Page 6 of The Purrfect Rival

The word hit Rust like a physical blow. Mate. His lion roared in agreement, the sound echoing inside his head while memories of those moments with Kalyna flooded his senses.

Her scent—parchment and wild cherries with an undercurrent of fox magic that made his nostrils flare. The brush of her fingers against his, delicate yet strong, sending sparks dancing between them. The slight widening of her eyes when she’d felt it too—that electric recognition that had nothing to do with reason and everything to do with primal instinct.

“She’s not my mate,” Rust said, the words hollow even to his own ears.

“Your lion disagrees.” Hezron’s teasing tone softened. “I’ve known you since we were cubs, Rust. I’ve seen you with countless lionesses over the centuries—beautiful, powerful, perfectly suitable matches. Not once have I seen you react like that.”

Rust swiveled back, facing his oldest friend. “It complicates everything.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Hezron picked up the library renovation folder. “The head librarian and the mayor—scandal enough without adding fox-lion politics to the mix.”

The ancient feud between their clans wasn’t active warfare anymore, but centuries of distrust didn’t disappear overnight. Lions valued strength, directness, and established hierarchies. Foxes thrived on cunning, adaptability, and fluid social structures. Their fundamental approaches to life remained at odds, even in peaceful times.

“The elders would never approve,” Rust said.

“Since when do you care about approval? You became an investment banker when the pride wanted you to study law. You built a financial empire instead of focusing solely on Enchanted Falls. You’ve never played by their rules.”

“This is different.” Rust stood, pacing between the bookshelves. “Taking the mayoral position was my concession to tradition. It’s what my father wanted, what my mother needed after he died.”

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, illuminating a portrait of his father in formal mayoral regalia. Augustus Leonid had led Enchanted Falls for nearly a century before his death, continuing the unbroken line of Leonid leadership that stretched back to the town’s founding.

Hezron watched him pace. “So you’ll ignore what happened? Pretend your lion didn’t recognize her fox?”

Rust paused before a display case holding ceremonial artifacts from previous Leonid mayors—golden chains of office, ancient seals, the ceremonial key to the town. Symbols of duty and tradition.

“I need to focus on the library renovation,” he said firmly. “The west wing could collapse without immediate intervention. The entire town depends on that knowledge repository.”

“Convenient distraction.” Hezron straightened, his expression growing serious. “But I saw how you looked at her, Rust. How you couldn’t take your eyes off her during her presentation. The way you tracked her movements like...” He grinned suddenly. “Like a lion eyeing his favorite prey.”

SIX

Rust glared, but couldn’t deny the truth. Throughout the council meeting, his attention had repeatedly gravitated to Kalyna. The graceful sweep of her hands as she explained renovation diagrams. The passionate intensity in her voice when describing the library’s importance to the community. The way a strand of copper-red hair had escaped her elegant twist, brushing against her neck in a way that made him want to reach across the chamber and tuck it back into place.

And that moment—that electric, world-shifting moment when their fingers had touched, and magic had sparked between them...

“She responded to you too,” Hezron pointed out, correctly reading Rust’s thoughts. “Her eyes turned red. Fox-shifters don’t do that for just anyone.”

The memory sent another surge of heat through Rust’s body. Her fox magic had reached for his lion energy, not with fear or defensiveness, but with recognition. A counterpoint harmonizing with his own power.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rust insisted, more to himself than Hezron. “I have responsibilities. So does she.”

“Because responsibilities trump mate-bonds?” Hezron snorted. “Two centuries old and still this stubborn. Look, the council already put you in charge of the library project. You’re going to be working with her regardless. Why fight the inevitable?”

Before Rust could answer, the landline phone on his desk rang with a subdued chime. The caller ID displayed “Aurelia Leonid.”

“Speaking of responsibilities,” Rust muttered. “My mother.”

Hezron stood, heading for the door. “I’ll leave you to it. But think about what I said. Some forces can’t be denied—not even by the mighty Rust Leonid.”

Alone again, Rust stared at the ringing phone. Duty called, as always. With a sigh, he reached for the receiver.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Darling!” Aurelia’s voice flowed like honey, warm and sweet with hidden purpose. “I’ve been hearing the most fascinating things about today’s council meeting.”

Rust sank into his chair. “News travels fast.”

“In a town of supernatural beings with enhanced senses? Always.” She chuckled softly. “Jinli called me personally. Said my son made quite an impression on Lysander’s grandniece. The librarian, isn’t she?”

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