"I'll need to see your credentials," Leo said, positioning himself between the woman and the stairs leading to the library.
"Of course," the woman replied, reaching into her briefcase with movements that seemed perfectly normal until Leo's enhanced vision caught the subtle wrongness in her anatomy. Her fingers were too long, her joints bent at angles that suggested something inhuman wearing a human disguise.
His lion exploded to the surface before conscious thought could intervene.
The partial shift happened in seconds—bones elongating, muscles expanding, senses sharpening to supernatural acuity. Leo's human consciousness remained in control, but his body took on enough lion characteristics to make his true nature unmistakable. Claws extended from fingers that had become decidedly non-human, and his voice dropped to a growl that made windows rattle.
"What are you?" he demanded, his enhanced senses now clearly detecting the wrongness beneath the woman's disguise.
The fake Dr. Morwyn's elegant mask slipped, revealing something that definitely wasn't fae nobility. Her features began to shift and blur, as if her human appearance was dissolving to reveal something much less pleasant underneath.
"Clever lion," she hissed, her voice taking on harmonics that hurt to hear. "But not clever enough to prevent what's already in motion."
The thing that had been pretending to be Dr. Morwyn dissolved into shadow and mist, disappearing through the inn's walls with laughter that sounded like breaking glass. Leo stood in the parlor, partially shifted and breathing hard, while Lyra stared at him with wide eyes.
"Well," Lyra said finally, "I guess we know somebody's definitely targeting your research partner."
Leo forced his lion back down, his human form reasserting itself though his hands still trembled with adrenaline and protective fury. Whatever had been impersonating Dr. Morwyn represented a direct threat to Aerin, and the implications of such focused attention made his possessive instincts roar with the need to ensure her safety.
"Get Cade," he said, his voice still carrying traces of his lion's rumble. "We need to establish better security protocols immediately. And call the council—they need to know we're dealing with something that can perfectly mimic trusted individuals."
As he headed back toward the library where Aerin was waiting, Leo couldn't erase the thought that their enemies had just escalated from subtle manipulation to open warfare. The sigil's activation triggered responses from forces that preferred to work in shadows, and their research had just become significantly more dangerous.
But it had also become significantly more urgent. If entities were willing to risk exposure by impersonating dead researchers, it suggested they were running out of time to complete whatever they'd been planning for decades.
The question was whether he and Aerin could figure out how to make use of the betrayal sigil's cleansing protocols beforetheir enemies decided that direct elimination was preferable to continued manipulation.
EIGHT
AERIN
The Mistwhisper Falls Harvest Festival transformed the town square into something that looked like a fairy tale come to life, if fairy tales included protection wards disguised as decorative bunting and blessing ceremonies that actually worked. It had been close to two weeks since her arrival in the town. Aerin moved through the crowded celebration with the careful attention of someone conducting fieldwork, her notebook discretely recording conversations with elderly residents who carried oral histories passed down through generations of founder families.
Leo maintained his protective vigilance from a distance that allowed him to monitor threats while giving Aerin space to work, though his lion was making that increasingly difficult. Every time another male engaged Aerin in conversation—whether human, shifter, or fae—his animal half responded with possessive instincts that required conscious effort to suppress. The festival's cheerful chaos provided perfect cover for surveillance, but it also created dozens of potential threats that kept his enhanced senses on constant alert.
"Mrs. Hartwell," Aerin was saying to the elderly lawyer who'd handled her inheritance paperwork, "your family has been inMistwhisper Falls since the beginning. Have you heard any stories about a fourth founder? Someone who might have been written out of the official records?"
Margaret Hartwell paused in her examination of hand-carved wooden charms, her sharp eyes studying Aerin with the assessment of someone who recognize significant questions. "There are always stories, dear. Though some stories are told less often than others, if you understand my meaning."
"I understand completely," Aerin replied, accepting a cup of mulled cider from a passing vendor while maintaining the casual tone of someone making polite conversation. "Sometimes the most interesting stories are the ones families prefer to keep private."
"Exactly. Though I will say that my great-grandmother used to mention a woman named Mordaine who had a falling out with the other founders over 'matters of the heart and magic.'" Margaret's voice dropped to the confidential tone used for sharing gossip that might be more than rumor. "The story goes that she tried to change the founding binding after it was completed, and the others had to exile her to prevent her from compromising their work."
Aerin made careful notes while maintaining an expression of academic interest rather than personal urgency. "Do you know what kind of changes she wanted to make?"
"Something about protection versus containment, according to the family stories. Mordaine supposedly argued that just locking something away wasn't a permanent solution, that they needed safeguards against the binding being corrupted from within." Margaret selected a charm carved with symbols that made Aerin's fae heritage tingle with recognition. "Of course, given what happened to her lover, she might have had personal motivations for wanting to change the magical arrangements."
"What happened to her lover?"
"Kieran Maddox," Margaret said, and Aerin felt her breath catch at the familiar surname. "Lion shifter, from what the stories say. Mordaine's magical experiments supposedly drove him mad with visions and phantom pain. He died screaming about betrayal and corruption, claiming she'd poisoned their bond to save them both."
Leo appeared at Aerin's elbow with the silent approach that marked him as predator, his enhanced hearing having apparently caught enough of the conversation to trigger protective concern. "Mrs. Hartwell, that's an interesting family history. I don't suppose there are any written records of these stories?"
"Captain Maddox," Margaret said with the warm familiarity of someone who'd known Leo since childhood. "I should have guessed you'd be interested, given your family connection to the tale. And no, dear, the written records were deliberately destroyed generations ago. Too dangerous to leave evidence of magical workings lying around where the wrong people might find them."
"Family connection?" Aerin asked, though she was beginning to suspect she already knew the answer.
"Kieran Maddox was Leo's great-great-grandfather, or some such distant relation," Margaret explained cheerfully. "The family resemblance is quite remarkable, actually. Same golden eyes, same protective instincts, same tendency to brood when they're worried about something."
