Page 67 of The Purrfect Rival

Even now with the immediate danger past, he struggled to fully suppress the feral fury. His claws kept threatening to emerge, eyes flashing gold whenever he caught sight of the bandage visible beneath her torn sleeve.

“You’re projecting,” Kalyna murmured, close enough that only he could hear. “I can feel your anger through the bond.”

He took a measured breath, forcing his lion to heel. “You’re injured.”

“And perfectly capable of fighting.” Her chin lifted with fox-like defiance. “This isn’t your battle alone anymore.”

Behind them, Hezron led a handpicked team—three lion shifters from his security team, Echo and Lucella representing the fox, and the elderly Willow, whose neutral witch status might prove crucial in the confrontation ahead. They moved in practiced formation, every step calculated and silent.

The forest thinned as they approached the hill’s crest. Ancient oaks gave way to weathered stone monoliths, their surfaces etched with symbols older than any living shifter. The Full Moon Ritual Circle—one of the most potent magical convergence points in Enchanted Falls territory, sacred to all shifter clans.

Rust signaled the group to halt, dropping into a crouch at the edge of the clearing. What he saw made his blood run cold.

The ritual circle’s natural serenity had been desecrated. The standing stones that usually gleamed silver in moonlight now pulsed with sickly green energy. Runes carved into the ground between them glowed with the same unnatural hue, forming a complex pattern that distorted the site’s inherent magic. At the center, Boz knelt within a circle of black candles, his form partially shifted—lion aspects grotesquely enhanced and twisted by dark magic.

Around him, two dozen followers maintained the ritual’s boundary, their chanting a discordant counterpoint to the natural night sounds. Four mages channeled power through tainted artifacts placed at the cardinal points—and at the northern position, Rust spotted the fox heirloom, its natural crimson light muted beneath layers of binding spells.

“He’s almost completed the preparation phase,” Willow whispered, her body tense. “The actual ritual begins when the moon reaches its zenith.”

“Twenty minutes,” Hezron confirmed, checking the night sky.

Rust’s tactical mind assessed their options, weighing each potential approach against likely casualties. “The artifact is our primary target. Without it, the ritual collapses.”

“We need a diversion,” Echo suggested, eyes gleaming with fox cunning. “Something to draw attention from the northern point.”

“My lions can provide that,” Rust decided. “Kalyna, your illusions could create confusion while Echo attempts to retrieve the artifact.”

“And what about Boz?” Lucella asked, her usual playfulness replaced by grim focus.

Rust’s jaw tightened. “He’s mine.”

“Ours,” Kalyna corrected softly, her fingers brushing his wrist where a matching claim mark had formed. “Remember our advantage.”

She was right. Their newly forged bond gave them unprecedented capabilities—her fox strategy complementing his lion strength, their magics amplifying each other in ways neither clan had witnessed for centuries. He nodded, acknowledging her point.

“We attack from three directions,” he instructed. “Hezron, take the eastern approach with your lions. Create maximum disruption. Lucella, Echo—target the northern point where the artifact is positioned. Elder Willow, can you counter their magical barriers?”

The ancient witch nodded, her weathered face serene despite the danger. “The dark magic has weaknesses. I can create brief openings in their defenses.”

“Kalyna and I will approach from the west,” Rust continued. “We’ll target Boz directly.”

The group separated, moving into position with practiced silence. As Rust and Kalyna circled toward their designated approach, he felt her presence in his mind growing stronger—a side effect of their completed bond that still surprised him with its intimacy.

“Your shoulder?” he asked quietly.

“Healing,” she replied, though he could sense the lingering pain she tried to hide. “Your magic helps significantly.”

He remembered the taste of her blood as he’d cleaned her wound—copper and honey, fox magic intertwining with his lion energy as his saliva triggered accelerated healing.

They reached their position just as scattered clouds dissipated, bathing the ritual circle in cold moonlight. The chanting intensified, Boz’s voice rising above the others as he began the final incantation. Green fire erupted around the central altar, casting eerie shadows across the ancient stones.

SIXTY-FIVE

Rust checked the position of the others. Hezron and his lions were poised at the eastern edge, muscles coiled for attack. At the northern boundary, Echo and Lucella had slipped into shadow, nearly invisible even to his enhanced vision. Elder Willow stood slightly apart, her gnarled hands already weaving counter-spells.

He met Kalyna’s eyes one last time, the bond between them humming with shared purpose. “Together.”

“Together,” she echoed, fox magic shimmering around her fingertips.

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