Page 140 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Matt noticed. “Hey,” he said quietly.

Theron looked away first.

Matt stepped closer instead. “You did not do this to me.”

“He came after you because of me.”

“The King tried,” Matt corrected gently. “Big difference.”

The affection that moved through the bond afterward felt almost unbearable in its honesty.

Theron had spent centuries learning how to survive fear, violence, isolation, and duty. None of it prepared him for tenderness.

Matt stepped close enough now that Theron could feel the heat of his skin through the steam-filled air between them. The scent of rain, smoke, and mountain dust still clung faintly to both of them beneath the sharper smell of blood and stone.

“You’re staring again,” Matt said softly.

Theron realized he was. “I am attempting to understand something.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

Theron’s gaze lifted back toward him. “You nearly died.”

Matt’s expression softened. “So did you.”

“Yes.”

The simple acknowledgment settled heavily between them.

For a long moment neither of them moved.

The steam thickened gradually around them while water continued pouring steadily into the shower beside them, filling the room with soft sound and warmth. Theron became aware of every small detail with uncomfortable clarity: the pulse beating steadily beneath Matt’s throat, the lingering tension in his shoulders, the heat radiating between them through the bond.

The realization still struck Theron every time he looked at him.

Matt’s fingers brushed lightly against Theron’s wrist. The contact sent warmth through the bond.

Not the violent overwhelming surge they had experienced inside the mountain. This felt quieter. Deeper. Like the connection between them no longer needed to fight simply to exist.

Matt studied him carefully for another second before speaking again. “You keep looking at me like I might disappear.”

Theron did not answer because denying it would have been pointless.

Matt’s thumb brushed across the inside of his wrist again. “I’m here.”

Something inside Theron finally loosened beneath them, not his control, but the fear wrapped tightly around it for centuries. Fear of attachment. Fear of loss. Fear of surviving long enough to watch every person who mattered disappear while he remained behind to carry the weight alone.

And somehow, without Theron realizing when it happened, Matt had walked straight through every wall that fear had built.

His hand rose before settling against Matt’s chest. Warm skin and steady heartbeat met his palm through the steam between them, and the bond flared softly in response.

The simple reality of it struck Theron with unexpected force.

Matt was alive, real, and standing here beside him instead of existing only as another loss Theron would carry alone.

Matt covered Theron’s hand with his own, like he understood exactly what the contact meant.

Theron lowered his forehead against Matt’s, eyes closing briefly as exhaustion and emotion tangled together beneath the bond. For several seconds they simply stood there breathing the same steam-heavy air while the world outside the room faded into silence.