Todos os capítulos de LOOM OF THORNS : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

BECCA'S POV The first groan didn't sound like a student. It sounded like a man dying.I froze, the rhythm of my Butterfly sewing machine snapping like a broken thread. Before I could lock the door, he was there. Josh. The boy who owned every girl’s dreams on campus, stumbling into my lab, covered in blood and looking like a beautiful, fallen angel.He didn't ask for help. He took it.When the men with the heavy boots pounded on the door, Josh didn't just cover my mouth. He pinned me against the cold wood of the storage closet, his body a wall of hard muscle and desperate heat.Then, he kissed me.It wasn't a request; it was a robbery. It tasted of iron and expensive mint. My religious upbringing screamed for me to push him away, but my body—hungry and ignored for twenty years—melted. For a heartbeat, I wasn't the 'Good Girl' nor was I the church girl. I was a woman drowning in the scent of a man who was clearly bad for my soul."Be quiet," he whispered against my lips, his thumb graz

BECCA'S POV The walk to my apartment felt like walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Every rustle of the trees in the Abeokuta night felt like a hand reaching for my throat. Beside me, Josh was a silent, heavy presence, his breathing still hitched, his blood soaking into the makeshift bandage I’d tied. I felt like I was carrying a live grenade into my sanctuary.Inside, my space was a refuge of lavender and citrus. My Bible sat on the small table, the gold-leafed edges catching the dim light—a silent witness to the chaos I had just brought across my threshold."What's your name?" Josh asked me."Becca," I answered him. My heart thudding, images of us together in the closet whirling in my head.I pushed Josh toward the bathroom. "Wash the blood off," I commanded, my voice shaking more than I liked. I handed him a fresh towel and an oversized T-shirt—a sample I’d made for a project using heavy, high-quality jersey.He took the shirt, his eyes roaming over my small frame wi

BECCA’S POVThe evening sun was casting long, orange shadows across the NUAT campus when I finally left the library. My head throbbed from the stress of the day, my reputation currently being shredded by every gossip-monger in the Faculty of Food Science and Human Ecology.I was walking toward the park where the shuttle buses picked up students when I felt a sudden presence. Before I could turn, a pair of strong arms reached out, attempting to pull me into a familiar, possessive embrace from behind. The scent of expensive oud cologne hit me—the same scent that had lingered on my bedsheets that morning."Becca, wait," Josh’s voice whispered near my ear, smooth and confident as ever. "About today in the hall—"Slap!The sound echoed in the quiet evening air. I had turned with the speed of a desert cobra, my palm connecting squarely with Josh’s cheek.Josh stood frozen, his hand slowly rising to touch the reddening skin. The "King of NUAT" looked genuinely stunned. Nobody slapped Josh."

BECCA’S POVThe Elite Block was never silent, but Josh’s room felt like a tomb. He had cleared out his riffraff, leaving me sitting on the edge of his bed—the bed of the most powerful boy at NUAT.I wasn't impressed. I was devastated.The tears wouldn't stop. They weren't the quiet, dainty tears of a romance novel heroine; they were the ugly, racking sobs of a girl whose peace had been traded for a political game she never asked to play. I was terrified. For the first time in my life, I felt like a target."Becca... please," Josh whispered. He looked smaller, almost helpless in the dim light of his desk lamp, the arrogance stripped away. He sat beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. "I’ll handle them. I’ll make sure they don't go near your apartment again.""Handle them?" I laughed through a sob, my voice thick. "They were in my room, Josh. They touched my Bible. They pinned a piece of my work to my bed. They scattered my clothes, my private things... they searched everywher

BECCA’S POVThe orange sun was setting over the horizon of the NUAT campus, casting long, dark shadows across the walkway. I walked with my head down, feeling ashamed, the heavy "KING’S COURT" hoodie feeling like lead on my shoulders. I had spent the day avoiding updates on the campus WhatsApp channels and dodging whispers in the textile lab, but the true trial was waiting for me near the Faculty of Food Science and Human Ecology."Rebecca."The voice wasn't loud, but it stopped me in my tracks. Standing under the shade of a whistling Neem tree was Sister Mary. She was dressed in her usual floor-length denim skirt, her Bible-bag held against her chest like a shield—or a weapon."Sister Mary," I breathed, a wave of relief washing over me. "Thank God. I... I’ve had the most horrible day. I don't know what to do, I—""Don't use His name to cover your shame," Mary interrupted. Her voice wasn't kind. It was cold, sharp, and