Page 129 of The Mourning Throne
“Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you?” he asked Lex, taking another step forward. “After everything we shared? I know you, Lex.You gotta see that.”
“N—no, you don’t,” Lex whispered. He took one step to the side. Closer to Morgan.
Noah’s smile dipped a fraction. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped, the brightness in his voice fraying at the edges. “You know what, never mind. You’re just scared, right? But it’s okay now! I’m here. We can go home together.”
He looked so proud of himself. Sosure.
Like he thought he was the only one in the room who had the answers.
But Morgan knew the truth.
Obsession didn’t love. It didn’t nurture.
Itpossessed.
Morgan had seen it first hand.
And Noah? Noah didn’t want Lex’s safety.
He wanted his heart in a jar on the shelf.
But Morgan already had it.
Morgan’s hand moved slowly to the dresser, wood creaking beneath his fingers as he slid the top drawer open. It was much too quiet now. Even the low hum of the air conditioner felt heavy. Loaded.
That small sound—drawer hinges too old—seemed to catch Noah’s attention.
“I’m here to get my people,” Noah said. “That’s it. But if I see a gun or some other shit, whatever happens after is onyou.”
Morgan didn’t flinch. Didn’t pause.
Noah thought he could control the room with a warning. But Morgan had already done the math. A little blood was survivable.
Losing Lex wasn’t.
He pulled the knife from the kit and held out his other hand to Lex, palm open, steady.
“Lex, we’re leaving,” he said softly. “Right now.”
Lex took one stepcloser.
“Fuck you.” Noah’s voice rose, the chipper bleeding away into something more animal than human. “I’m saving him.He’s not goinganywherewith you.”
While Morgan was alive? That was the only place Lex was going to be.
Withhim.
But he didn’t get a chance to move before Noah lunged.
Fists collided with Morgan’s ribs—sharp impacts that knocked the breath from his lungs in a single rush. Another strike clipped his jaw. His head snapped sideways, the world blurring for half a second.
Morgan slammed into the wall, barely registered the dust drifting from the impact, curling in the stale air. But he didn’t drop.
The knife swung out—sloppy, too fast.
He wasn’t thinking. Wasn’tfocusing.
He shouldn’t have let thisthinginLex’s skinget to him. Get inside the cracks of his restraint and pry him open for the world to see.
