Page 50 of The Hyena’s Guardian

The corridor curved sharply downward before opening into a much larger tunnel reinforced with ancient stone arches. Unlike the chambers above, this section of the catacombs showed signs of deliberate habitation. Rusted iron brackets lined portions of the walls while old torch mounts remained embedded between faded carvings.

Matt slowed as the flashlight swept farther ahead. “There were people living down here.”

Theron nodded once. “Guardians.”

“The ones who built the prison?”

“The ones who kept it closed.”

Matt studied him. “You knew them.”

The words lingered between them.

“I led them.”

Matt stopped walking.

Theron continued another few steps before noticing Matt had stopped, then turned back.

“You were their leader?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re the only one left.”

Theron’s gaze drifted into the darkness ahead. “The only one the corruption did not claim.”

“And now you’re trapped down here partially transformed while the ancient evil apocalypse monster wakes back up.”

“Yes.” Theron’s voice remained calm despite the weight of the words. “You did not wake him intentionally, but your people broke the outer seals holding the prison dormant.”

Matt stared at him for a long moment. “You know, when summarized out loud, your life sounds profoundly stressful.”

Theron glanced downward briefly, and some of the severity left his expression before exhaustion reclaimed it.

Beneath the claws and partially shifted body, Theron looked painfully human, stripped of anything immortal or monstrous by sheer exhaustion. The mountain answered with another low, impossible roar. Theron closed his eyes for the briefest moment before turning back to the passage ahead.

Matt stepped closer beside him. “Then explain the part where I apparently matter to all of this.”

Silence stretched between them again. Matt felt that strange warmth beneath his ribs pulse once more while Theron watched him with growing conflict visible behind the pale eyes.

Theron finally said, “You should not be seeing his memories.”

Matt went still. “I’m beginning to notice a pattern,” he muttered. “Every answer somehow makes this worse.”

Theron ignored the comment, his attention fixed somewhere deeper within the darkness surrounding them. “The bloodlines above forgot what began here. Most shifters believe the anchoring instinct between bonded pairs has always existed.”

Matt studied him. “You’re saying they aren’t?”

“No.”

The answer came immediately this time.

Theron’s jaw tightened. “The first anchors were created here.”

A cold unease settled through Matt’s chest. “Created by who?”

Theron’s voice lowered further. “By the First King.”