Page 18 of The Purrfect Rival

The words hit like physical blows. Rust’s mind raced through implications even as his gaze remained fixed on Kalyna. When their eyes met across the room, the uncertainty in her expression cut deeper than any accusation.

“Who discovered this?” His voice emerged steadier than he felt.

“Ms. Foxworthy arrived early. Found the door broken open.” The sheriff gestured toward whatever Kalyna held.

Rust crossed to her, acutely aware of watching eyes. His lion urged him to pull her close, to shield her from this chaos, to rumble comforting purrs against her hair. He fought the impulses down and extended his hand instead.

“May I?”

Kalyna hesitated, then passed him a red box. Their fingers brushed—no magical sparks this time, only a current of tension. He lifted the lid to find an empty box. The magical talisman must have been inside.

“Show me where you found this.”

He followed her through a thick door that had been forced open. She stopped at the back of the room where a tall combination vault sat opened.

“Who knows the combination?” he asked her.

“Only a few people. Me, the skulk elders. That’s it as far as I know. But it shouldn’t matter. The safe is protected so only certain people can open it.”

Rust stepped up to the metal door and sniffed the surface. When he leaned close to the interior, he picked up a fragrance he knew well.

Boz.

“A scent here belongs to my cousin,” he stated, meeting Kalyna’s eyes directly. “But I’ll need to speak with him before making assumptions.”

Her gaze remained guarded, a tiny furrow between her brows. His lion whined, distressed by her doubt.

“An emergency council meeting has been called.”

Lysander Foxworthy stood in the doorway, silver threading his auburn hair. His eyes—so similar to Kalyna’s—hardened as they settled on Rust.

“The council expects your presence in thirty minutes, Mayor.” His emphasis on the title dripped with disdain. “We have much to discuss about clan... accountability.”

Lysander’s gaze flicked deliberately between Rust and Kalyna, a silent warning that raised Rust’s hackles. His lion bristled beneath his skin, the territorial response so strong, his fingertips tingled with the threat of emerging claws.

“I’ll be there,” Rust replied, his voice deceptively calm. “And I assure you, no one wants the truth more than I do.”

SIXTEEN

The council chamber felt like a trap. Elders from every supernatural faction in Enchanted Falls occupied their traditional seats in the circular room, their expressions ranging from concerned to openly hostile.

Rust strode to his place at the head with deliberate confidence. Two centuries of lion pride wouldn’t let him show hesitation, even as his nostrils flared at the scents of suspicion and judgment filling the air.

Jinli Leonid sat to his right, her golden eyes revealing nothing. As both lion elder and his father’s cousin, her neutrality cut deeper than outright accusation.

Lysander Foxworthy sat directly opposite Rust, spine rigid, mouth a thin line of disapproval. The fox elder’s gaze occasionally drifted to where Kalyna sat in the observer section, each glance reinforcing the barrier he intended to erect between them.

Rust’s lion snarled at the presumption. As if anyone could keep him from what was his.

She’s not yours. Yet.

“This emergency session will come to order,” he announced, voice steady. “We’re here to address the theft of a fox heirloom and the partial disappearance of library renovation funds.”

“Interesting how both disappeared while under Leonid supervision,” remarked Councilor Emile Foxworthy, one of Lysander’s nephews.

“The renovation fund falls under mayoral oversight, yes,” Rust conceded. “Sheriff Ironclaw has full access to investigate the bank transfers.”

“And the heirloom talisman?” Lysander’s voice flowed like silk over steel. “A priceless fox artifact with potent magical properties, kept safe for generations until now?”

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