Page 66 of The Purrfect Rival

Rust’s gaze followed hers, assessing the situation in an instant. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.” With his help, she regained her feet, swaying slightly but stable.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his body already beginning to shift back toward lion form.

“Not a chance.” Her own fox surged forward, lending her strength despite her injury. “We fight together.”

Something flashed in his eyes—pride, concern, acceptance. Then they were moving across the battlefield in perfect tandem, their newly bonded magics synchronizing with each step.

They reached Winston as the barrier shattered. The elder fox staggered, magical exhaustion evident in his pale face. One of the attacking mages lunged forward, spelled blade aimed at Winston’s exposed back.

SIXTY-THREE

Kalyna summoned her remaining strength, creating an illusion directly in the attacker’s path—a wall of solid stone that he would perceive as real. Simultaneously, Rust launched himself at the other two mages, his partially shifted form a blur of golden fury.

The first mage slammed into Kalyna’s illusion at full speed, his perception making the impact as painful as if he’d hit actual stone. He crumpled to the ground, disoriented and vulnerable.

Rust engaged the remaining attackers with terrifying efficiency. Claws extended, he moved faster than human eyes could track, golden magic amplifying his natural lion strength. The mages’ defensive spells crumbled beneath his assault, his rage still evident in the predatory grace of his movements.

Winston stared in undisguised astonishment as lion and fox magic worked in unprecedented harmony. “The prophecy becomes history,” he murmured, gaze fixed on their claiming marks. “Red and gold united.”

Across the property, other defenders had adopted the change. Fox and lion shifters mimicked their tactics just like at Boz’s compound—illusions followed by brute force, stealth paired with strength. Echo created phantom paths that ledattackers directly into Hezron’s ambush. Lucella’s distractions gave a young lioness the perfect opening for devastating counterattacks.

Boz’s forces, unprepared for such unified resistance, began to falter. Their coordinated assault devolved into individual skirmishes, advantages lost as fox and lion shifters discovered effective partnerships after centuries of separation.

The tide turned. Within the hour, the remaining attackers retreated, leaving their wounded behind. Several were captured, including a lieutenant wearing Boz’s personal insignia. Kalyna leaned against Rust as the fighting subsided, her strength depleted but her wound healing thanks to his intervention.

Winston approached through the settling chaos, supported by Marisol. A bandage wrapped his upper arm, but his expression remained alert.

“They’ve retreated,” he reported. “We’ve received a message that the lion estate is secured. Your mother is safe.” Winston nodded to Rust.

Echo dragged a captured lieutenant forward, forcing him to his knees before them. The prisoner’s eyes widened at the sight of their claiming marks, fear replacing defiance.

“Tell them what you told me,” Echo demanded.

The lieutenant swallowed hard. “Boz is at the Full Moon Ritual Circle. The ceremony has already begun.”

“What ceremony?” Rust demanded, his arm tightening protectively around Kalyna’s waist.

The lieutenant pressed his lips together, refusing to answer further.

Elder Willow appeared from the mist. “Boz has channeled corrupted magic into the ritual site.” Her robes billowed around her. “Planning to use it specifically against bonded pairs like you.” She nodded toward their claiming marks.

Winston stepped forward despite his injury, producing a small velvet pouch from inside his jacket.

“The prophecy spoke of red and gold united,” he said solemnly. “A mated pair to heal ancient divides.” He opened the pouch, revealing a fragment of crystal that pulsed with fox magic—a remnant of the family charm. “This contains the last pure essence of the Foxworthy heirloom.”

Kalyna closed her fingers around the fragment, its magic humming in recognition of her bloodline. “We end this tonight,” Rust declared, his voice carrying across the gathered defenders. His fingers interlaced with Kalyna’s, their joined hands raising the crystal fragment. “Together.”

Around them, fox and lion shifters stood side-by-side, ancient divisions momentarily suspended. The claiming marks on their throats gleamed in the moonlight—visible proof of a union many had thought impossible.

Kalyna’s shoulder throbbed where the spelled bolt had struck, a reminder of the danger still facing them. But as she looked up at Rust—his golden eyes fierce with determination, his hand steady around hers—certainty filled her.

SIXTY-FOUR

Rust led the small contingent through the midnight forest, every sense heightened to predatory sharpness. The scent of pine and loamy earth mixed with the metallic tang of magic growing stronger as they approached the ritual site. Beside him, Kalyna moved with determined grace despite her injury, the claiming mark on her neck a stark reminder of what they’d become to each other.

His lion prowled beneath the surface of his skin, agitated and protective. The memory of her blood—that rich copper scent he now recognized as intimately as his own—triggered a renewed surge of rage. He’d seen the spelled bolt strike her, felt her pain lance through their newly formed bond as though the weapon had pierced his own flesh. In that moment, his human consciousness had retreated, the lion taking control with singular purpose: protect his mate.

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