Page 128 of The Mourning Throne
And without invitation, it shouldered into the suite. The scent of something artificially citrus clung to him as he passed, wafting like cheap aftershave. He didn’t look at Morgan again. Not really. His eyes were fixed on Lex—locked in with a hunger that had no place on a someone else’s face.
“Are you better?” he asked, like this was some casual reunion. “You looked like shit at the club. Not in a hot way. Justreallyfucking shitty, you know?”
Now it made sense.
This… thing. Thisghost wearing Lex’s skin—this was the fracture. The one that shattered Lex into unrecognizable pieces. The one Lex had no words for, just silence and panic.
Morgan hated it.Immediately. Hated how close the resemblance was. Every small detail. Studied. Memorized. Rehearsed until it passed.
Down to that smirk.
“You need to leave.Now,” Morgan said, firm enough to leave no room for question.
But the blond just kept on going. Unbothered.Uninvited.
“I tried texting a couple months back,” it said, grinning like Lex and him were in on some private joke. “You didn’t respond. I figured you went AWOL—but then I kept seeing stuff. Articles, press releases, pictures from events. I saw your name on the DVC site and Iknew—Iknewyou were still in town. You were just laying low.”
Of course he was busy.
He was withMorgan.
Not some wide-eyed mutt with a sickness so deep even Morgan didn’t want to touch it. And Morgan had touchedeverything.
“Noah,” Lex started, too shaky. “I—”
“You remember camp?” Noah interrupted, stepping closer to Lex. “You got sick. You were shivering so bad, and I stayed with you. Held your hand all night. You said it helped. That’s what I’m here to do now. Help.”
Morgan’s fingers twitched at his side, jaw locked. He could feel theitchbuilding behind his eyes, tight and dangerous. He glanced at the drawer where he’d stashed the kit with the knife.
He could put it through Noah’s throat. It wouldn’t take much. One nice, clean slice.
But that would mean escalation.
If he moved too fast, Lex might get caught in it.
Some piece of him was going to snap first. Either anger, or sanity.
And he couldn’t afford either. Not with someone like Noah. Not when they were all tangled up in the same thread.
You didn’t touch Sterling staff—especially a Collector—unless you were ready to be spoiled meat.
Lex’s voice was cracked glass. “That’s not how it happened. Atall. Iwasn’t sick, you had—”
“Iknowwhat happened,” Noah cut in. Sharp. “And then like, five months later, you disappeared. Your mom married that old-ass man, and you weregone. I kept thinking—what if I’d told someone how she was treating you? What if I’d followed you? What if I hadn’t let you go? Maybe you wouldn’t be so screwed right now.”
He said it like Lex had beenkidnapped.Like Morgan hadtakenhim.
No.
Lex had comehome.
Their past was twisted. Bruised and bleeding. But it wastheirs.No one else got to rewrite it.
“Get out,” Morgan said.
One last warning. This thing didn’t even deserve that grace.
Noah didn’t blink.
