Page 128 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Matt drove all four paws backward, hauling Theron upward with the strength of his neck and shoulders.

Stone exploded apart around his claws as the bridge tilted violently toward the abyss below. Theron’s grip slipped once, and panic detonated through the bond hard enough to nearly blind him.

Matt snarled and hauled backward with everything the shift gave him.

Theron came up over the edge, and they crashed hard across the remaining stone together.

Matt needed words, and the hyena had none.

Pain tore through Matt as he forced the full shift backward. The hyena fought to remain, furious and protective, but bone and muscle compressed beneath blood-matted fur until Matt landed on hands and knees beside Theron, still clawed and only partially human but capable of speech again.

Theron tried to rise.

Matt pressed him back down. “No.”

Theron stared up at him in startled silence while the throne chamber shook violently around them. Somewhere behind Matt, another section of bridge collapsed into the abyss with a deafening roar. Gunfire continued erupting across the outer platforms while corrupted wolves threw themselves toward the stabilizer teams with reckless desperation.

But Matt barely registered any of it.

His attention remained fixed entirely on Theron. “You do not get to make that decision for me.”

The bond pulsed violently between them, stripped raw enough now that Matt could feel every emotion Theron failed to bury beneath his control.

Beneath the fear lay grief. Theron was already preparing to leave him behind.

Theron pushed himself upright more this time. “If the charge is not placed—”

“We’ll place it.”

“The King is trying to force me into the heart seal.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “And I’m getting real tired of his opinions.”

Theron’s resistance faltered, exposing an affection so unguarded that panic climbed higher inside Matt’s chest.

The First King noticed.

Rage rolled through the chamber hard enough that the remaining chains screamed beneath the throne. Black mineral surged farther across the bridges while the ancient wolf advanced another step toward them, gold eyes fixed entirely on Theron.

“You weaken him,” the King said.

Matt rose to his feet between them. “No,” he answered. “I remind him he’s allowed to want something.”

The chamber went still beneath the mountain’s continuing groans and the crash of stone collapsing somewhere deeper below the throne chamber. But the emotional pressure saturating the space shifted hard enough that even Vale glanced toward them from the western bridge.

The King’s expression darkened. “You think desire makes him stronger?”

“I think you spent centuries convincing him he was only useful when he suffered.” The words landed harder than Matt expected. He saw it in Theron’s face. The older wolf had gone completely still behind him.

And somewhere beneath the rage flooding the chamber, Matt felt the King falter. Just for a second. Because Matt was right.

The First King had built everything on obedience, bloodline, sacrifice, and control. Matt rejected the entire system, and worse, Theron was beginning to reject it too.

The King’s rage exploded through the chamber. Every corrupted wolf still capable of moving launched itself toward the central bridge at once.

“Here they come!” Vale shouted.

Matt stepped forward, claws extending again as the hyena surged hard beneath his skin. But this time Theron moved with him. Not behind him. Beside him.