Page 29 of The Purrfect Rival

“That was... intense,” Lucella commented, gaze darting between Kalyna and Rust with undisguised curiosity. “I swear my ears popped from the pressure.”

Hezron, still rubbing his irritated eyes, flashed a pained grin. “Should have sold tickets. ‘Come see the mayor make out with the librarian while kicking ass.’”

Unfortunately, that was the moment the sheriff chose to walk in. She was thankful it wasn’t Ms. Plumthorn. No telling what the rumor mills would have come up with after hearing that.

As Rust and the sheriff spoke, Kalyna went about gathering scattered papers from busted-open crates. Among them, she found a leather-bound ledger, its pages filled with neat handwriting she recognized with a chill.

“Rust,” she called, voice tight. “This is the same writing as on the message the attackers left in the parking lot at the restaurant. Boz’s handwriting?”

He appeared at her side instantly, his presence a solid warmth against her back as he leaned over her shoulder. The proximity should have been distracting, yet somehow it grounded her, allowing her to focus on the disturbing contents of the ledger.

“Magical transference between shifter bloodlines,” she read aloud, flipping through pages of detailed notes. “Fox-to-lion potential... Twinned-Tail amplification methods...” Her heart sank with each revealing phrase. “He’s not just studying fox magic. I think he’s trying to harness it—to take it.”

Rust’s expression hardened. “The Twinned-Tail Charm isn’t just a trophy. It’s part of something bigger.”

The implications chilled Kalyna to her core. The stolen fox heirloom—the very artifact she’d been tasked with protecting—wasn’t simply a valuable trinket but potentially a key component in a dangerous magical experiment.

“We need to take this to the council,” Sheriff Ironclaw said. “This goes beyond petty theft.”

Kalyna nodded, collecting more scattered papers. She noticed Lucella and Hezron exchanging meaningful glances—their usual bickering temporarily suspended by the gravity of their discovery.

As they exited the warehouse into the cool night air, Kalyna’s hand found Rust’s without conscious thought. His fingers interlaced with hers, warm and secure, neither of them acknowledging aloud what that simple contact represented. She knew something fundamental had changed between them—something that made the growing threat around them all the more dangerous.

Her fox pressed close to the surface of her consciousness, savoring the contact that her human side might have questioned.

Yet standing beside Rust under the starlit sky, their hands joined and magic still humming between them, Kalyna faced that uncertain future with something unexpected taking root within her—a sensation her fox had recognized from the first moment their eyes met across the council chamber even as her human mind had resisted.

The inexorable pull of destiny.

TWENTY-SIX

Kalyna’s eyes snapped open at dawn, her body instantly alert despite the lingering soreness from yesterday’s confrontation.

She sat up, pushing copper hair from her face, and immediately summoned a small fox-fire ball to hover above her palm. She studied it critically, relieved to see the usual crimson glow rather than the washed-out pink it had been after the poisoned blade struck.

“Still got it,” she murmured, flicking her wrist to send the magical orb dancing across the room. She split it into three separate flames with a quick gesture, making them weave complex patterns before extinguishing them with a snap of her fingers.

The warehouse ambush flooded back—the masked figures, Rust’s magnificent transformation, and the searing kiss that had ignited more than just magic between them. The memory sent heat cascading through her body.

Her fox stirred restlessly beneath her skin, yearning to shift and run until the chaotic mix of emotions sorted themselves out. “Down, girl,” she whispered to her animal self. “We’ll sort this out.”

A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. The door swung open before she could respond, and her mother breezed in carrying a steaming mug.

“You’re up early,” her mother noted, setting the tea on the nightstand. “Testing your magic already?”

Kalyna arched an eyebrow. “What are you?—”

“The ceiling’s still smoking.” Marisol pointed upward where faint crimson trails marked the path of Kalyna’s foxfire exercise.

“Oops.” Kalyna waved her hand, dispelling the magical residue. “Force of habit. First thing Grandmother taught me—always check your magic after an injury.”

“Wise woman, my mother.” Marisol’s expression softened. “She would have approved of your diligence, if not your ceiling preservation skills.”

Kalyna laughed, the sound lightening her mood. “Remember when I accidentally set the curtains on fire trying to create illusion butterflies?”

“How could I forget? Your father’s eyebrows took months to grow back.” Marisol perched on the window seat. “Lucella called us late last night. She told us about the warehouse and how you were poisoned. She wanted me and your father to look in on you to make sure you didn’t have any lasting effects. How do you feel?”

Kalyna shrugged. “Physically? Fine. The poison’s gone. Whatever else is happening with my magic...” She trailed off.

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