Page 21 of The Purrfect Rival (Enchanted Falls #1)

TWENTY-ONE

P rismatic light danced across the polished oak floor of Enchanted Falls Library as morning sun filtered through stained-glass windows. Kalyna traced her fingertips along the spine of an ancient text, savoring the familiar texture of cracked leather. The scent of aged paper and binding glue wrapped around her like an old friend—a constant in her century-and-a-half of existence.

Her fingers paused on a volume about cross-species magical harmonies. Had she subconsciously selected it? With a quick shake of her head, she placed it aside and continued sorting the historical tomes that needed special attention.

The heavy wooden door crashed open with a thunderous bang that shattered the library’s tranquility. Lucella bounded toward her, hazel eyes alight with barely contained excitement.

“You’ll never believe what’s happening,” Lucella announced, voice echoing through the vaulted ceiling.

Kalyna continued arranging the books by age and origin. “Good morning to you too, Lu.”

“Oh please, morning greetings are for people whose magic doesn’t create temperature shifts that fog up car windows when they almost kiss the town mayor.” Lucella hopped onto the table’s edge, disrupting Kalyna’s careful organization.

A jolt shot through Kalyna’s body, her fingers fumbling a sixteenth-century tome on fox clan lineages. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why? We’re alone, and besides—” Lucella leaned forward conspiratorially, “—Agatha Plumthorn’s been making rounds since dawn, describing in vivid detail how Enchanted Falls’s most eligible lion and its most scholarly fox were seen ‘creating a haze of supernatural energy that made the streetlamps flicker.’”

Heat crept up Kalyna’s neck, spreading across her cheeks. Her fox stirred beneath her skin, preening rather than recoiling at the mention of last night’s encounter. The disconnect between her animal’s reaction and her human embarrassment unsettled her.

“Your fox is showing,” Lucella pointed toward Kalyna’s eyes with undisguised triumph.

Kalyna blinked rapidly, willing her irises to return from telltale crimson to their normal brown. Her fox resisted, savoring the memory of golden eyes and strong hands.

“It wasn’t—” she began, smoothing her burgundy skirt rather than meeting Lucella’s gaze. “The situation was intense. We were investigating.”

“Yes, and somewhere between the investigating and the escaping, you two managed to make the air around you vibrate with enough magical energy that Mrs. Clearwater’s radio three blocks away switched stations all by itself.” Lucella’s eyes sparkled. “Tilly at Honeycrisp is designing a cupcake called ‘Fox-Lion Fusion’ with red and gold swirled frosting.”

Kalyna groaned, pressing cool palms against her burning cheeks. “This town really needs to mind its own business.”

“Speaking of business,” Lucella’s voice dropped to a more genuine tone, “your mother and Aurelia Leonid were spotted having tea at Enchanted Brews this morning.”

Kalyna’s hands froze mid-gesture. “My mother and Rust’s mother? Together?”

Her heart stuttered at the implications. Marisol Foxworthy—keeper of fox traditions, teacher of ancient fox magic, definer of proper fox-clan behavior—willingly sharing tea with the Leonid matriarch? In public?

“Mm-hmm.” Lucella nodded. “Heads together, whispering like conspirators, occasionally scanning the room to check who might notice them.”

A peculiar warmth unfurled in Kalyna’s chest. Her fox practically purred at this development. Maternal approval, even tentative, soothed an anxiety she hadn’t acknowledged was there.

“The town betting pool on when you two announce your courtship just doubled overnight,” Lucella added. “Most money’s on the next full moon, but old Winston put twenty down on ‘by weekend’s end.’”

“There’s a betting—” Kalyna’s voice cracked embarrassingly. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the council meeting where Rust growled.” Lucella swung her legs, heels thumping rhythmically against the table’s wooden side. “Though after last night, odds have shortened considerably.”

Kalyna busied herself with the ancient texts, the familiar task a poor distraction from memories that sent tremors through her body

“Nothing happened at the restaurant,” she lied, even as her fox whined in protest.

“So you didn’t almost kiss him?”

The book in Kalyna’s hands—a priceless first edition on magical bloodline inheritance—slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a dusty thump. Lucella’s gasp of delight told her everything her expression had given away.

“You did! You absolutely did!” Lucella’s hands clasped together beneath her chin. “Was it everything? Did your fox try to take over? Did his eyes go all golden and possessive? Did he make that rumbling sound lions make when they?—”

“We were investigating stolen artifacts and missing funds,” Kalyna interrupted, retrieving the fallen book with as much dignity as she could muster. “It wasn’t exactly the romantic scenario you’re painting.”

“Yet somehow you managed to create enough magical tension that compass needles spun wildly within twenty feet. That’s even more romantic.” Lucella pressed a hand dramatically to her heart.

Kalyna traced the embossed leather binding, unable to stop her mind from replaying the evening—the closeness, the heat of his gaze, the magnetic pull that had drawn them toward each other.

“Nothing actually happened,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction.

“But something was about to develop,” Lucella pointed out, eyes gleaming with triumph.

Kalyna’s cheeks burned hotter. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine, fine.” Lucella mimed zipping her lips, though her eyes still danced with mischief. “But you should know Aurelia ordered three specialty tea blends from Enchanted Brews—traditional lion pride courtship gifts for a potential daughter-in-law.”

Kalyna’s fox surged forward so suddenly, she nearly shifted right there, an unprecedented reaction that left her breathless. Why did the idea of Rust’s mother approving their connection affect her so deeply? She’d always imagined herself with another fox—someone who understood illusory magic, who shared her love of subtlety and misdirection, whose personality complemented her own.

Not someone whose entire being represented the opposite of fox nature—direct rather than subtle, commanding rather than persuasive, physical strength over magical finesse.

Yet her fox recognized something in Rust that transcended these surface differences. Something that called to her on an elemental level she couldn’t rationalize away.

The library door creaked open as the first patrons arrived—a group of teenage wolf shifters working on a school project. Kalyna welcomed the distraction, guiding them toward the reference section while trying to ignore how her fox kept turning her attention toward the door as if expecting—hoping—a certain lion shifter might walk through it at any moment.