Page 91 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Matt cleared his throat. “Uh… surprisingly therapeutic.”

“I’m sure.”

Theron said nothing.

Baptiste’s expression remained perfectly neutral, though his eyes held just enough amusement to suggest he’d drawn his own conclusions.

After a beat, Vale's gaze shifted from Baptiste to Theron.

“You need to see this.”

Theron did not ask what she meant. That worried Matt more.

They followed Vale toward the far side of camp, where a stone wall had stood blank the night before. Matt remembered it clearly because he had sat across from it for nearly an hour while trying and failing not to replay Theron’s voice saying, I’m here.

Now the wall was no longer blank.

A narrow seam had split through the center of the stone from floor to archway. Pale blue light bled from the crack, faint but steady, pulsing in a rhythm that felt unpleasantly familiar.

Matt stopped beside Theron. “Was that there before?”

“No,” Baptiste said.

Matt glanced at him. “I was really hoping the answer would be yes.”

“One of the sentries saw it open about ten minutes ago,” Vale said. “No sound. No movement. Just light.”

Theron stepped closer to the seam. Matt caught his wrist before he could get too close, acting on instinct before his brain had any chance to intervene. Every wolf nearby went still.

Matt regretted every decision that had led to him having hands.

Theron lowered his gaze to Matt’s hand around his wrist, then looked back to him. There was no anger in his expression. If anything, there was something quieter there. Something that made Matt’s stomach turn over once before discipline grabbed him by the back of the neck and reminded him they had an audience.

Matt released him. “Maybe let’s not touch the glowing murder door yet,” he said.

One corner of Theron’s mouth shifted. Barely.

Unfortunately, Baptiste caught it.

Judging by the look on Baptiste’s face, he caught far more than that. The knowing glance he gave Matt afterward was deeply unhelpful.

Vale, thankfully, stayed focused on the problem. “The carvings around it appeared after the seam opened.”

Matt stepped closer then and saw what Vale meant. The stone around the crack was covered in symbols that had not been there before, freshly illuminated beneath layers of dust. Some looked like claw marks arranged into a language. Others curved in patterns that made his eyes ache if he stared too long.

Theron moved closer again, more carefully this time. Matt did not stop him, although every muscle in his body wanted to.

The moment Theron lifted his hand toward the wall, the light brightened.

Several agents raised their weapons.

Theron paused with his palm hovering inches from the stone.

“Stand down,” Baptiste ordered.

Nobody lowered their weapons, and Matt could not even blame them.

The light pulsed again, stronger this time, and a low vibration passed through the floor. Dust fell from the ruined arch overhead in a soft curtain. Somewhere deep beneath them, stone shifted with the slow groan of something enormous turning its attention toward them.