Page 35 of The Hyena’s Guardian

The corridor twisted sharply ahead before opening into a larger chamber supported by enormous stone columns disappearing into darkness overhead. Ancient carvings covered the walls in overlapping layers, many of them damaged beyond recognition by age and claw marks alike.

Matt barely had time to process any of it before Theron suddenly grabbed the front of his vest and yanked him sideways behind one of the collapsed pillars.

A second later, something rushed through the corridor they had just exited.

Matt caught only fragments of it in the darkness. Thin limbs moving too quickly. Pale skin stretched tightly across an emaciated frame. Eyes reflecting white for a split second before the creature vanished past the chamber entrance with disturbing, jerking speed.

Then another followed. And another. Matt stopped breathing entirely.

At least four of the things moved through the adjoining tunnel in frantic bursts of motion, crawling across walls and ceilings with violent, insect-like coordination that barely resembled human movement anymore.

None of them noticed Matt and Theron hidden behind the collapsed stone.

Theron remained perfectly still beside him while the creatures passed. Up close, Matt could hear the rough strain in his breathing again, tighter now, like holding himself under control required active effort.

The last creature paused suddenly near the chamber entrance and slowly lifted its head. Matt felt the hyena tense as the thing sniffed once before turning toward the darkness where they hid behind the collapsed pillar.

For one horrible second, Matt was certain they had been spotted.

Then Theron moved.

The growl that tore from Theron’s chest barely sounded human anymore. It rolled through the chamber low and violent enough that Matt felt the vibration in his ribs before the creatures reacted.

Every pale face snapped toward the sound at once.

Then the entire group recoiled.

The things retreated backward into the corridor with sharp clicking shrieks, their movements suddenly frantic in a way Matt had not seen before. Panic rippled through them as they vanished deeper into the tunnels, scrambling across the walls and ceiling until the echoes of their movement finally disappeared into the distance.

Silence settled heavily across the chamber afterward.

Matt stared after them for several seconds before turning toward Theron again. “Okay,” he said carefully, still trying to steady his breathing, “I feel like we skipped several extremely important explanations.”

Theron stayed near the edge of the pillar, listening toward the tunnel until the sounds fully disappeared.

“They hunt in packs,” he said finally.

Matt blinked once. “That was the explanation you chose?”

Theron ignored the comment and stepped farther into the chamber. The flashlight beam caught him more clearly now, illuminating the fresh wounds crossing his ribs beneath the fur. Matt realized some of them looked recent. Very recent.

“You fought them already,” he said.

Theron glanced toward him briefly before looking away again. “Many times.”

Something about the answer landed strangely in Matt’s chest because Theron sounded weary in a way that went far deeper than physical exhaustion.

Matt studied him carefully while they crossed the chamber together. Theron moved like a predator, every motion controlled and dangerous beneath the partially shifted frame, but traces of the man underneath still surfaced constantly in ways that felt impossible to ignore.

He watched every corner before entering it, positioned himself automatically between Matt and every open tunnel, and spoke more roughly whenever the growl beneath his voice intensified.

Theron was fighting something every second he remained standing there.

And somehow, Matt understood that instinctively.

Ahead of them, the chamber narrowed into another descending corridor carved directly into the mountain. Theron stopped abruptly near the entrance, and Matt nearly walked into him before realizing what had caught his attention.

The stone walls ahead were covered in claw marks. Not random damage. Writing.