Chapter Thirty-Five-Gryn
A few minutes earlier.
Ahhh, the scent of toasted almonds and pumpkin fudge still clung to my whiskers.
Divine. Absolutely divine.
The Bear had done it again.
Tributes were being paid. At last.
Proper meals.
A designated sunbeam for napping.
Even belly rubs when I permitted them.
And my Witch? My Witch was glowing—though she didn’t know it yet.
Still licking her wounds, poor pitiful thing.
But that would change. Oh yes.
Because I had plan.
A glorious, diabolical, brilliant plan!
I scurried into the kitchen and leapt onto the counter with a somersault that would’ve made my Uncle Grizzle proud (he was eaten by a rabid kitchen Gnome in 1432 but had impeccable form).
With a flick of my claws, I rolled out the enchanted parchment I’d borrowed permanently from the Council of Familiars.
It glowed in eerie, shimmering ink as I tapped it dramatically.
“Operation HAG WRATH.”
"Phase One," I said to the room (and to the raccoon watching through the window—I suspected he was a spy), "Identify the Enemy."
A series of tiny sketches danced across the parchment.
Suspicious townsfolk with grumpy faces, uneven haircuts, and a deep, irrational hatred of well-run magical salons. Hmm.
“Phase Two: Misinformation Assault.” I hissed and flicked a drop of honey onto the page.
Instantly, the paper showed hundreds of miniature flyers swirling into flames, screaming like tiny banshees.
Gryn 1, Salon Saboteurs 0.
“Phase Three…” My voice dropped low, dramatic, shaking with vengeance and fondness and—dare I say—love.
“Rebuild. Reclaim. REIGN.”
I stared at Donatella’s name scrawled in golden ink at the top of the page and let out a sigh so heartfelt it startled the raccoon, who fell backward into the trash.
She was mine.
My Witch.
My sacred charge.
And I would not rest until every saboteur in Castor’s Corner was hexed, humbled, and possibly given a bad dye job for the next seven generations.
“They want war?” I snarled, leaping off the counter with a twirl of my tail and landing squarely in a bowl of glitter.
“They’ve got war. And this time, the Familiar bites back.”
Then I was off to get my Witchy moving.