Page 38 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed
I blinked. There, neatly arranged, were several skeins of yarn—soft, chunky wool in warm jewel tones. There were also three different sets of knitting needles—bamboo, aluminum, and smooth ivory-colored plastic.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Oh!” I walked over to them, reaching out as if the yarn might vanish if I touched it. I vaguely remembered buying this stuff. About a year after Craig was diagnosed…back when I was still trying to be normal. Before everything had gone to hell and I’d given up knitting entirely to care for him.
The memory hit hard—me standing in a craft store, choosing cheerful colors and textured yarn, thinking maybe I could knit Craig a blanket to keep him warm during his treatments. That project, like so many others, had been swallowed whole by his illness.
“The cottage must have brought it to me,” I murmured.
“What?” Harmony asked, stepping up beside me.
I turned to face them.
“Oh, this cottage—it was my Grandma's, like I told you. And it seems to be taking care of me. I was just wishing I had some of the knitting supplies from my craft room back home and they suddenly appeared. The same way my clothes did earlier.” I paused. “Does that sound crazy?”
Sarah and Harmony exchanged a knowing glance, then laughed.
“Not crazy at all,” Harmony said. “Our friend Willow lives in one of Goody Albright's guest houses and it gives her absolutely anything she wants—she just has to ask for it.”
“My house gives me most of what I want too. Is that how it is for your cottage?” Sarah asked.
I shook my head slowly.
“Not quite. It seems to be able to bring things from my house in the, uh, Human World…”—God, it still felt weird to say that—“And it gives me food—there’s always fresh baked bread, tea, soup…a few other staples. But it can’t grant wishes on command. Like, this morning I asked for eggs, and it didn’t give me any. I think it only gives me what I liked when I was a child.”
Sarah nodded.
“That makes sense. Especially if the cottage is tied to your Grandma and your memories of her when you were little.”
I smiled, brushing my fingers along the soft yarn.
“I'm not complaining—it's wonderful to have my needs met like this. Back home, I'm about to default on my mortgage. I was sure I was going to have to sleep in my car before I found my way here.”
Sarah gave me a sympathetic look.
“It was the same for me. My mom died and then I lost the house and then I lost my job too. I was desperate when I got my invitation to Hidden Hollow.”
Harmony nodded.
“Yeah, I was stuck at a company I hated, and I knew if I left, I'd be drowning in student debt. I'm so happy Hidden Hollow called me home.”
“Is that what you call it? Being 'called home?'” I asked, intrigued.
“Sure,” Harmony said. “It's true, isn't it? I mean, once I came through the door here, I found not just my forever home, but my Heartmate too.”
“I did as well,” Sarah added softly.
“Speaking of Heartmates,” Harmony said, a teasing glint in her eye, “how's that monster under your bed? I mean, you're still here so I guess he didn't eat you up last night.” She winked. “Or did he?”
My cheeks got hot at the memory of Shadow’s fingers buried inside me, his deep voice whispering praise about how good I was to take him so deep and how beautiful I looked when I was coming.
“He, uh, his name is Shadow,” I said, pressing a hand to my hot cheek.
“Oh my God—something happened with him, didn't it?” Harmony asked, grinning.
“Something spicy from the look on her face.” Sarah laughed.
“We…got to know each other,” I admitted. I was embarrassed, but not ashamed. They weren’t mocking me—just teasing a little.
