Page 17 of Crown of Thorns
But I want him for myself.
I want him flushed and begging. So I send him a quick text. It’s time for a reunion. I make sure to click my tongue in disapproval when his phone pings, loving how he apologizes. And then he stares at his screen, eyes turning wild. And…is that a blush? Fuck, that’s cute. He bites the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to flinch. Too late.
“Deveraux,” he finally looks up. “Please leave this classroom at once.”
“Me? Why?” Fluttering my lashes, I slowly make my way out of my chair. What, he didn’t honestly think I wouldn’t have his number by now?
“You know why.” His voice is calm even though he just opened a picture of my ass, still wet from this morning’s shower. Damn, my tattooed middle finger must have given me away.
There are many, many things I want to say right now. He’s a courageous, brilliant fool who happened to have caught my attention. This here? My playing field. These guys? My brothers. Right now, I can feel their eyes on me. They’re waiting for me to challenge Professor Montague. And I have every intention to do so. But not here, for the others to see. So I give Noah my most convincing pout. “Of course, Professor.”
Talking, my ass.
Arthur looks up in surprise as I stroll into our dorm. “Didn’t your class start, like, half an hour ago?”
He’s by the window, phone pressed to his ear, but still talking to me, typical twin behavior. Always halfway in someone else’s business. But even his casual tone can’t hide the tight crease in his brow.
Opening the fridge, I take out a bottle of water. “You’re right, bro. But you know what? I realized I forgot something in the library.”
“The library?” His eyebrows hit his hairline. “You?”
“Ouch, you’re hurting me. Though perhaps it was the canteen? Or no…now that I’ve come to think of it, it was the football field.”
“You fuckhead. It’s too early for football.”
“I love you, too, brother. What’s up?”
“Nothing.” He glances at his phone. “Just Dad. He’s sending over a new security team for training purposes. Perhaps?—”
He trails off when Régis rushes in. Arthur’s eyes track our little stepbrother’s every move, sharp and dark as night.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Régis pauses, eyes darting to us, then quickly shuts himself inside his room.
“That little…”
I drain the last of my drink, crush the plastic bottle in one hand, then toss it into the bin with a smirk. My eyes linger on Régis’s door.
“Anyway, catch you later.”
I’ve got somewhere important to be. While Noah Montague is giving class, I’m going to check out behind his protective walls, so to speak. I mean, okay, sending a pic of my naked, wet backside might not have been that appropriate. But to see the look on his handsome face? Shock. Rage. Fucking priceless. The entire reason why it was such a good idea. I don’t know what it is he’s fighting with, but it was there, in his murky eyes. Present and fuckingloud. I want to meet the wolves he keeps chained inside. Let them snarl at mine, tooth to tooth.
It’s not just the power. It’s the fact he makes me feel like I exist when he looks at me. Like I’m more than a punchline in someone else’s empire.
Crossing the corridor to the South Wing, I let myself into Professor Montague’s empty office. Owning a master key has its perks.
I wish I could say the place is cozy and personal, but that would be a lie. I’ve been here before, it hasn’t changed. It’s spacious and light. Noah’s desk sits facing the large window from where the forest is visible. A huge bookcase is scarcely filled. There’s outdated furniture that hurts my eyes, and walls painted in a dull white. Seriously, this place is going to need a makeover. The punching bag surprises me. My professor is fit as fuck, with lean muscle and a wide chest, but I wouldn’t have taken him for a fighter.
There’s nothing in this room that tells me more about Noah Montague, except for his taste for topics. No photos. No degrees he wishes to show off.
Time to search hisotherplace. It only takes one phone call to confirm which dorm has been prepared for him.
Teachers' dorms are in another wing of Monterrey Castle, where students are officially not allowed. Needless to say, that rule doesn’t apply to the likes ofmoi.
Noah’s suite sits at the end of the corridor, further away from the other teachers. So this is where LeChevalier has decided to put my handsome professor.
For someone hiding so hard, he’s been placed like a relic, high up, far away, untouchable. This room, too, is plain. Large, spacious, and boring. A simple bed. No kitchen facilities. No colour. No fuckingnothing. That won’t do.
