Page 17 of Jasmine's Enchanted Genie

She scowled. “Hide. I’m a commoner, not royalty. Only three of us received special invitations. If he finds you here, he might kick me out, and then I won’t get to meet the healer.” Panic lifted her voice. “Please!”

“Miss Bains?” the male called out. “Are you all right?”

“Hide!”

I huffed, not interested in sliding beneath the bed. I was a genie, not a dust mop.

“You can either slide under the bed or return to your bottle,” she said.

“If I go back inside my bottle, I’m not allowed to return to you until you’re ready to use your first wish.”

She bit down on her lower lip. “I was going to tell you that I also wanted to spend time with you.”

My heart tripped over itself. She wanted to be with me? I shouldn’t feel like leaping around the room like a gazelle, but I did. “I have a plan.” A pop, and I turned into a big fluffy black cat.

She gaped at me. “Boshun?”

“Meow.”

Her laughter bubbled out, though it cut off when the male banged on the door once more.

“Please, Miss. Are you in distress?” he asked.

I jumped up onto the bed and stretched out, savoring Jasmine’s scent still lingering on the blankets.

With a shake of her head, she rushed to the door, pausing to smooth her gown and plaster a neutral expression on her face before opening it. She cracked it open enough to peer through. “Yes?”

Viscar nudged his way inside, and when the panel inadvertently hit her side, I rose to my paws, fluffed the hair along my spine, and hissed.

“What is that?” the impertinent male who needed to die for causing her even the slightest bit of pain pointed at me.

I leaped off the bed and stalked toward him, my fur lifted, my tail spiking high. My claws scratched the wooden floorboards.

He had the good sense to back into the open doorway. “There are no cats inside the castle.”

“Obviously, you’re mistaken,” Jasmine said with a wince. “This lovely kitty came to my room last night and scratched on the door. I let him in, and he slept on the chair, purring all night long.” She walked over to stand beside me. “Isn’t he the sweetest thing?”

I rubbed her legs and snarled at him.

“Well,” Viscar said, his face pinkening, “I do apologize, but you should make it leave.”

“You’re welcome to remove him from the room if that’s what you want but take care with his very long claws.”

I hissed as he approached me, and when he was within swiping distance, I latched onto his pants with my front claws and snarled.

With a yelp, he backed away, his hands lifting.

I let him go, but not before he got a taste of my irritation on his shin.

He hobbled out into the hall where he lifted his pants legs and winced. “It . . . It hurt me.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Jasmine said in a rush, and I could tell she really was sad it happened, which made me grumble. She shot me a glare. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause harm.”

Viscar frowned. “Where did you go last evening? I looked for you, intending to escort you to your room, but you were no longer in the ballroom. You also didn’t squeeze your golden ball.”

“I ate something at the buffet that disagreed with my tummy and when I looked for you, I couldn’t find you. I, um, forgot about the ball. I made my way to my room on my own.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” Viscar bowed a few times. “I wish you’d reached out. I would’ve sent a healer to your room immediately.”

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