Page 31 of Crown of Thorns
“Your donations to charity have been received. Nearly twenty million euros. Thank you for your generosity.”
A hollow drumbeat filled the room, dull and penetrating like a death knell. Incense curled through the air, mingling with the heavy scent of sex and power.
A line of red-cloaked brothers entered, forming an outer circle, a silent vow.
Two men entertained the crowd, their lips brushing softly and slowly before passion flared. Others caged them, hands tangled in hair, mouths at throats, pushing them together.
One lifted the boy’s cloak, withdrew a plug, and slid his cock deep into the tight hole. The boy writhed and gasped; the old man watched, satisfied.
Nausea twisted in my gut. I was close to vomiting. Louis hadn’t warned me about this.
Panic rose like a dark tide. My eyes darted to every mask, searching, desperate for him, my anchor in this abyss.
“Brothers,” the old man began, but I didn’t wait.
“We rewrite our history!” His voice thundered as I fled toward the door.
“We rewrite our destiny!”
My palms slipped on the knob as I yanked it, stepping into the corridor.
“We rewrite our legacy!”
A glance back and caught the old man’s icy gaze, half-swallowed in shadow, unblinking, merciless.
The echo of their twisted rites clung to me like poison. Whispering shadows I could never outrun. My hands trembled, sweat already slick on my skin, heartbeat pounding like war drums in my chest. Somewhere, a black feather drifted down, landing softly at my feet, the crow’s silent witness to the nightmare I could not unsee.
Then I ran.
I had taught myself never to cower, to face monsters head-on.
But tonight, they attacked my soul where I was weakest.
Tonight would burn behind my eyelids for the rest of my life. But I’d pretend it never happened.
9
LOUIS
“Louis, can you help your father with the barbecue?” Natalie, my stepmother, peeks inside my room.
Damn barbecue.
I grunt. “It’s freezing out there.”
Natalie smiles sweetly. “And here I thought you liked parties.”
“Yes, but?—”
“Your father has talked about this the whole week. Here.” She flips me off by throwing my coat at me. “I couldn’t find your scarf.”
That's becausehehas it.
I’ve left Noah a graveyard of messages, each one more desperate than the last. Stubborn baby.
He freaked the fuck out after our gathering. Wouldn’t talk to me and drove off in that old barrel of his. That man is a danger on the road. The one who approved his driver’s license should be locked up.
I get it. It's a lot. All of us dressed up in cloaks and masks. Elder Jacques with his freaky cane. That man is sexually deviant, but if you stay on his good side, you have nothing to worry about.
