Page 78 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Then Matt bent forward with his hands braced against his knees. “I would like the official record to show,” he said between breaths, “that tonight has been complete bullshit.”

A few exhausted laughs broke through the chamber despite everything. Theron leaned heavily against one of the pillars nearby, breathing rougher now while fresh blood darkened portions of the torn fabric crossing his ribs.

***

Matt did not realize he was shaking until Vale gripped his shoulder hard enough to steady him. “Easy,” Vale said quietly. The word barely reached him.

Across the chamber, Theron still stood alone while the rest of the wolves maintained a cautious perimeter around the outer ring of carvings. Nobody moved closer to the collapsed entrance now. The shrieking beyond it had stopped several minutes earlier, but the silence left behind felt heavier somehow, as though the mountain itself had inhaled and never exhaled again.

Matt’s attention never left Theron. Something was wrong.

Not physically. Theron remained standing, steady and controlled as ever, but Matt knew him too well now to miss the subtle differences. Theron’s posture had become too rigid, his expression too distant. It reminded Matt of soldiers he had seen after firefights overseas, the ones who walked away alive but left some essential part of themselves behind in the smoke.

“What happened?” Matt asked softly.

Theron did not answer right away.

Finally, Theron turned toward him. “He recognized me through her.”

Matt forced out a weak laugh. “Yeah, I gathered that part.”

Theron’s expression never changed. “No,” he said. “You don’t understand.”

Something in his voice hollowed the humor right out of Matt’s chest.

The others must have sensed it too because Vale began moving the wolves toward the passage across the chamber, deliberately giving them space.

Soon, only Matt and Theron remained near the outer pillars.

The remaining floodlights cast pale light across the ancient stone, leaving shadows stretching long behind them. Far below, water dripped steadily somewhere inside the mountain.

Matt stepped closer. “Talk to me.”

Theron stared past him for a moment before finally speaking. “In our history, the First King was never simply a ruler. He was the beginning of everything we became after the old wars.” His jaw tightened. “The legends say he could see what wolves truly were beneath the masks we wear for each other.”

Matt folded his arms. “Okay, that sounds ominous as hell.”

“The First King looked through her at me like he knew me.” Theron looked exhausted suddenly. Not physically. Deeper than that. “He recognized what the mountain has been doing to me,” he admitted. “And I think he was pleased.”

Matt felt cold despite the stale warmth trapped inside the chamber. “You think you’re changing.”

“I know I am.”

The honesty in it hurt more than Matt expected.

Theron rarely spoke about himself in direct terms. Most of the time he carried his burdens in silence so complete it became easy to forget how much weight he lived under every single day.

Matt moved closer until only a foot separated them. “You’re still you.”

Theron finally looked at him then, and the exhaustion in his eyes nearly wrecked him on the spot. “You should not say that with such certainty.”

Matt mouth flattened. “Why?”

“Because you have not seen what I have done to survive this long.”

The words landed carefully, but Matt heard the truth beneath them. Shame. Not fear. That was what finally broke something open inside him.

Matt stepped forward and caught a fistful of the heavy fabric at Theron’s chest before he could think better of it. “I do not care.”