Page 2 of The Purrfect Rival (Enchanted Falls #1)
TWO
K alyna abandoned her papers and hurried to the shelves, pressing her palms against the fluttering books. “Settle down,” she whispered, more to herself than the books. “Just pre-council nerves.”
The pages gradually stilled, though a faint crimson glow lingered around her fingertips. Kalyna took several deep breaths, centering herself the way her grandmother had taught her decades ago. Focus on the senses—the leather beneath her fingers, the scent of old paper and binding glue, the distant murmur of Lucella reading to children.
When her magic receded to a manageable simmer, she returned to her desk and finished organizing her materials. Ten minutes to reach town hall. Cutting it closer than she liked, but still doable.
She swept through the main room, catching Lucella’s eye over the heads of enthralled children.
“Council time?” Lucella mouthed.
Kalyna nodded, holding up her folders.
“Knock ’em dead!” Lucella called, then lowered her voice as the children turned to look. “But not literally. We need their approval.”
Autumn air greeted Kalyna as she stepped outside, crisp with pine and the faint sweetness of the magical falls that gave the town its name. Golden afternoon light bathed the cobblestone streets of Enchanted Falls where supernatural beings of all varieties went about their daily business, but seldom mixed except for polite greetings. The library was one of the few places where every species came to share resources without discrimination.
She strode quickly past Honeycrisp Bakery where Tilly waved from behind a counter of floating pastries. The half-fae baker called out, “Good luck, dear!” without breaking concentration on her hovering creations.
“Thank you!” Kalyna called back, not slowing her pace.
Her mind raced ahead to the council chamber, rehearsing key points about the library’s structural needs. So focused was she on her mental preparation that she nearly collided with Sheriff Ironclaw at the corner of Moonstone Avenue.
“Whoa, there, Ms. Foxworthy,” the wolf shifter said, steadying her with a weathered hand. “Town hall emergency?”
“Council presentation,” she explained. “The library’s west wing?—”
“Ah, say no more.” He nodded sympathetically. “Those support beams finally giving out?”
“You know?”
“Been a lawman long enough to spot structural problems before they become criminal matters.” He tipped his hat. “You got my vote for whatever needs fixing. Can’t have our librarian crushed by falling rafters.”
“Appreciate the support,” she said with a grateful smile, continuing her brisk pace.
As she approached the town square, Enchanted Falls Town Hall loomed ahead, its stone facade and ancient timber frame radiating quiet power. Runes carved into the doorways glowed faintly—protective wards established by the town’s founders centuries ago.
Her steps slowed as she drew nearer, anxiety fluttering in her chest. Through the stained-glass windows, shadowy figures moved within the council chamber. She was cutting it close.
A voice called her name, and she turned to see Lucella sprinting across the square, a folder clutched in her hand.
“The structural engineer’s report!” Lucella gasped, pressing the document into Kalyna’s hands. “You left it behind.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Relief washed through her. Without the engineer’s assessment, half her presentation would have fallen flat.
“I know.” Lucella beamed, then gripped Kalyna’s shoulders. “Remember—passion, drama, and if all else fails, bat your eyelashes at the new mayor. Mrs. Plumthorn says he’s got a weakness for intelligent women.”
“I’m not batting anything at anyone.” But Kalyna couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s persistence.
“We’ll see about that after you meet him.” Lucella gave her a gentle push toward the steps. “Go get ’em!”
Drawing a deep breath, Kalyna squared her shoulders and climbed the stone stairs. At the massive double doors, she paused, one hand on the iron handle. The enormity of what she was asking—funds the town might not have to spare, for a building many considered a luxury rather than a necessity—pressed down on her.
But the library wasn’t just a building. It was the heart of Enchanted Falls, a repository of knowledge both mundane and magical, a sanctuary for seekers of all kinds. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it crumble on her watch.
With renewed determination, she pulled open the heavy door and walked toward the council chamber.
The scent hit her first—ancient wood, leather-bound books, and the subtle mingling of shifter magic that permeated places where supernatural beings gathered in numbers. The high ceiling captured whispers and held them, creating a constant, soft murmur beneath the official proceedings.
Towering windows caught the late afternoon sun, casting long rectangles of golden light across the polished marble floor. Inside the room, a semicircle of imposing high-backed chairs faced the central dais, each seat occupied by an elder representing Enchanted Falls’s supernatural factions.
Kalyna recognized them all including her uncle Lysander Foxworthy with his silvered-red hair and shrewd eyes and Jinli Leonid, regal and intimidating in her lion elder authority who was also part of the same pride as the mayor and his family.
Movement at the chamber’s edge caught her attention. Her much younger brother Echo leaned against a marble column, his vibrant red hair marking him unmistakably as a Foxworthy. When he spotted her, he shot a mischievous salute, eyes dancing with barely contained fox magic.
She’d taken three steps into the chamber when her gaze landed on the figure standing at the council’s central podium, and everything—the elders, the chamber, her carefully prepared speech—faded to insignificance.
Rust Leonid.
The name whispered through her mind as her eyes drank him in. The rumors hadn’t done him justice. Tall and powerfully built, he commanded the space without effort, his tailored navy suit emphasizing broad shoulders and a frame that radiated contained power. Golden-blond hair was swept back from a strong forehead, highlighting aristocratic features that spoke of generations of lion nobility.
But it was his eyes that seized her—molten gold irises that seemed to glow with internal light, predatory and mesmerizing beneath lashes several shades darker than his hair. Those weren’t just lion eyes, they were royal lion eyes, carrying the weight of two centuries of life and uncompromising authority.
Those eyes locked onto hers across the chamber, and the world tilted on its axis.
Heat exploded in Kalyna’s chest, radiating outward in a rush that left her breathless. Her fox magic—usually so carefully controlled—surged beneath her skin like a tide answering the moon’s call, reaching instinctively toward him.
The fox within her, that primal part of her shifter nature that observed and evaluated separately from her human consciousness, went utterly still. Not with fear, but with recognition—the kind of bone-deep awareness that transcended rational thought.
Mine , it whispered in the recesses of her mind. Dangerous. Powerful. Perfect.
The intensity of her reaction stunned her. Never had she experienced this visceral, immediate pull. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears; her skin prickled with heightened sensitivity; her lungs struggled to draw in enough air.
And still, those golden eyes held hers, widening slightly as if he felt the same inexplicable connection arcing between them.
A hushed murmur spread among the council members as the moment stretched beyond propriety. Kalyna became acutely aware that she’d frozen just inside the doorway, staring at the mayor like she’d been struck by lightning.
With monumental effort, she forced herself to move forward, gripping her folders so tightly, her knuckles whitened. Each step toward the center of the chamber felt like moving through honey, her senses hyperaware of Rust tracking her movement.
His scent reached her as she drew closer—cedar and mountain air layered over something distinctly leonine that made her fox magic curl pleasurably beneath her skin. Not threatening as lion scents usually registered to fox shifters, but enticing. Compelling.
“Ms. Foxworthy,” Jinli Leonid’s cultured voice cut through the haze of awareness. “How fortunate you’ve arrived. We were about to address the library situation.”
Kalyna dragged her attention away from Rust, focusing on the lion elder. “Thank you for including this matter on today’s agenda.”
“Mayor Leonid has been reviewing the preliminary reports,” Jinli continued, gesturing toward the podium. “Perhaps you can provide him with your complete assessment.”