Page 35 of The Purrfect Rival (Enchanted Falls #1)
THIRTY-FIVE
T he council hall’s curved ceiling soared above the assembly, enchanted skylights filtering morning sun into beams that illuminated the circular chamber. Ancient tapestries depicting the nine founding clans lined the walls, their magical threads still vibrant after centuries: the golden lion, the crimson fox, the silver wolf, the bronze bear, the emerald dragon, the platinum fae, the obsidian tiger, and the midnight vampire.
Rust paused at the eastern archway, surveying the gathering. Conversations hushed as heads turned toward him. He absorbed their reactions: Boz’s narrowed eyes fixating on the fox-patterned tie, Lysander Foxworthy’s thin-lipped displeasure, Jinli’s approving nod from the lion elders’ section.
He strode toward his position with measured steps, his natural authority filling the space. As mayor and alpha, he wore both titles with the ease of someone born to lead. The carved chair at the head of the circle awaited him, its twin directly opposite—where Kalyna would sit.
Rust had just arranged his documents when the western archway filled with her presence. Kalyna entered with quiet grace, copper hair gleaming in the morning light, dressed in a forest-green dress that emphasized the curve of her waist. The sight of her sent a jolt through him more powerful than any magic.
Their eyes connected across the chamber, and the world seemed to pause. A spark—crimson and gold intertwined—flickered in the air between them, a visible manifestation of their connection that other council members couldn’t miss.
Elder Willow, seated near Kalyna, raised a silver eyebrow. The ancient witch’s knowing look shifted between them, missing nothing.
Kalyna’s lips curved into the briefest smile, her eyes warming to a shade closer to ruby than brown. The look sent heat coursing through Rust’s veins. The memory of her taste, the softness of her skin under his hands, the way she’d melted against him during their last embrace—all of it threatened his composure.
Get it together, Leonid. You’re the damn mayor.
He straightened, forcing his attention back to the matter at hand. “This council session is now in session,” he announced, his baritone voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. “Our primary agenda concerns the theft of the Twinned-Tail Charm and the misappropriation of library renovation funds.”
Lysander Foxworthy, seated to Kalyna’s right, leaned forward. The fox elder’s silvered-red hair caught the light, his refined features arranged in a mask of cold politeness.
“Perhaps we should begin with why the mayor’s office failed to prevent either occurrence,” he suggested, his melodious voice carrying a subtle barb. “After all, security is a fundamental responsibility of leadership.”
Before Rust could respond, Kalyna straightened in her seat. “If I may, Elder Lysander,” she interjected, her voice respectful but firm. “Mayor Leonid has held office for less than a month. The security protocols in question were established under the previous administration.”
Surprise rippled through the council at her defense of the lion mayor. Lysander’s eyes narrowed at his skulk member’s unexpected advocacy.
“While I appreciate Archivist Foxworthy’s perspective,” Rust said, stepping to the carved podium centered on the eastern arc, “security failures occurred under my administration’s watch. I acknowledge that responsibility.” His frank admission seemed to capture the council’s attention. “However, our investigation suggests a deliberate, coordinated effort by individuals with inside knowledge of both the library’s security protocols and the mayor’s office authorization codes.”
Fenris Stormclaw, the wolf elder, growled low in his throat. “Someone in your own administration, perhaps?”
Jinli Leonid rose smoothly from her seat among the lion elders, her golden mane of hair threaded with dignified silver framing a face that had presided over countless council sessions.
“Let us remember,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries, “that Mayor Leonid inherited a complex bureaucracy. Some appointments date back decades.” Her pointed gaze swept the chamber. “I suggest we focus on uncovering the culprits rather than assigning premature blame. Or have we abandoned the principle of ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”
Lysander inclined his head slightly, momentarily subdued by Jinli’s intervention.
“That possibility is being investigated,” Rust added evenly, nodding gratefully to both women.
“Mayor Leonid and I have compiled our findings,” Kalyna spoke up, rising from her seat. She approached the center of the circle, placing several folders on the shared table.
Rust watched her move with the fluid grace that reminded him of her fox form. The memory of her transformation—sleek crimson fur, intelligent eyes, twin tails curled elegantly—sent a fresh surge of desire through him. His lion stirred, protective and possessive in equal measure.
“The evidence suggests this wasn’t simply opportunistic theft, but a strategic operation with specific targets,” Kalyna continued, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands.
That tremor awakened every protective instinct he possessed. He would burn down the world to keep her safe—a realization both terrifying and exhilarating.
“The Twinned-Tail Charm wasn’t taken for its monetary value,” Kalyna explained, distributing documents to the elders. “Our research indicates it contains essence-magic capable of amplifying fox illusions to the point where they can affect physical reality.”
Murmurs rippled through the assembly. Rust cataloged the reactions, noting who seemed genuinely surprised versus who merely feigned concern.
“During our warehouse investigation,” Rust added, “we recovered notes detailing methods to transfer fox magic into non-fox vessels. Specifically, lion vessels.”
This revelation provoked stronger reactions. Fenris Stormclaw, the wolf elder, growled low in his throat.
“An abomination,” the wolf declared. “Magic should remain within its natural pack channels.”
“Perhaps,” Rust acknowledged, “but the more pressing concern is who orchestrated these thefts and why.”
Before he could continue, Boz rose from his seat. His light brown hair was immaculately styled, his stance practiced to project concerned authority. Everything about him reeked of calculation.
“While I appreciate the mayor’s diligence,” Boz said, his voice silky with false deference, “I wonder if we might address the more immediate concern.”
“And what might that be?” Rust kept his tone neutral despite his lion’s growing urge to snarl.
Boz swept his gaze around the chamber. “The mayor’s... personal involvement with certain fox skulk members. Can we truly trust the objectivity of someone so clearly compromised by private interests?”
The implication hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. Several elders shifted uncomfortably while others nodded in agreement.