Page 120 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Vale adjusted the rifle against her chest. “Meaning we cross that bridge.”

No one appeared enthusiastic.

The corrupted wolf opposite them smiled as though it understood their plan. “He knows.”

The King’s voice curled through Theron’s mind.

I have always known.

Pain lanced behind his eyes. Theron staggered, and Matt caught his arm.

“Theron.”

The chamber vanished.

Black corridors appeared, lit by torchlight instead of red glow. Wolves lined the passage with lowered heads while Theron walked toward the throne room in ceremonial armor still wet with blood.

It was not his memory.

The King’s voice wrapped around the vision.

You were born for this.

Theron tore himself free. Pain burst through his skull as the throne chamber returned around him.

Matt’s grip remained tight around his arm. “Stay with me.”

The bond surged beneath the contact, forcing the King’s voice back enough for Theron to think. That frightened him almost as much as the voice itself because the King was right about one thing.

Theron was beginning to need Matt.

If the King realized the bond itself was shielding Theron from him, he would stop trying to reclaim Theron and destroy the one thing interfering with his control.

A tremor rolled through the chamber.

The throne moved again.

The black structure shifted inward as something enormous began unfolding from within it. At first Theron could not separate the figure from the throne. Mineral still clung to it like hardened veins connecting flesh to stone.

Then a hand emerged.

It was neither skeletal nor decayed. The skin appeared almost human beneath the red light, though black fractures branched beneath it like cracks through marble. Long fingers curled around one side of the throne while another chain screamed beneath the strain.

The second hand emerged and gripped the opposite edge. Then the figure leaned forward.

Theron felt the instant the King’s eyes opened.

The force tore through him.

A great hall filled with kneeling wolves beneath burning braziers. Blood ran down marble steps. Golden eyes turned toward him while the entire room bowed in submission.

Mine.

The word was not spoken. It was claimed.

Theron staggered, and Matt caught him again near the edge of the bridge.

The King smiled, not at the chamber but at him.