Page 139 of The Hyena’s Guardian

“No promises,” Matt answered.

“That,” Vale said while turning away, “is exactly the problem.”

Baptiste lingered near the doorway one second longer instead of following her.

His attention settled fully on Theron first, quieter now than it had been at any point since they escaped the mountain. “You are free now,” he said simply.

The words struck harder than Theron expected because some part of him still did not fully understand what freedom was supposed to feel like after centuries spent surviving without it.

Then Baptiste looked toward Matt.

Baptiste studied him silently for a moment. “The bond between you disrupted a force that controlled his bloodline for generations. I do not think either of you fully understands what happened in there.”

Matt shifted awkwardly beneath the attention. “Mostly screaming, property damage, and questionable decisions.”

A faint smile finally touched Baptiste’s face. “Yes,” he said dryly. “I noticed.”

Then his expression sobered as he looked between them. “Take care of each other.”

The quiet sincerity behind the words settled heavily through the room.

Theron felt the bond shift warmly beside him before Baptiste finally disappeared down the hallway after Vale, leaving the room silent once more.

Matt closed the door softly behind Baptiste and Vale.

The silence that settled afterward felt nothing like the silence inside the mountain. Nothing lurked beneath it. No whispers moved through the walls. The room felt warm, contained, and strangely safe in a way Theron had not yet learned to trust.

For the first time in centuries, silence no longer sounded lonely.

Chapter 19 - Theron

Theron remained standing near the center of the room while Matt moved toward the attached bathroom, exhaustion dragging visibly through every movement now that adrenaline had finally burned away. The bond carried all of it clearly between them: pain, relief, emotional overload, and beneath everything else, the steady grounding awareness that neither of them was alone anymore.

Matt turned the shower on a moment later.

Steam began curling outward through the partially open doorway.

Theron drifted toward the bathroom almost without realizing it.

The bathroom lights reflected softly across dark tile and gathering steam while hot water poured steadily from the wall-mounted fixture into the shower below. Theron studied it with open suspicion again, though this time the reaction felt less overwhelmed than curious.

Matt noticed the expression. “You are looking at that shower like it just issued a formal challenge to your bloodline.”

Theron continued watching the stream of hot water pour from the wall with deep suspicion. “I spent centuries believing naturally heated underground pools represented sophistication. Apparently modern civilization decided the superior approach was weaponized boiling rain.”

Matt snorted while stripping off what remained of his ruined shirt. “You fought a centuries-old nightmare king and somehow this is still the thing you can’t process.”

“The nightmare king at least behaved consistently.”

Matt laughed softly.

The sound settled warmly through the bond again.

Theron found himself staring at him longer than intended afterward.

Without armor, blood, or adrenaline between them, Matt suddenly looked painfully real in ways the mountain had never allowed before. Bruises darkened portions of his chest and throat beneath the harsh bathroom lighting while healing cuts crossed his shoulders and ribs from the collapse beneath the throne chamber.

Theron felt guilt twist sharply through the bond before he could suppress it.