Page 71 of The Purrfect Rival

“You’re one to talk.” His thumb traced slow circles across her knuckles. “Elder Willow wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“How long?”

“Two days.”

She tried to sit up. Pain shot through stiff muscles. Without hesitation, Rust’s arm slipped behind her back, supporting her weight with effortless strength.

“The ritual site?” she asked.

“Cleansed.” His expression softened as he tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear, fingers lingering against her cheek. “Our magic did what centuries of separate attempts couldn’t.”

His touch sent warmth cascading through her, her fox stirring in recognition. She leaned into his hand, savoring the contact after days unconscious.

“And Boz?”

Rust’s jaw tightened. “Under guard at the Leonid estate. The council will determine his fate when you’re well enough to testify.”

“He needs help, not punishment,” she said softly. “The dark magic may be gone, but its influence leaves scars.”

Something flickered in Rust’s eyes—surprise, consideration. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love that about you,” he murmured against her skin. “Compassion where my lion sees only threats to eliminate.”

The words hung between them. Her breath caught—the first time either had spoken of love aloud, though their bond had made it obvious for weeks.

Before she could respond, a knock interrupted them. Her mother appeared, carrying a steaming mug that filled the room with mint and foxglove.

“Thank the stars,” her mother breathed, eyes brightening. “We feared the worst.”

As Marisol approached, Kalyna noted how she acknowledged Rust with a respectful nod—genuine acceptance rather than cautious assessment. The claiming marks had bridged more gaps than their own.

“The council awaits you both,” Marisol said, handing the tea to Kalyna. “They’ve gathered in our parlor each morning.”

“Here?” Kalyna blinked. The fox homestead had never hosted such a gathering—lions, wolves, and bears had always insisted on neutral territory.

“Much has changed,” Rust said, rising reluctantly. “I’ll give you privacy to dress.”

He bent to kiss her, a brief but possessive touch that clearly communicated his reluctance to leave her side. Marisol pretended not to notice, though Kalyna caught her mother’s small smile as she busied herself with the curtains.

“Your mate hasn’t left that chair for two days,” Marisol murmured after Rust departed. “Not even to eat.”

“Stubborn lion,” Kalyna said, but warmth flooded her chest at the thought.

Dressed in a soft blue dress that hung loosely on her frame, Kalyna descended the stairs on her mother’s arm. She stopped short at the parlor entrance, momentarily stunned.

SIXTY-NINE

The Foxworthy parlor—exclusive domain of fox clan for generations—now contained representatives from every shifter clan in Enchanted Falls. Lysander and Jinli sat side-by-side on the floral settee, fox and lion elders in civil conversation. Fenris examined family photographs with genuine interest. Ursula sampled foxberry cakes with appreciative murmurs.

Rust appeared instantly at her side, his hand finding the small of her back. His body radiated heat against her, grounding her in his strength.

The room quieted, all eyes turning toward them. Jinli rose with leonine grace.

“Archivist Foxworthy,” she greeted. “Your recovery brings relief to all clans.”

Kalyna automatically attempted the formal lion bow Rust had taught her—chin down, right arm across chest, left extended at precisely forty-five degrees. A ripple of approval passed through the lion contingent.

Jinli’s eyes widened before her lips curved into a smile. With careful deliberation, she executed a fox greeting in return—a complex series of gestures involving three distinct bow depthsand a final palm flourish. Despite her unfamiliarity with the movements, she performed them with surprising elegance.

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