Page 16 of Crown of Thorns
No door.
I reach out, nerves pooling in my stomach, touching the paint, and I swear it’s like that bird can fly out at any time, stabbing my neck with its beak.
I yank my hand back, heart racing. I turn on my heel and half-jog, half-stumble through the flickering corridor, the shadows licking at my heels. The further I go, the more thehallway begins to resemble the world I know. Solid, familiar, lit by emergency bulbs.
By the time I reach the last stretch, I’m moving fast, driven by instinct. I push through the heavy door and emerge into the reception hall. The soft glow of a night light washes the space in warmth, and I finally breathe again.
The main doors creak open under my hand. I step outside into the storm’s fury, letting the rain lash against my face. It’s cold and unrelenting, but I welcome it. Anything to shake off that eerie stillness.
I stand there, soaked and shivering, like some idiot caught between fear and fascination.
The outside wall of the castle rises like a dark monolith, its stones slick with rain. Near the upper arch, lights form a circle, crows mid-flight, their wings frozen in luminous motion. Their shadows ripple across the wall, twisting and flaring like whispered secrets.
A message. A warning. Or maybe… an invitation.
Either way, they’re watching.
5
LOUIS
Professor Montague is playing a little game of hide and seek. He believes that if he ignores it, it’s not there. Well, guess what…I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. He can’t ghost me out of existence. Not when I've already seeped under his skin.
Class is a mess when I finally make my way inside. I’m usually on time, but for this class, I’ve made sure to arrive fashionably late.
Just to rile him up.
Making my way to the seat in the front row, it has been kept vacant for me, I slap one of the guys against the back of his head. “Dude, behaviour.”
He snorts, but removes his feet from his desk and pushes his chair back on four legs. Chatter dims as everyone opens their books. David flicks his cigarette outside and slides the window closed.
“Everyone!” Professor Montague shouts, but his turbulent gaze is on me. I don’t know what goes on in that pretty head of his, but I’ll find out. This goodie-two-shoes who has the reputation to fight for social equality in the world.
Oh, I’ll show him how to fight. I’ll show him how to lose. He may have given me back the phone, but that doesn’t mean shit. We’ve only just gotten started.
If social equality is what he wants, he’s in the wrong place.
“This class started fifteen minutes ago,” he barks, “but for some reason, you are the only group who can’t respect the rules. You are late, Deveraux. Next time, I will not let you into my classroom.”
“No?” I tilt my head, letting the challenge bloom slowly across my face. “You think you can stop me?”
Around us, the room goes deathly still. A held breath. Anticipation sharpening the air like a blade.
Noah doesn’t flinch. “Yes.” His voice is low but firm. A warning. A line drawn.
I step forward, just enough to make everyone hold their breath. “You’ll have to try harder than that, Professor.”
The twitch in his eye betrays him. He’s rattled. But he doesn’t rise to it. Instead, he turns to the class. “This is to all of you. Don’t let it happen again. And David, inside this building, there is a non-smoking policy. Next time I catch you smoking, I will report you to the director.”
David glances my way. I nod.
“Got it, Professor.”
Even he knows who really sets the tone.
Noah clears his throat. “Well then, let’s begin.”
And just like that, his behaviour switches 180 degrees. The guy’s a fucking genius. I find myself engrossed in his talk of history, finance, and people's behaviour. Of how everything’s connected. Of how he’s going to prove that to us. He’s a great teacher; I’ve got to give it to him. Gentle and patient, genuinely willing to inspire us.
