Page 72 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed

A presence—warm…familiar…male. Comforting and fierce. Protective and wild. It brushed against me like a breath of wind in a closed room and I smelled his scent—cinnamon and cedar and fur.

I looked around.

He’s here. He must be!

The swirling mist within the doorway pulsed—once, twice—and then parted like stage curtains.

Suddenly, he was there.

One moment the doorway was empty, and the next, it was filled with eight feet of blue fur, golden eyes, and spreading black horns.

“Shadow?” I whispered.

His head snapped toward me.

“Danni? My little witch?”

A sob broke from my chest. I threw myself forward and grabbed his arm, tugging him through the threshold and into the night. As soon as he crossed the boundary, I kicked the door shut behind him with a resounding thud. Goody Albright had warned me—Never leave a door to another realm open.

Then I turned and threw myself into his arms.

Or tried to.

My arms sank right through his chest.

I froze, shocked, and pulled back.

“No…” I whispered. “You’re not solid.”

He looked down at his hands, flexing his claws.

“Not fully,” he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. “The doorway brought me back, but I’m not whole yet.”

“Because you haven’t made him solid yet,” Goody Albright said from behind us. “Quickly, Danni—take him home with you. You know what to do.”

I looked up at Shadow, my heart thudding.

I did know what to do.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing his massive, spectral hand. “Let’s get back to the cottage.”

I wasn’t sure how long I had or how much magic was left in the night. But I knew one thing for sure?—

I was getting my monster under the bed back. And this time, I wasn’t letting him go.

41

DANNI

I barely got the door to the cottage closed behind us before I turned to him, my breath catching in my throat.

Shadow—he was here and alive. Well, almost.

He stood in the dim entryway, tall and massive with his inky blue fur still shimmering faintly with the last of the moonlight. But his outline wavered just a little, like heat rising off a summer road. And when I reached to touch him, my hand sank just slightly through his chest before meeting resistance.

“You’re still not solid,” I whispered, panic trying to rise again.

“I came when you called,” he murmured, his deep voice low and rough. “But I am not fully in your world yet. Not until you bind me to it… and to you.”