into it.

Of course, he doesn’t know I took the helicopter.

He would probably kill me for it. Well, not literally, but it would worry the shit out of him.

Dad’s always been protective of the two of us, with Mom passing away when we were so young.

Like the time he drove four hours in the middle of the night just because I didn’t answer my phone.

Turns out I was asleep at a friend’s place.

He never said a word about it, just handed me a sandwich and told me to come home.

I’ve never felt so fucking safe in my life.

During the journey, Noah looks outside, caught in his own thoughts, although he spreads his arm wide to let me curl up against him and press my chest against his side, my nose buried in the dip of his throat.

I’d gladly give him a penny for his thoughts, or a million euros.

I want to know it all. Want to know every single emotion that goes through his head, every single battle he’s had to fight.

I want to erase the hurt and replace it with joy, love, passion, fucking me.

I want it with a fierceness I’ve never had for anything else in my life.

“I haven’t been here for a while,” Noah says after we leave the helicopter and walk into the busy streets of Paris.

“Neither have I.” We cross boulevards and admire the string of small boutiques. In one hand I’m holding a large, overpriced latte, the other one is blanketed by Noah’s large one. His fingers trace the swirl of my tattoos as he takes a drink.

“Do you always come by helicopter?” He asks.

“Nah. That was to impress you. Did it work?”

“Yes.”

His admission brings an instant smile to my face. Fuck yes, it worked. I’m irresistible and I know it. And damn if it doesn’t make me want to smirk so wide my face cracks. He said yes, didn’t he? That’s all the proof I need. “That makes you happy?”

“Very.” Something swells in my chest that not even his snort and shake of his head can chase away.

I want to impress Noah, want to make up for our age difference, want to make it fucking worth it for him to spend his time with me.

All his time with me. “You’re in for quite the ride, Professor.

I’m going to impress the hell out of you. ”

Bringing our hands up, he slides them over his shoulder, pulling me in until we're flush, mouth seeking my ear. “Are you now?” His breath teases my skin, his words heating my insides. Part of me wants him to press me against the wall and kiss the life out of me. But even my dick can be patient. Well, not really, but my heart can. And right now, I’ve brought Noah here to open up to me.

I want to discover that part of him that he has kept hidden from the entire world.

Want to understand what happened in his life, or perhaps in his grandfather’s life, that drew the attention of a brother of the Alpha Fraternarii.

We cross the Seine and take a moment to admire the set of ancient bridges. Boats are dotted all over the river; tourists take exclusive tours, locals have their own sloop. People are walking down by the riverside or high up next to the main roads, where traffic creates a chaos of honks and shouts.

There’s a strange peace here, so different from the ash and threat we left behind. But even as Noah talks, I keep one eye on our surroundings. Z’s expression hasn’t left my mind. Just because we’ve come to Paris doesn’t mean we’ve outrun what’s coming.

“I never intended to share my past life with anyone.” It’s a heavy confession, one I feel down in my stomach.

He shrugs. “But I guess you’re right—” He turns back to face an old building.

“Now that we’re here, it feels good to have you by my side.

Just know that…I’ve done many things…that are not pretty. And I’m not proud of them.”

I say nothing to that, his words creating a distance I’ll prevent from happening. Squeezing his hand, I won’t let go.

“I want to show you something.” Noah braids his fingers with mine. “This way.”

We leave the main boulevard and enter another charming street lined with ancient buildings and lovely shops. Suddenly, we’re standing in a small park. It looks more like an inner court by its size. It’s cosy, hidden, with only a few trees standing in its middle. The entire green zone is walled.

“Pretty amazing, right?” Noah walks us inside, then stops, looks around as if seeing the place for the first time.

“When I first came to Paris, I spent a lot of my time here. It felt safe, you know? The quiet, the stillness… just sitting here in the sunlight, with no one yelling or watching, felt like I could breathe again.” He drags me to the only bench that sits by the trees, then crouches down and brushes his finger over the peeling, moss-green paint. “Yeah. It’s still here. Look.”

Noah lives here

It’s not the letters themselves that make my stomach clench.

It’s the aching loneliness behind them, the quiet echo of a boy who carved his existence into wood because no one else saw him.

The little star beside his name isn’t just decoration.

It’s a constellation of hope, a flicker in the dark that someone might one day look up and see him.

I see him now. And I swear, as long as I breathe, that star won’t go unnoticed again.

My chest tightens. A fierce, burning protectiveness rises inside me.

He’ll never be that alone again. Not on my fucking watch.

It’s the meaning that’s carved into eternity.

That, and the little star that sits next to it.

I bite my lip. I’ve waited for him to open up to me for a while now, though right now, I’m not sure what to say.

“A lonely star. Fuck, that hits me straight in the gut, baby. And you slept here?” I finally managed.

He looks up at me through heavy-lashed eyes.

His gaze is turbulent. “Yeah. Security found me after two weeks. They wanted me gone at night, but I paid them off. I managed to stay for a few more months before the new guys arrived. I didn’t have any money left.

” He gets up and wipes his hands clean, then takes his coffee back out of my hand.

“It didn’t stop me from staying here during the day. ”

“And during nighttime?”

“At first, anything I could get. There are places where you can sign up for the night, but having a roof and a bed doesn’t make it safer.

Minors get priority. I was often lucky. I’d wander around here, then in the evening, usually as late as possible, I’d make my way to the shelter.

Later, I managed to rent a shared bedroom. ”

“A shared bedroom. Doesn’t that sound ominous?” I half-tease. Damn it, I want him to fill the gaps, tell me what the fuck he means. Of course, he doesn't.

I don’t miss the coins he leaves with every young beggar who doesn’t look like a junkie.

“Do you want me to buy him a house?” I ask when I catch him staring at a young man sitting on a blanket.

Noah snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Try me. I’d buy him the moon if it made you smile.”

“Stop. You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, because I’m just a dumb rich kid?”

“Louis…”

“Don’t tell me that’s how you see me.”

“I don’t. But don’t behave like one.”

My nostrils flare. I behave the way I fucking want to behave. Even if his words sting a little, I’m not about to let him see it. He’s not wrong but fuck him for being right.