Page 153 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Matt pointed at the screen. “In my defense—”

“No,” Mac interrupted flatly. “Absolutely not.”

Melvin snorted beside him, and to Matt’s surprise, Theron made the faintest sound of amusement under his breath as well.

Mac noticed.

His attention shifted fully toward Theron then, calm and steady as he studied him through the screen. There was no fear in the look and no suspicion either. He simply watched Theron the way an Alpha evaluated someone standing near his Pack.

After a moment, some of the sharpness eased from his expression. “You brought him back alive,” Mac said simply.

Theron held his gaze for a long moment before answering quietly. “I attempted to.”

Matt groaned. “See? This is the kind of thing I’ve been dealing with.”

A startled laugh escaped Melvin before he could stop it, and just like that, some invisible tension finally loosened between all of them.

Mac shook his head once, though amusement tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth now too. “You know,” he said dryly, “most people bring home rescue dogs after traumatic missions.”

“I considered it,” Matt replied. “But Theron seemed less likely to chew through drywall.”

Theron's eyes narrowed. “What is drywall?”

Matt tilted his head. “Seriously?”

“You continue inventing words without explanation.”

Melvin laughed softly somewhere through the speakers while Mac rubbed one hand across his face like he already regretted where this conversation was going.

Matt pointed vaguely at the wall beside him. “Drywall is… wall.”

Theron studied the wall with visible suspicion. “Aren’t most walls dry?”

Matt stared at him for a full second before breaking into helpless laughter.

To Matt’s surprise, the faintest hint of amusement touched Theron’s expression too before he continued more thoughtfully, “And modern dogs truly chew through walls?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“That feels deeply inefficient.”

“You are going to have a fascinating relationship with modern civilization.”

Melvin smiled then, warm and genuine in a way that grounded something inside Matt’s chest. That expression had steadied him through more disasters than he could count.

“When are you coming home?” Melvin asked softly.

The question lingered quietly through the bond between Matt and Theron.

Home.

Matt looked sideways toward the older wolf beside him before answering. “Soon,” he said.

Mac nodded once like the decision had already been made long before the call even started. “Good,” he replied simply. “Then bring him with you.”

Theron went completely motionless beside him, and Matt felt the reaction through the bond: shock first, followed by disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.

Melvin leaned closer toward the screen. “Fair warning,” he said, “Mac’s Pack meetings are basically controlled chaos, and Matt talks too much.”