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ONE

LEO

T he letter had been sitting on Elder Ruth's desk for three days, its elegant script seeming to mock everyone who looked at it. Lyra stared at the unopened envelope again, her founder's mark tingling with recognition and warning in equal measure. Elder Ruth remained silent as she stared at it.

The return address simply read "A Friend" in handwriting that seemed to rewrite between languages when she wasn't looking directly at it.

"Still nothing from Nico's magical analysis?" she asked, though she could see the answer in Ruth's grim expression.

"The enchantments are layered too deeply," Ruth replied, her knitting needles clicking with unusual agitation. "Whatever this is, it was prepared by someone with considerable knowledge of fae magic. Opening it could trigger anything from a simple message spell to a soul-binding curse."

Cade leaned against the window of the town hall meeting room, his attention split between the mysterious correspondence and the forest road beyond.

His wolf had been restless for days, sensing changes in the supernatural atmosphere that his human mind couldn't quite identify.

The bond between him and Lyra hummed with shared unease— something was coming to Mistwhisper Falls, and neither of them was sure they were prepared for it.

"Movement on the access road," Cade said suddenly, his enhanced vision picking up details the others couldn't see. "Silver sedan, single occupant. Driving like they know exactly where they're going."

Through the window, Lyra could see a flash of sunlight reflecting off metal as a car wound its way up the mountain road toward town. The vehicle moved with the steady confidence of someone who'd studied maps and planned their route carefully, not the hesitant progress of a lost tourist.

"That's not a local car," Sheriff Torres observed, joining them at the window. "Registration plates are from out of state, and it's too clean for mountain driving. Whoever that is came here with a purpose."

The sedan pulled into the town square twenty minutes later, parking with mathematical precision between two designated spaces.

The driver who emerged was tall and elegant, with dark auburn hair pulled back in a severe bun and clothing that suggested both expensive taste and practical considerations.

She moved with the fluid grace of someone accustomed to being the most intelligent person in any room, her pale eyes already cataloging architectural details and supernatural signatures with scholarly intensity.

"Fae," Cade said immediately, his wolf reacting to something in her scent that carried across the distance. "Old bloodline, probably nobility. And she's not here for the tourist attractions."

The woman—who couldn't have been much older than Lyra despite an aura of ancient knowledge—pulled a leather satchel from her car and consulted a hand-drawn map.

Her attention focused immediately on the town hall, and she began walking toward the building with the determined stride of someone who'd traveled a long way to ask specific questions.

"Should we—" Lyra began, but her words were cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway outside the meeting room.

The door opened without a knock, and Police Captain Leo Maddox filled the frame like a force of nature constrained by a uniform.

He was a big man—not just tall but broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with golden-brown hair and eyes that held the predatory focus of a hunting cat.

His badge gleamed against a chest that suggested he did more than paperwork for exercise, and everything about his presence radiated the kind of controlled authority that made people step aside without thinking about it.

"We have a problem," he said without preamble, his voice carrying the rumble that marked him as a shifter even before his scent confirmed it. "Uninvited researcher just rolled into town asking pointed questions about 'recent supernatural disturbances' and demanding access to historical archives."

"Let me guess," Ruth said dryly. "Tall, red hair, attitude that could cut glass?"

"That's the one." Leo's expression was thunderous. "She flashed credentials from some fae university and started name-dropping council members like she's done her homework. Problem is, her homework includes information about the founder runes that's supposed to be classified."

Through the window, they could see the woman in question examining the town square with the focused attention of someone conducting a survey.

She'd produced a notebook from her satchel and was making detailed sketches of the fountain, the municipal building, and the carefully maintained landscaping that hid protective wards from casual observation.

"Did she give a name?" Lyra asked, though her founder's mark was already providing uncomfortable hints about the stranger's identity.

"Dr. Aerin Thorne, professor of ancient magical studies at the University of the Northern Courts.

" Leo's tone suggested he'd rather be saying 'pain in my ass who needs to leave town immediately.

' "She claims to be researching 'cascade failure patterns in historical binding sites' and insists she has academic authority to examine our records. "

"Cascade failures?" Ruth's knitting stopped entirely. "That's not academic terminology. That's crisis management language."

"Exactly what I thought." Leo moved to the window, his presence immediately changing the energy in the room.

Lions were apex predators, and even in human form, his awareness of potential threats was absolute.

"She knows something specific about what happened during the storm.

Question is, how much and who told her?"

Outside, Dr. Thorne had finished her initial survey and was approaching the town hall entrance.

Her movements were economical and precise, suggesting someone accustomed to hostile environments and uncooperative subjects.

Everything about her body language indicated she was prepared for a fight and confident about winning it.

"I'll handle this," Leo said, already heading for the door.

"Carefully," Ruth warned. "If she's legitimate academic authority, we can't simply order her to leave. And if she's something else..."

"Then we'll find out what 'something else' means," Leo finished grimly.

The confrontation began the moment Dr. Thorne reached the top of the town hall steps.

"Dr. Thorne, I presume?" Leo's voice carried the kind of professional courtesy that was really a challenge wrapped in politeness. "I'm Captain Maddox, local law enforcement. I understand you're interested in our municipal records."

When she turned to face him fully, Leo felt his lion stir with immediate, inconvenient interest. She was beautiful in a way that hit him like a physical blow—all sharp intelligence and elegant bone structure, with auburn hair that caught the afternoon light and pale eyes that seemed to catalog everything about him in a single glance.

The scent that reached his enhanced senses carried notes of winter storms and old magic that made his wolf pace restlessly with recognition.

"Captain." Her acknowledgment was equally polite and equally weighted with underlying tension, though Aerin found herself momentarily distracted by the man facing her.

He was exactly the kind of physical presence that usually made her academic colleagues nervous—broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with golden eyes that held predatory focus and an air of controlled authority that suggested he was used to being obeyed without question.

The way he moved, the careful precision of his stance, even the scent of pine and leather that clung to his skin—all of it triggered responses in her fae heritage.

"Yes, I'm conducting research on historical magical sites for the University of the Northern Courts.

I have proper academic credentials and research authorization. "

"I'm sure you do." Leo forced himself to focus on protocol despite the way her presence was affecting his concentration.

Something about her made his lion want to either claim her immediately or challenge her authority, and neither response was appropriate for a professional interaction.

"Unfortunately, our historical archives are currently restricted due to ongoing municipal reorganization.

I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to submit a formal request and wait for the appropriate processing period. "

Dr. Thorne's smile was sharp enough to cut glass, though Leo caught a flicker of what seemed like appreciation for his directness. "How convenient. And how long might this 'processing period' typically last?"

"Hard to say. Could be weeks. Could be months. Bureaucracy moves slowly in small towns." The stubborn tilt of her chin when he refused her request made Leo's pulse quicken that didn’t have anything to do with his job.

"Captain Maddox." Her tone shifted into something more direct, abandoning the pretense of academic politeness and burying the sense of attraction fully.

"I'm not a tourist interested in genealogy research.

I'm investigating supernatural phenomena that have been registered by monitoring stations across three states.

The magical surge that originated from this location was significant enough to trigger emergency protocols at multiple research facilities. "

Leo's stance shifted subtly, his lion recognizing a potential threat. "I'm not sure what you're talking about. We had some severe weather recently, but nothing that would qualify as a 'supernatural phenomenon.'"