Page 62 of The Purrfect Rival

“You have two minutes to decide,” he announced. “The north corridor leads to the fox family compound, which my men have surrounded. The south passage will take you to the Leonid estate, currently being infiltrated by another team.”

Ice spread through Kalyna’s veins. Her parents—Winston and Marisol—would be preparing for bed about now, perhaps reading in the living room with the windows open to the night air. Vulnerable.

Rust’s expression hardened into stone, the gold in his eyes intensifying as he processed the threat to his own family. His mother, Aurelia, alone in the Leonid mansion since his father’s death.

“You can’t save both,” Boz continued, pleasure evident in his voice. “And to make things interesting?—”

He pressed a button. The floor beneath them split open along the center line, creating a widening gap. Kalyna stumbled backward while Rust leaped to the opposite side. The chasm between them grew until it stretched ten feet across, too wide for most of them to jump.

More panels slid open along the walls, revealing armed guards who immediately began herding the separated shifters down different corridors. Kalyna found herself pushed away from Rust, the distance between them expanding with each step.

No magical shock accompanied the separation, but something deeper and more primal tore through her—her fox nature howling in protest as the bond stretched taut between them. She caught one last glimpse of Rust’s face—his expression mirroring the same visceral distress she felt as they were forced apart.

“This way!” Echo hissed, taking advantage of the guards’ momentary distraction to pull her toward a side passage. “I found maintenance tunnels during my captivity.”

Kalyna hesitated, her body physically resisting movement that took her farther from Rust. Her fox instincts warred with each other—pack loyalty versus mate bond. The cold calculation of Boz’s plan became clear: force them to choose between their families and each other, knowing their clan instincts might override even their connection to each other.

With a last, desperate glance over her shoulder, she followed Echo into the narrow passage.

They crawled through maintenance ducts, Echo leading with surprising confidence. “Boz likes to yap during interrogations,” he explained bitterly. “Gave me plenty of time to memorize the blueprint he kept in the main room.”

The ducts opened into a storage room. Kalyna shifted more fully to human form, though she maintained her fox ears and heightened senses.

“We need to warn Mother and Father,” she said, the words catching in her throat. “And find Rust.”

Echo nodded toward a metal stairwell. “Communications center one level down. We can send warnings from there.”

FIFTY-NINE

Kalyna moved with uncharacteristic directness, her usual fox caution blending with something new—a lion-like decisiveness that had her taking point as they descended the stairs. Her mind remained split, one part focused on their immediate safety while another strained through the bond, trying to sense Rust across the distance.

The awareness remained, but muted—like a compass with a weak magnetic pull, providing general direction but little else. The separation left an ache in her chest, a hollow space her fox recognized as wrong on a fundamental level.

They encountered two guards outside the communications room. Before Echo could suggest an illusory distraction, Kalyna signaled for a direct approach. The fox attacked in coordinated pairs—one creating a momentary sensory illusion while the other struck physical blows. The guards went down before they could radio for help.

“That was...” Echo stared at his sister with newfound respect. “Not very fox-like.”

She didn’t respond, already moving to the communications console. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, accessing security systems and external lines. Years managing the library’stechnological infrastructure made the system familiar enough to navigate.

“Warning sent to both estates,” she confirmed moments later. “But we need to move. Boz’s men will trace the signal.”

Her eyes scanned the security monitors, searching through camera feeds for any sign of Rust. The compound schematics showed three main buildings connected by underground passages—they’d need to navigate the entire eastern wing to reach the section where the lions had been herded.

“This way,” she directed, leading her brother through maintenance passages toward the section where she sensed Rust.

Unlike her typical approach to danger—creating elaborate illusions to confuse and misdirect—Kalyna now moved with focused purpose. Her fox provided the perfect skills for infiltration—finding paths too narrow for pursuing guards, sensing patrols before they appeared, identifying weak points in security barriers.

Yet something had changed in her strategy. Where once she might have created illusory duplicates to scatter attention, she now directed precise strikes. Where she might have sought the longest but safest route, she now calculated acceptable risks for faster progress.

“You’re different,” Echo observed as they paused at an intersection, waiting for a patrol to pass. “There’s lion in your decisions now.”

Kalyna didn’t deny it. She’d felt the change—subtle shifts in her instincts and reactions that carried Rust’s influence. Just as she sensed through their weakened bond that he moved with more fox-like awareness than any lion had right to possess.

As they navigated deeper into the compound, her fox senses picked up the distinctive sound of combat ahead—roars and shouting, the impact of bodies against barriers. The bond flaredstronger with proximity, pulling her forward with increasing urgency.

They emerged in a mezzanine overlooking a large open area where Rust and several lion shifters fought Boz’s elite guards. The lions had shifted to varying degrees—some full beasts, others in partial form with clawed hands and glowing eyes.

Rust fought at the center, his movements a blend of lion power and surprising agility. He dodged a guard’s strike with a pivot that no lion should have managed, countering with a blow that carried all his natural strength.

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