Page 100 of The Hyena’s Guardian

“You hearing actual words yet?” Matt asked Baptiste.

Baptiste answered from farther up the stairs. “You don’t want to.”

“That reassuring attitude of yours is really growing on me.”

“It shouldn’t.”

Matt sighed. “You wolves are exhausting.”

A faint sound escaped Vale somewhere behind them that might have been the beginning of a laugh before professionalism strangled it.

The stairwell widened abruptly several levels lower before opening into another massive chamber.

Matt halted at the threshold.

The room looked less like a tomb and more like the remains of an underground cathedral. Colossal pillars disappeared upward into darkness while hundreds of alcoves lined the circular walls surrounding them. Ancient stone sarcophagi rested inside each recess, stacked level after level high enough that Matt could barely make out the upper rows.

Some remained sealed beneath layers of dust and age, while others gaped open like broken teeth scattered through the walls. Empty.

The nearest shattered coffin drew his attention. Deep claw marks scored the interior stone from the inside out. “Well,” he muttered, “that’s horrifying.”

Nobody disagreed.

Vale motioned the teams outward. “Perimeter positions. Watch the upper alcoves.”

Flashlights swept across the chamber as armed wolves spread through the ruins. Matt noticed the shadows moving before he saw any bodies.

Something shifted between the higher crypts and vanished. “You saw that too, right?” he asked.

Theron’s gaze tracked upward. “Yes.”

That was all the confirmation Matt needed to hate this place completely.

Baptiste approached one of the sealed sarcophagi near the center aisle. Ancient symbols had been carved across the lid in circular patterns surrounding a single crest Matt now recognized.

Baptiste pointed toward the symbol. “The same crest from the throne chamber.”

“The royal bloodline,” Theron confirmed.

Despite every warning instinct, Matt approached the coffin. The stone looked ancient enough to predate most recorded history, yet the carvings remained unnaturally sharp, as though time itself had struggled to wear them down.

Then Matt noticed the scratches. Fresh ones. His stomach tightened. Something inside had tried very hard to get out.

Vale approached beside him. “How long ago?”

Theron crouched near the broken seal running along the edge of the lid. His fingers brushed lightly across the fractured stone. “Recently,” he said.

“How recently?”

Theron looked up. “Hours.”

The chamber fell silent. Hundreds of crypts surrounded them, far too many standing open.

A low sound echoed somewhere overhead. Movement again. This time everyone heard it. Weapons rose instantly toward the upper alcoves.

Nothing appeared. The silence afterward felt worse.

Matt drifted nearer to Theron without realizing it. Their shoulders nearly brushed now as they scanned opposite sides of the chamber.