Page 135 of The Mourning Throne
“I would’ve killed him,” he murmured after another beat, voice raw. “If I had to.”
Morgan’s eyes opened.
He didn’t sayI know.
Because he hadn’t.
Not until the moment Lex, who’d always stood outside the blood and violence, had crossed the line—for him.
Lex leaned against Morgan’s chest, tucking in like he needed to feel his heartbeat. Like he needed proof that Morgan was still here. Still breathing.
Even barely.
“Please, just—just don’t ever make me watch that again, Morgan...”
Morgan didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t.
Something was… wrong. Wrong in a way he couldn’t quite catch. More than heaviness. This was different. Deeper.
His fingers didn’t move when he told them to—only after. They were on a delay, running on borrowed time.
Forty seconds.
It took forty seconds for them to obey.
That should’ve meant something.
Should’ve scared him.
But Lex was right here. Right here.
The only thing that mattered in this whole, destroyed room.
They stayed pressed together, Lex’s voice still trembling in his chest.
You’re all I have.
The words echoed. Louder than any scream.
“Me too,” Morgan whispered eventually. It felt too soft. Too small. But it was the best he could do.
“Come on. Let me take care of you.”
Morgan almost laughed. Not because it was funny—but because he didn’t know how. That word—care—had never belonged to him. Never felt like it applied.
This wasn’t a nightmare he was stuck in.
This wasreality.
And he could never ask Lex to do that.
But Lex was already helping him sit up straighter, slow and careful, murmuring soft words that didn’t need meaning. Morgan didn’t catch all of them. He didn’t need to.
They weren’t about instructions. They weren’t orders. They were tether lines. Spoken reminders that he was still wanted.
Even if all he’d done was fail.
Morgan didn’t fight it.
