The Villain’s Beast (Thorned Vows #1)

1. Fletcher

Chapter 1

Fletcher

F or as long as I could remember, I hated GideonNorth.Growing up, it had been a rule in my household—one of many, but a rule just the same.

Don’t speak unless spoken to.

Never question authority.

The Sinclairs above all else.

And fuck the North family.

I hadn’t even met him before, but high school brought us to the same boarding school and instead of my father sending me off with hugs and good wishes, he’d sent me off with a black eye and a staunch reminder.

Stay away from Gideon North.

So when the time came for us to actually cross paths, I swallowed down any feelings that might have belonged to me, making sure I kept myself in line.

Fuck Gideon North and his shining brown hair. Fuck the way it fell to just below his ears, not like it had grown out too long in preparation for boarding school, but like he was allowed to wear it that way all the time.

Fuck Gideon North and his dark green eyes that looked like forest moss, and fuck his lanky swimmer’s build, his long and delicate fingers that played piano better than I ever could. Fuck Gideon North and the way his cheeks flushed pink when he smiled at strangers.

But most of all, fuck Gideon North and his godforsaken last name.

Fuck Gideon North for sitting down beside me in the library the sixth week of school, smelling like flowers and grass, huffing out an annoyed breath when I ignored him.

“You’re Fletcher Sinclair, right?”

He licked his lips, and I wanted to fuck his stupid mouth too. But not in the way I was supposed to. In the way I wanted to.

“You know who I am,” I told him, trying not to look at his face. Even in profile he was too pretty, too much.

“My father said I’m not supposed to talk to you.” He bobbled his head a little bit from side to side. “Don’t talk to that Sinclair boy. The Sinclairs are bad news.”

It didn’t sound a thing like what my father had said to me.

“Then why are you?”

“I don’t listen well.”

He smiled, and I wanted to die.

Fuck Gideon North for making me want anything beyond what my father said I could have.

“No one will know,” he said.

“You’re an idiot.” I looked at him finally, a fine-tuned poker face the only thing not giving away my interest in him. “Everyone will know.”

“It’s just us.”

“Your father paid for the upgrades to this library,” I reminded him. “My father built the new residence hall. They’re everywhere.”

“Do you think they installed cameras in the walls?”

I swallowed, thinking of home. “I’m sure of it.”

“No one else here wants to be my friend,” Gideon said with a casual shrug. He pushed some hair behind his ear sending another rush of roses into the way too small space between us.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, they pretend they do, but they’re all just scared of me or they want something.”

“I’m not scared of you,” I said.

“Right. So, you must want something then. What do you want, Fletcher?”

Fuck Gideon North and the way he said my name.

I closed my eyes, turning my head toward the wall. Up until the North family had paid for library upgrades, it had been the second oldest part of the school. Barely outdating the administration building, which had started as the single classroom at Rose Hill Prep back in the 1700s or something. Now that building bore my surname in a plaque at the cornerstone, a hefty donation made by my grandfather years before I was born. There was a time when I knew the history of the school, when I remembered the name of the founding members, but they’d long been erased. If not with time, then with money.

The only names that mattered now were ours. North and Sinclair.

“I want you to go away.”

“Fletcher,” he said, almost pouting.

“That’s what I want,” I said again, even though it was the last thing I wanted.

And, fuck, I wanted .

“What’s the motto?” he asked, no doubt changing course when he realized friendly camaraderie wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

“ Sub rosa ,” I murmured.

I knew it as well as I knew all the rules of my life. Some Latin meant to remind all of us that we had the things that were ours because of blood that had been shed for generations. Blood and money and war, and all it got anyone was me and Gideon sitting side by side in the library of a private school, one of us knowing the rules of the world far better than the other ever would.

Gideon was too good for this life. I knew that from the first time I saw him in the halls. My father had raised me to understand this life was luxurious, but never without cost. For my entire life, the Norths were always one step ahead of us, one more zero in their bank accounts than ours. Gideon’s father had been better at playing the game than mine had been, but my father had made certain the change in our family’s ranking would be a blip and not a constant. From the day I left my mother’s womb, he’d been positioning me to take back everything he’d lost.

Whether I liked it or not.

“I’m good at keeping secrets, Sin,” he said softly.

I didn’t know which was worse—the way his shortening of my name made something new and inexplicable tangle into a knot of thorns in the middle of my stomach, or the fact I knew Gideon North couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

But I could.

“Leave me alone, Gideon,” I said, shoving my chair back so forcefully it fell onto the ground. He didn’t even flinch at the sudden movement, at the sound, and for what wouldn’t be the last time in our lives, I wondered if I’d underestimated him.

Fuck him for that too.