Page 155 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Matt glanced sideways toward him. “That’s kind of how Pack works.”

Theron grew quiet for a moment before speaking again. “They know almost nothing about me.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “And they accepted you without hesitation.”

Theron fell silent, as though acceptance remained harder to understand than rejection.

Matt’s expression softened. “Theron, nothing about you is something they’re going to hold against you. You survived something impossible for longer than anyone should’ve had to. If anything, Mac and Melvin are probably already trying to figure out how fast they can feed you and officially adopt you into the Pack.”

The older wolf grew quiet again after that, though Matt felt some of the lingering tension beneath the bond finally begin to ease.

It did not disappear entirely, but it loosened enough for him to finally breathe again.

Matt pushed himself away from the wall with a tired groan. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s survive one more night in this place before Vale decides sleep is a privilege we haven’t earned yet.”

Theron’s mouth twitched faintly. “Your people are deeply strange.”

Matt laughed softly as they started back down the hallway together. “Yeah,” he said. “But they’re good people.”

As they walked down the hallway together, Matt felt something inside Theron finally ease, as though the future no longer looked like something he had to face alone.

Epilogue

Colorado smelled different than the mountain.

Cold pine and melting snow rode the wind rolling down from the peaks, replacing the constant scent of stone and dust Theron had known for centuries. Late afternoon sunlight spilled gold across the valley while patches of snow still clung stubbornly to the distant mountains. Open sky stretched endlessly overhead, unbroken by stone. No whispers crawled through the walls behind his thoughts. For the first time in centuries, silence existed without carrying fear beneath it, and the realization unsettled him almost as much as the mountain once had.

Matt watched him carefully while hauling the last duffel from the back of the SUV. “You okay?”

Theron took another slow look across the valley before answering. “I do not think I have seen this much sky in centuries.”

He was quiet for another moment before adding, “And your people now place themselves inside metal vessels and throw them through the heavens.”

Matt blinked once. “Okay, when you say it like that, flying sounds significantly more aggressive than intended.”

The bond carried Theron’s emotions clearly enough beneath the restraint he still held over most of them: awe, uncertainty, caution, and somewhere underneath all of it, quiet disbelief that this was real at all.

Matt stepped closer beside him. “You get used to it.”

Theron glanced sideways toward him, the faintest hint of wonder still lingering beneath the restraint he carried so naturally. “I do not think I could ever become accustomed to this,” he admitted quietly.

Matt smiled faintly. “Yeah. Fair.”

The sound of the front door opening pulled both their attention upward. Melvin stepped out first.

The panther shifter crossed the porch quickly before Matt had fully reached the steps, and the next thing Matt knew he was being pulled into a crushing hug hard enough to remind him several bruises still existed beneath his ribs.

“Easy,” Matt groaned. “I’m critically damaged.”

“You scared the absolute hell out of us,” Melvin shot back roughly against his shoulder.

The emotion beneath the words landed harder than the grip itself. Matt hugged him back tightly anyway.

A second later Mac stepped onto the porch carrying a plate Melvin had apparently shoved into his hands on the way out of the kitchen.

“You look terrible,” Mac informed him calmly.

Matt pointed. “See? This is the emotional support I survive for.”