Page 85 of The Mourning Throne
What he craved now was an audience all his own.
Ollie’s hands traced the bars like he was trying to count them blind.
“I’m—I’m trying. I’m sorry, for earlier. I’m just—just confused, I think.”
Lex nodded. “I know. Why don’t you get some rest, okay? You’ll feel so much better in the morning.”
Ollie simply… shut down. His breathing went soft. His gaze drifted to the edge of the towel like it was the most important thing in the room.
Morgan had seen that look before.
On victims.
In the mirror.
Dissociation had a smell and sound all its own.
Lex had conjured all of it with a few well placed words and a plate of food.
He wiped down the bars one last time and tucked the towel into the cage handle. Smoothed it flat. Gathered the napkin and silverware like he was packing up after a dinner party.
There were few moments in Morgan’s life that left him speechless. This one didn’t demand silence—it commanded it.
Lex stood. Not shaky. Not wired. Just flushed and still, like something inside him had finally clicked into place.
Those blue eyes met Morgan’s.
“Tell me you don’t trust me now,” he whispered.
Chapter 15
12:48a.m.
Lex didn’t come to bed. Not when he was supposed to. Their usual time had passed. Fifteen minutes ago. Eighteen, now.
Morgan had heard the cage door open and close. The metallic snap of the lock catching. And then—nothing.
No footsteps. No Lex climbing into bed, attaching himself like a second skin. No arm thrown across Morgan’s chest. No whispered nonsense in his ear.
Just—nothing.
Maybe Lex needed a minute. Time to come down. Calibrate.Process.
That was reasonable. Expected.
So why hadn’t he come back?
Morgan should’ve sat up. Said something.
He didn’t.
He lay there, spine straight against the mattress, unmoving. Eyes fixed to the ceiling like it might offer data. Answers. Something concrete.
It wasn’t the cage.
It wasn’t Ollie.
It wasn’t Lex’s experimentation with power.
