Page 87 of The Mourning Throne

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But still, that green, rotting pressure pushed at his chest.

Not because Lex would choose Ollie.

That was laughable.

Pathetic.

But because Lex hadn’t come back.

Because if Lex couldwait, if he could linger somewhere else, then maybe he didn’tneedMorgan as much as Morgan needed him.

Maybe.

Morgan inhaled.

Held it.

Exhaled. Again.

It wasn’t working.

Morgan had never been good at hiding when hewantedsomething. And right now?

He wanted Lex in this bed.

Where he belonged.

Where he wassupposedto be.

But Morgan could wait.

He could hold the line.

Because Lex always came back.

Eventually.

Hewouldcome back.

He would.

… he would.

And when he did?

Morgan would remind him.

You are mine.

You chose me.

Don’t forget what that means.

He must’ve dozed. Just briefly. No more than a few minutes.

Because when Morgan’s eyes opened again, the clock read1:42a.m, and thecageclosed again. Latch clicked shut.

Lex padded inlike nothing was wrong.

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