15. Chapter 15 - Matt #3
Baptiste lowered his eyes briefly. Even Vale’s expression had hardened into something quieter now, less tactical and more human.
Matt stepped toward Theron. “You stayed here because you thought his blood made this your responsibility.”
Theron gave a bitter, exhausted laugh under his breath. “You say that like it was a choice.”
Matt stopped directly beside him. “Maybe not at first. But you chose to keep carrying it alone.”
Theron finally looked at him then, and Matt saw the anger there now. Not directed at him. At himself.
“At what point exactly?” Theron asked. “Before or after my family unleashed centuries of death across half the continent?”
“You didn’t do that.”
“My blood did.”
“That is not the same thing.”
The response came, sharp enough to echo through the chamber. For the first time since Matt had met him, Theron looked genuinely shaken by something other than the mountain itself.
Everything the voice had been saying inside Matt’s head finally made horrifying sense. The King did not see Theron merely as blood capable of opening the seal. He saw the last surviving branch of the line that had defied him.
The mountain pulsed violently beneath them again, and this time the chains surrounding the throne pulled tight enough to scream against the stone. The sound echoed through the chamber like metal under impossible strain.
Then the voice returned, closer now and unmistakably angry.
Bring him to me.
The red pulse beneath the throne stumbled again the instant Matt's hand found Theron's arm, and this time the King's rage crashed through the chamber with enough force to shake the remaining chains.
Theron stiffened beside him.
Matt looked toward the throne. “He can hear us now.”
Theron never looked away from it.
“Yes,” he said. “Until now, we’ve only been fighting his corruption.” He drew a slow breath. “Now we’re fighting him.”
Another pulse climbed through the abyss and shook the floor. Far below them, something enormous shifted in the darkness beneath the throne platform.
Whatever had changed beneath the throne, its pressure now centered entirely on Theron.
***
The chamber shook again. This time the movement did not come from below. One of the chains snapped.
The sound exploded through the throne room like artillery fire as black iron whipped violently across the abyss before disappearing into the darkness beneath the platform.
The remaining chains pulled tight in response, groaning beneath the strain while cracks spread farther across the suspended bridges.
Vale raised her rifle toward the throne. “Tell me we are not out of time.”
Theron’s gaze remained fixed on the abyss below. “We are out of time.”
Another impact rolled upward through the chamber.
Then something began climbing toward them.
Matt saw movement first beneath the nearest bridge. Black mineral shifted aside as enormous claws punched into the stone wall surrounding the abyss. A second later a creature hauled itself upward into the red glow.
At first Matt thought it was another corrupted wolf. Then it kept rising. And rising.
“Oh,” Matt said. “That’s new.”
The thing dragged itself fully onto the bridge below them with horrifying slowness.
It resembled a wolf only in the broadest sense now.
Black mineral had fused directly into its flesh and bone until the creature looked grown from the mountain itself.
Sections of its body remained partially skeletal beneath translucent skin threaded with pulsing veins of silver-blue light.
Its head lifted toward Theron rather than the armed group surrounding him.
The creature opened its mouth. “My king,” it whispered, though its gaze seemed fixed on something moving behind Theron’s eyes.
Matt felt Theron go rigid beside him.
More impacts echoed below.
Additional shapes began climbing upward from the abyss walls beneath the surrounding bridges. Larger than the creatures from before.
Their corruption looked older, fused too deeply into them to separate flesh from stone.
The throne chamber was gathering around its king.
Vale backed toward the nearest support pillar while motioning the agents into defensive positions. “We need the seal opened now.”
Theron did not move. His attention remained fixed on the creature below.
And Matt suddenly understood why. The thing was wearing armor.
Ancient black metal fused directly into ruined flesh, but still recognizable beneath the corruption. A crown symbol remained carved into one shoulder plate.
Royal guard. These had once been Theron’s people. The creature took another slow step across the bridge. “He calls for you.”
Theron’s face emptied of expression completely.
Matt moved closer beside him automatically. “Theron.”
“He remembers them,” Theron replied.
Matt frowned. “What?”
“The King.” Theron’s eyes never left the bridge below. “He kept the ones closest to him.”
The creature smiled then. Or tried to. The movement split portions of its face open along old fractures in the flesh. “He waited for you,” it whispered.
The bond surged sharply enough to make Matt’s chest hurt. Not from the creature. From Theron.
Grief crashed through the bond with enough force to stagger Matt.
Beneath all Theron’s control lived centuries of guilt packed down hard enough to become part of him.
And below them stood the physical remains of everyone he had failed to save. Another chain snapped. The throne platform lurched several feet lower toward the abyss. The entire chamber began shaking harder now.
Baptiste looked toward Theron sharply. “If we wait any longer, the seal collapses completely.”
Matt looked from the throne to Theron.
Nothing about Theron’s plan had changed.
He still intended to die here.
The realization hit with enough force that Matt barely noticed the hyena rising hard beneath his skin again, driven not by rage this time but by absolute refusal.
“No,” Matt said.
Theron finally looked toward him.
Matt stepped directly in front of him before the older wolf could say a word. “You are not doing this alone.”
“Matt—”
“No.” His voice sharpened hard enough that even Vale glanced toward them. “You don’t get to decide your life stopped mattering centuries ago and call that nobility.”
The creature below them hissed violently. “My king,” it repeated.
Matt ignored it completely. “You are not responsible for what he became,” Matt said, holding Theron’s gaze. “And you do not get to throw yourself into this mountain because you inherited his blood.”