17. Chapter 17 - Matt
Matt saw the King’s face change.
That was the first thing that cut through the noise, the blood, the collapsing bridges, and the ache of the partial shift still burning through his body.
Pure hatred twisted across the First King’s expression, and every bit of it aimed straight at Theron.
Matt moved before thought could catch up.
The bridge cracked beneath his claws as he launched himself toward the center span, placing his body between Theron and the throne before the King could take another step. The movement sent several corrupted wolves scrambling backward across the stone, but Matt barely registered them.
His world narrowed to a single realization. The King had looked at Theron like property waiting to be reclaimed, not as a person or even as blood, but as something owned and meant to lose itself completely.
Matt’s growl rolled out of him low and violent enough to make the closest wolves flinch. He could feel the hyena beneath every inch of his skin now, fully awake and furious, but he was not lost inside it. He knew exactly who he was, exactly what he was doing, and exactly who he was protecting.
Behind him, Theron’s voice came rough. “Matt.”
Matt did not look back. “I know.”
“You don’t.”
“Yeah,” Matt said, flexing claws against the broken stone beneath him. “I really do.”
Across the bridge, the First King watched him with narrowing gold eyes. The amusement was gone now, along with the absolute certainty that had defined him since rising from the throne. Hatred still burned there, but something else had surfaced beneath it for the first time. Confusion.
Confusion was dangerous. Matt intended to make it fatal.
Vale shouted from somewhere to his left. “Baptiste, status!”
“Western stabilizer set!” Baptiste called back. “I’m moving to the eastern anchor!”
A fresh crack split across the bridge between Matt and the throne, widening fast enough to send chunks of black stone tumbling into the abyss below.
The King lifted one hand.
Every corrupted wolf in the chamber turned toward Matt.
Matt smiled again.
It felt different in this shape. Sharper. Meaner. Full of teeth.
“Come on, then,” he said.
They came. The swarm hit him from three sides at once.
Matt met the first wolf head-on, driving one massive clawed hand through its chest while his other arm caught a second creature across the throat and hurled it over the edge. A third slammed into his side hard enough to skid him backward several feet, claws tearing through fur and skin.
Pain tore through his side, and laughter rose from somewhere deeper than thought.
Matt twisted, caught the creature by the back of the neck, and drove it face-first into the stone until the bridge cracked beneath its skull.
Behind him, Theron moved.
Matt felt it before he saw it.
The bond snapped tight between them, and suddenly Theron was there at his side, not behind him where Matt wanted him, but beside him where Matt should have known he would be.
Of course he would not stay back, and of course he would choose the most emotionally inconvenient time possible to become noble and terrifying.
Theron’s claws tore through a corrupted wolf lunging for Matt’s blind side. He moved with lethal precision, still mostly human in shape but carrying the speed and violence of the ancient wolf beneath it.
For one impossible second, they fought together without speaking, moving around each other like they had done it a thousand times before.
The bond settled between them, steady enough that neither needed to think. It was partnership, and the realization hit Matt hard enough that he nearly missed the next attack.
Theron caught it first. “Left.”
Matt turned and slammed his shoulder into the charging wolf, sending it crashing into two others before they could reach the stabilizer team crossing the eastern bridge.
Vale’s rifle cracked repeatedly from behind them. “Keep them off Baptiste!”
“Working on it!” Matt shouted. His voice came out rougher now, shaped by the hyena’s jaws, but the words were still his.
The King noticed that too. Matt saw it in the sudden narrowing of those gold eyes. The First King did not understand how Matt could be this shifted and still himself.
Good. Let him choke on it.
Theron’s hand caught briefly against Matt’s shoulder as they moved past each other in the fight. The contact lasted less than a second, but the bond surged violently between them anyway, bright enough that Matt felt it ripple through the chamber itself.
The reaction was immediate.
Several corrupted wolves faltered mid-charge while the pressure saturating the throne room shifted sharply around them, like the mountain itself had momentarily lost balance.
It was not enough to stop the swarm completely.
But it was enough for Baptiste to reach the eastern anchor. “Second stabilizer going hot!” Baptiste shouted.
Matt saw the realization form behind those ancient gold eyes the moment the stabilizer activated. The hatred aimed at him disappeared instantly, replaced by cold calculation.
The King's gaze moved from Baptiste to Theron before settling on the bridge spanning the heart seal.
Matt knew what he was about to do.
“No.”
The First King drove one hand into the stone.
The entire central bridge buckled violently beneath them.
Theron lost footing.
Matt lunged for him, but the stone split between them as a massive fracture tore across the span. Theron dropped near the edge, claws scraping for purchase as the bridge collapsed beneath him.
Matt threw himself forward.
His jaws closed around Theron’s armored forearm while his front claws tore into the remaining stone.
For one breath, everything stopped.
Theron hung over the broken edge, one clawed hand still embedded in the fractured stone, while red light pulsed far below him like the heartbeat of the mountain itself.
Matt held him carefully despite the enormous force locked through his jaws, teeth pressing through fabric without breaking the flesh beneath it.
Don’t you dare.
The refusal tore through the bond without sound.
The King’s voice filled the chamber. “Let him fall.”
Matt bared his teeth, and the answer surged through the bond with violent clarity.
Go to hell.
Matt drove all four paws backward, hauling Theron upward with the strength of his neck and shoulders.
Stone exploded apart around his claws as the bridge tilted violently toward the abyss below. Theron’s grip slipped once, and panic detonated through the bond hard enough to nearly blind him.
Matt snarled and hauled backward with everything the shift gave him.
Theron came up over the edge, and they crashed hard across the remaining stone together.
Matt needed words, and the hyena had none.
Pain tore through Matt as he forced the full shift backward. The hyena fought to remain, furious and protective, but bone and muscle compressed beneath blood-matted fur until Matt landed on hands and knees beside Theron, still clawed and only partially human but capable of speech again.
Theron tried to rise.
Matt pressed him back down. “No.”
Theron stared up at him in startled silence while the throne chamber shook violently around them.
Somewhere behind Matt, another section of bridge collapsed into the abyss with a deafening roar.
Gunfire continued erupting across the outer platforms while corrupted wolves threw themselves toward the stabilizer teams with reckless desperation.
But Matt barely registered any of it.
His attention remained fixed entirely on Theron. “You do not get to make that decision for me.”
The bond pulsed violently between them, stripped raw enough now that Matt could feel every emotion Theron failed to bury beneath his control.
Beneath the fear lay grief. Theron was already preparing to leave him behind.
Theron pushed himself upright more this time. “If the charge is not placed—”
“We’ll place it.”
“The King is trying to force me into the heart seal.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “And I’m getting real tired of his opinions.”
Theron’s resistance faltered, exposing an affection so unguarded that panic climbed higher inside Matt’s chest.
The First King noticed.
Rage rolled through the chamber hard enough that the remaining chains screamed beneath the throne. Black mineral surged farther across the bridges while the ancient wolf advanced another step toward them, gold eyes fixed entirely on Theron.
“You weaken him,” the King said.
Matt rose to his feet between them. “No,” he answered. “I remind him he’s allowed to want something.”
The chamber went still beneath the mountain’s continuing groans and the crash of stone collapsing somewhere deeper below the throne chamber. But the emotional pressure saturating the space shifted hard enough that even Vale glanced toward them from the western bridge.
The King’s expression darkened. “You think desire makes him stronger?”
“I think you spent centuries convincing him he was only useful when he suffered.” The words landed harder than Matt expected. He saw it in Theron’s face. The older wolf had gone completely still behind him.
And somewhere beneath the rage flooding the chamber, Matt felt the King falter. Just for a second. Because Matt was right.
The First King had built everything on obedience, bloodline, sacrifice, and control. Matt rejected the entire system, and worse, Theron was beginning to reject it too.
The King’s rage exploded through the chamber. Every corrupted wolf still capable of moving launched itself toward the central bridge at once.
“Here they come!” Vale shouted.
Matt stepped forward, claws extending again as the hyena surged hard beneath his skin. But this time Theron moved with him. Not behind him. Beside him.
The bond tightened sharply between them as they faced the charging swarm together, and Matt felt something inside Theron finally change. The hesitation that had defined him for centuries was gone.
Theron was choosing.
The realization hit the King just as hard as it hit Matt. For one brief moment, the ancient wolf no longer looked certain he would win.