Page 55 of Crown of Thorns
No escape. No hiding. The air here smells damp, metallic, like old blood soaked into stone. It clings to my skin, cold and weighty, like breath held too long in the dark.
At the end of the tunnel, a door sits. When I grab the knob tight, I realize I’m trembling.
What is this place doing to me?
A faint light awaits me behind the door. Immense windows that start at the ground and reach for the stars. It’s those stars that brighten this place, which is filled with plants. Some are as high as trees, others are branches with leaves and flowers. When I suck in a breath, a rich palette of sweetness fills my nostrils. I've passed this greenhouse before, from the forest, it looked unreal, almost painted into the trees. I never imagined it was connected to the castle. At some point, the tunnel must have climbed without me realizing. Somehow, it feels like I’ve emerged not from below, but into a hidden dream stitched between branches and sky.
There are colourful pillows on the floor. Once I notice them, breaking the perfect, green picture, I see them everywhere.
I carefully wander further inside the glass building. The immense dome invites in the light from the stars. There's a podium in the middle, the floor littered with rose petals. It leaves the stage and disappears in a trail through the trees. I follow it, passing the windows from up close, until the trail leaves me at something that looks like a rose garden. A sweet scent welcomes me to an alcove where blankets are spread out on the tiled floor.
Frowning, I bypass them, a chill skimming down my spine. It feels like I’m walking through someone else’s memory, or worse, their ritual. Sacred. Private. I don’t belong here, and every step reminds me of that. There’s a piano in the corner, music sheets prepared on the stand. Moonlight Sonata by Bach, I read. A masterpiece.
The melody pops up in my head, the slow, tragic melody taking me places I have not revisited for a long time.
This place must be the heart of the brotherhood. Deceitfully beautiful. Sweetly poisonous.
I move past the blankets, the pillows, the piano, deeper into the perfumed hush, trying to make sense of a space that feels too tender to be real. That’s when I sense it: the stillness folding tighter, the air tensing like it knows what comes next. A breath held too long. A pressure building in my ears.
The air tenses around me.
I turn. And everything comes to a screeching halt.
A figure stands just feet away, cloaked in black, still as a statue. My breath catches, shallow, ragged. A cold sweat breaks along my spine, and my fingertips go numb with adrenaline. The Venetian mask shimmers in the moonlight, their dark eyes already fixed on me, unreadable and still. My knees threaten to buckle. I don’t move. I don’t blink. My heart threatens to leap from my chest as I try to find a voice that won’t come. The silence between us feels ancient, like the air itself is holding its breath.
And here I am.
In trouble.
15
LOUIS
“Are you scared now?” I ask, voice low, just above a whisper, meant only for him.
Noah stares, frozen. Those silver eyes churn like storm clouds, thunderous with emotion. Shock. Anger. Something darker I can’t name.
“Louis?” His voice cracks. “How did you know where I was?”
That shouldn't turn me on the way it does, but yeah…it does. I grin. “Aahh…I know everything.”
He snorts but still has that haunted look in his eyes. Like something’s clawing at the edges of his mind, something he won’t speak aloud. Maybe a memory. Maybe guilt. Maybe me. I have eyes and ears everywhere, and his location is on my phone.Always. “I thought you were at a party?”
“Wrong. Iamthe party. And then I got bored and wanted to see what you were up to.” He huffs out a laugh as if he doesn’t believe me, but doesn’t comment. “Whatwereyou doing here, Professor?”
“Research,” he murmurs, his gaze darting around the Atrium.
That’s plausible. His curls have grown, a wild mess from the number of times his hand has brushed through them, and hiseyes have that absent glow I’ve come to recognize. He seems far away, thoughts buried somewhere in god knows where.
But I want to know. I’ve decided to kick things up a gear. And him being here, where he shouldn’t be, plays the cards in my favour.Again. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
His gaze snaps back to mine. “Why not? And why are you wearing those clothes?”
“So, you are scared.” Straightening my cloak, I give him a grin. “If I’d say I’ve come to surprise you, would you like that?”
“In those clothes,” he huffs. “Some kind of surprise. You know what my thoughts were on your littlegathering. Speaking of…” He takes a step back, as if distance could redraw the line he just crossed. “I should go.”
“Not so fast.” We move at the same time. He’s taller than I am and has more bulk, but I’m faster. I go for his throat just as his fingers dig into my skin. His move lands first, but mine is more deliberate, more dangerous, closing airways. Pressing tighter, he gasps, eyes darkening as they glare at me. “I thought we could have a bit of fun before we leave?” His cheeks redden, and he presses his lips into a firm line. “Unless you want me to report you to the brotherhood? Tell them I caught an unwanted visitor snooping around the working field of the Alpha Fraternarii?”
