Page 142 of The Mourning Throne
“I’m already yours,” Morgan whispered.
Lex hummed. “Forever.”
He kissed Morgan’s ear, then his jaw, then the side of his mouth. He looked like he might say something else—but Morgan beat him to it.
“Next time,” he said, “no oneleaves alive.”
Lex’s gaze didn’t waver. He only nodded, fingers still writing, blue eyes fixed to Morgan’s like gravity.
Morgan let the silence stretch. Let the truth of itsink in.
For so long, his life had been noise. Performance. Theatrics. He’d mastered the art of the mask—sharp smiles, cold precision, blood disguised as elegance. Every moment calculated. Every person a role. A part. A pawn.
He never minded that. In truth, he enjoyed it. The control. The choreography. The thrill of the hunt. He’d loved the way blood could paint a story. How easily he could bend someone to his will, how natural it felt to end something just because he was asked to.
But Lex had never been part of that script.
Lex hadn’t entered on cue. He’d ripped the curtain down and laughed while doing it. He hadn’t followed the rules, hadn’t waited for his turn to speak. He’d stolen scenes Morgan didn’t even realize were being written.
And now—now that the wreckage was quiet, now that the act was over—Morgan felt… whole.
He didn’t want the performance anymore. Not in the way it used to matter. He didn’t need an audience. He didn’t need applause.
He just needed Lex.
Because Lex had never wanted a show.
He wanted chaos. Control.
A throne built for two.
And Morgan would give it to him.
Not because he had something to prove. Not because it was the next logical move in some grand, bloodstained play.
But because Lex deserved it.
Lex smiled when Morgan ruined people for him. Purred when he was gifted someone else’s pain, neatly packaged with a bow.And Morgan had learned that love didn’t have to be soft. It could be sharp. Cutting. Addictive.
Spoiling Lex—giving him everything, sparing him nothing—that was the only performance Morgan would never tire of.
So he let himself breathe.
Let Lex trace his name into his skin.
And this time, he wasn’t acting.
He wasn’t pretending to be dangerous.
He was.
For Lex.
Only ever for him.
