Page 65 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed

I was probably never going to see him again.

37

DANNI

I held myself tightly, rocking in place as sobs tore through my chest.

The cold was gone—the nightmarish woods, the monster, the horror—but I couldn’t stop shaking. My cheeks were soaked, my throat raw from crying. I didn’t even realize I was whispering his name over and over until I heard my voice break on a sob.

“Shadow, oh Shadow, please…”

And then, like a flare of light in the darkness, a thought struck me.

What if he’d gone back?

Not gone completely—just returned to where he came from. The place I’d first found him. The place he’d always been, watching and waiting and protecting me.

Under the bed.

The moment the idea hit me, I latched onto it like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver. It didn’t make sense—nothing made sense—but it felt possible. It felt right.

Maybe… just maybe…

I surged to my feet, nearly tripping on the hem of my long sweater. My legs were unsteady, but I didn’t care. I ran—stumbled, really—toward the cottage, the warm lights glowing in the windows like beacons of hope.

“Please be there, please be there,” I whispered, fumbling with the latch.

The front door creaked open…and slammed to a stop.

Something was blocking it.

I felt my way forward, squeezing in through the opening between the door and the jam, and saw boxes—so many boxes.

A mountain of packages, some stacked higher than my head, were teetering against the doorframe. I stared for a second, completely confused.

“What the…?”

There were dozens of them. All shapes and sizes—brown cardboard, cloth sacks, glittering bags tied with velvet ribbon—you name it, it was crammed into my little cottage. The entire entryway had been transformed into a postal disaster zone, like some deranged magical Amazon driver had decided to dump every shipment for the next year right into my living room.

“Is this… from the Wishing Tree?” I gasped, remembering the list I’d read aloud.

Of course it was. Yarn, needles, looms, enchanted thread, crystal buttons, fairy scissors, shelving units, a little café espresso machine—every single thing I’d asked for had been delivered.

And I didn’t give a damn about any of it.

“Later,” I muttered, pushing my way through the chaos.

Boxes tumbled and thumped around me as I elbowed through them, weaving down the hallway.

Only one thing mattered now.

Only he mattered.

“Shadow?” I called, already running down the hallway toward the bedroom. “Shadow, are you here? Please be here.”

I burst through the doorway and skidded to a stop, my heart pounding in my ears.

The room was empty. The bed was made. Nothing was out of place.