Page 30 of The Mourning Throne
“The games we played last year,” he continued. “Truth or dare… things like that.”
“Lex.”The warning in Morgan’s voice was unmistakable.
“Let’s play Simon Says with Ollie.” Lex turned the phone, zooming in a little more on Ollie’s face. “You know how to play that, right? You probably played it as a kid.”
Ollie didn’t respond. He just stared at the floor tile like it might tell him something.
Lex flicked his gaze up—over the edge of the phone—to Morgan.
Testing the waters.
He expected pushback, more chiding.
But Morgan didn’t snap. Didn’t dismiss it.
Instead, Morgan’s eyebrows raised, eyes flicking to the ceiling.
Good. He was thinking about it. Actually considering the idea.
The little smile that started at the corner of Morgan’s mouth was all the confirmation he needed.
Leaving the bathroom, Morgan touched Lex’s shoulder as he passed.
Gentle. Light.
Absolutelyfucking horrifyingfor a split second.
Ollie looked up at Lex, blinking fast. The camera lens pulled into focus—every red line, every trail down his face, tears dripping off his chin.
“I don’t want to die,” he mumbled, voice cracking, quiet like Morgan was the only damn threat in the room. “Please. I—I’m so grateful you sav—”
Lex sighed. “No one saved you. You’re just alive.”
“Y—youhaveto help me, my—”
Whatever he was about to say died mid-syllable. Because Morgan came back in. No footsteps. Just presence.
He pulled the knife from the travel case again with that same disinterested precision, like he was picking out a pen. Then he tossed it. Casual as hell.
The knife didn’t skid far.
The hilt clipped Lex’s sneaker with a dullthunkand spun in a lazy circle on the tile—glinting under the light as it rotated, slow and theatrical.
“Simon says, get out.”
Ollie’s eyes jumped—knife, Morgan, Lex, knife again. Trapped in the loop.
Morgan took a sip of the drink, ice cubes swirling in the glass. “You want to leave, don’t you? Get out. There’s your way.”
Ollie stared at the knife.
“I—” He licked his lips. “I can’t move.”
Morgan didn’t answer.
Lex adjusted the angle of the phone slightly, framing it better. Centering Ollie. The shredded sheet wrapped around his ankles. The expression on his face like he was choking on the weight of the moment.
The tension in his spine looked like it hurt—taut and shaking, bones trying to hold something up that wanted to fall.
