Page 135 of The Hyena’s Guardian

And every few minutes, Matt glanced toward him like he was checking to make sure Theron was still there. The bond carried the reason clearly enough. Matt still did not fully believe he had survived. Theron understood that feeling better than he wanted to.

Matt glanced toward him again, but this time he did not look away quite as quickly. “How did you get out?”

The road curved through the dark mountains beyond the windows while the quiet hum of the vehicle filled the space between them. For several seconds, Theron watched the broken peaks disappearing behind them before answering.

“When the seal ruptured, the King tried to pull me into it with him.”

Matt’s entire body tightened beside him.

Theron continued before he could interrupt. “His blood was inside me. His corruption had been rooted there for centuries. Once the heart seal opened, it recognized me as part of him.”

“But you got out.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Theron turned toward him.

The bond stirred between them, warm and steady beneath the exhaustion.

“You,” Theron said.

Matt looked at him, then forced his attention back to the road.

“The King’s blood gave the seal something to claim,” Theron continued. “But the bond gave me something stronger to follow.”

Understanding moved across Matt’s face.

Theron looked down at their hands resting close together between them. “When the chamber collapsed, I could no longer feel the passageways or the surface. I could not hear Vale or the others.” His voice roughened. “I could only feel you.”

Matt swallowed.

“So I followed the bond,” Theron said. “I followed you back.”

For a moment Matt said nothing.

Then his hand moved across the seat and closed around Theron’s. Theron let him hold on.

Matt looked toward the road again, but his grip remained tight. “Good.”

The single word carried more emotion than Theron expected.

He turned his hand beneath Matt’s and threaded their fingers together.

“Yes,” Theron said. “It was.”

By the time they reached the temporary Valker safehouse shortly before dawn, exhaustion dragged heavily through every inch of Theron’s body. He barely remembered walking inside until bright overhead lights reflected sharply across polished floors and pale walls.

He slowed automatically, though the lights themselves did not surprise him. The mountain had possessed illumination in deeper sections long before modern civilizations existed above it.

Ancient seal rooms had glowed with silver-blue fire threaded directly through the stone.

But those lights had always carried purpose rooted in magic, power, or ritual.

These felt casual and almost thoughtless by comparison.

Theron looked across the ceiling fixtures glowing overhead. “You trapped lightning inside glass and decided to use it for hallways.”