Page 49 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

NOAH

i don't know how, but you removed a lot from the original chapter: My eyes flutter open, agony blooming behind them like a migraine forged in fire. I’m sprawled in my office, skull throbbing as if nails were hammered straight through it.

The room pulses with eerie shadows, the kind that dance just beyond reason.

I blink again, the sick glow painting everything in ghost light.

Slowly getting up, my hands search the edge of my desk for support.

The room is dark. I’m afraid of the dark.

I’ve always been. Too many nights spent hiding in alleys, listening to footsteps that meant danger.

Darkness was never peace. It was survival.

The corridor is quiet, but I know the castle isn’t abandoned. Somewhere in these echoing halls, Louis is out there, alone. My mind scrambles to piece it together. He was just here, wasn’t he? We were together. Then…what? The stone. The masked man. The broken window. Did they take him? Did he run?

Panic coils through my gut.

I call him, but he doesn’t pick up, nor has he sent any messages.

“Tell me you’re safe?” I whisper into his voicemail, rushing toward the corridor that always sets my nerves on edge.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out. I didn’t mean to push you away.

I thought I was doing the right thing... but I was wrong.”

And now? I don’t even know where he is. Every second feels like a lifetime. I failed him. He’s in trouble. I feel it in my bones.

My hand trembles as I open the app. And there it is, his last location.

Inside the castle. Close to my office.

My chest caves. I know exactly where he is.

There’s a thunderous crack as the front door of Monterrey slams open. The sound shudders through the stone like cannon fire. Shouts echo down the hall, footsteps thundering like an oncoming war.

The Deverauxs have arrived, and with them, a storm I can no longer outrun.

But none of that matters. Not now. Let them shout, let the walls crumble.

Louis is somewhere down there, and he needs me.

I round the corner, welcomed by the flickering light, now a strobe of dread.

I’d fixed it before, but someone messed it up once more.

My heart hammers as I descend the stairs, calling him again, each unanswered ring slicing deeper than the last. The vibrating sound is close now.

I follow it, every step a vow: I will find him. I will bring him back.

And once I’ve brought Louis to safety, I’ll never leave him alone after today.

He can make it official all he likes. Even if it means my career is over.

Once he’s back in my arms, he’ll stay there until the day I die.

Too many years have passed, too much insecurity has plagued my fucking heart. No more. Louis only deserves the best.

I whisper into the stale dark, “Where are you, little devil?”

Then I hear it. The sound of voices is unmistakable.

I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I follow their monotone rasp until I reach for another narrow corridor that houses a set of doors.

One of them is open. Sliding my knife from its holster, I use the tip to ease the rest of the door open.

My heart pounds so violently in my chest, I feel the sickening sound of it in my throat, like it's trying to rip its way out. Louis sits in the middle of the room, attached to a chair. He’s slumped forward, his dark hair a mess.

Injuries form bruises on his lower arm, together with smears of blood.

A projector plays against the wall, its light forming a uneasy strobe in the darkness of the room.

I rush toward him and pull him back by the shoulders. There’s a gaping wound in his forehead, blood slicking his nose, his lashes, the contours of his face. Fuck. I wipe it with the back of my sleeve. My little devil, who takes pride in his ethereal beauty, is now all bloodied because of me.

“Louis?” I brush a hand through his hair. His forehead feels clammy. “Sweetheart, please wake up. I can’t lose you…” My voice cracks as a wave hits my insides, bringing the past and the present together in an unwanted collision. “Please. I can’t live without you. Come on. Wake up.”

“Oh, he will soon,” someone says behind me. Monsieur Z. “Here, let me help you.”

He throws a bucket of water over Louis. The second he sputters, I’m already moving. I slam Z hard against the wall, the jolt of impact echoing through the dark. My knife is at his throat before he can breathe. His mask splits at the edge, revealing more of his face.

He laughs. Low, guttural, unhinged. Even with my knife at his throat, he doesn’t flinch.

“Perfect timing, Professor,” he sneers. “Although I should warn you, Louis won’t be happy to see you here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I shove him again, harder. The back of his head slams against the wall. The sickening sound gives me a flicker of satisfaction, but it doesn’t last, because behind me, Louis rouses.

“Noah.” He sounds tired, his voice rough.

But before he says anything more, I see it, his lips parted, like he’s been trying to scream for hours.

Has it really been that long? Time collapses around us, hazy and indistinct.

But it’s written in his eyes, in the tremble of his mouth.

However long I was unconscious, he’s been here, waiting, suffering.

Nothing comes out, not pain, not blame. Just silence.

And when he finally breathes my name, it’s like a thread snapping loose in my chest.

There’s something else there. Something that makes my stomach churn. Is it anger? No. It’s worse. It’s grief.

“I’ve come to collect you, sweetheart.” My gaze is still on Monsieur Z., my knife still pressed against his flesh.

He laughs, the sound making my blood boil. The tip of my knife breaches his skin, and I slowly drag it to his collarbone, the wound forming a red cut that makes him wince through his grimace. “He doesn’t want you,” he manages. The knife halts.

I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s over, Professor. I showed him the paper you wrote. The one you thought was safely hidden in your desk drawer. You really didn’t notice the cameras I installed in your office?”

I stagger back like he punched the air from my lungs. Cameras. My desk. That drawer. He’d been watching me for God knows how long. Had Louis seen the paper himself? Or did he watch the footage? That envelope was sealed. Confidential. Deadly.

Z doesn’t advance. He doesn’t need to. Just leans there, his smile curving like a knife, proud of the chaos he’s unleashed.

He tilts his head, voice dipped in theatrical cruelty.

“Oh, and the thorns?” he says casually. “That was my little touch. Neither of you knew the shed existed. That’s what made it perfect.

A hidden stage for memory, warped just enough.

I wrapped it in thorns because pain needs a boundary, don’t you think?

A little altar to remind you that this legacy doesn't forget. It bleeds.”

I don’t need to look at Louis to feel it, his silence, his heartbreak. The sting of betrayal radiates from him in waves.

Still, I try. “It’s not what you think.”

“No?” Louis sounds so tired, so small. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. Even when he huffs, his breathy voice is filled with sorrow. “I thought you loved me, too. I thought everything we had meant something. Even when you pushed me away… I still hoped you’d choose me.”

“Aww…how sad,” Zachary taunts. “But those are the ways of love. Self-destruction. Pitiful. Your future is over, Professor. Just like your granddad, you played a big game. Just like him, you lost.”

“You fucking asshole!” I roar. This time, my knife slashes him.

It’s a calculated attack, despite my turbulent emotions.

I want to wound him, not kill him. Still, it’s meant to be vicious and painful, the cut leading all the way from the side of the neck down to his Adam’s apple.

The fucker goes down, and I make my way instantly to Louis, grabbing hold of his attached wrists.

His head is lolled back, and his eyes are glazed as he watches me fumbling with the ropes.

“You wrote that paper,” he breathes. “Why?”

I pause. “I was angry. It wasn’t meant for anyone to see. It was a draft. A thought experiment, locked away. I never planned to use it, never submitted it. It was just something I needed to write down to survive the moment.”

“So you turned your back on me?” So typical of Louis to sound surprised, even a little indignant, despite his current state. “I would always have stayed by your side. You betrayed me.” The words come out in a whisper that punches me straight in the gut.

Footsteps echo through the corridor, but I’m caught in his deathtrap. Caught in those charcoal eyes. In the hurt. The pain. The disappointment.

“I didn’t want to. Listen to me, Louis, I didn’t mean to. I was bitter. You gave me the perfect opportunity to get an inside glimpse.”

“All I wanted was some fun. You used my intentions.”

“Don’t say that. You bribed me. I needed to—” fight back. Always fighting for survival. I look away, suddenly embarrassed. “You turned me into a ghost of the man I swore I’d never become. All I wanted was to?—”

“Louis!” Arthur’s voice, raw and panicked, barrels down the hall ahead of them. The sound of boots, frantic and fast, fills the corridor outside. The family is coming. They’re almost here.

He scoffs. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

More footsteps.

“Louis!”

Someone pushes me aside. Hard.

The projector hums louder, and I feel the cold bloom of recognition in my gut before the first grainy frame flickers to life.

The screen glows with grainy footage, our most private moment, now defiled.

Horror grips my gut as I realize what they’re seeing.

Louis’ family is all over the place, ignoring me like I’m not there, but I feel their judgment like knives pressed to my skin.