Page 66 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed
I didn’t see him anywhere but even worse, I didn’t feel him—his warm, solid presence was nowhere to be found.
“No,” I whispered, my eyes already beginning to sting again.
I dropped to my knees and flung back the quilt, my hands trembling as I bent low, pressing my cheek to the floor and peering underneath.
“Shadow?” My voice cracked. “Are you there? Please—just say something. Show me your eyes, your claws—anything.”
But there was nothing—just dust bunnies and silence.
No glowing gold eyes. No massive dark shape with horns and velvet fur and that deep, soothing voice that made me feel so safe.
“Shadow!” I cried again, louder this time.
Still, there was no answer.
I shoved myself farther under the bed, ignoring the way my elbow scraped the wood floor, the way my knees ached from this angle. I called for him until my throat hurt.
But he wasn’t there…and he never would be again.
The truth hit me like a punch to the gut.
He was gone.
Gone—because he’d saved me. Gone because he’d loved me.
Gone because I hadn’t been strong enough to save him back.
Why hadn’t I tried some kind of magic? I didn’t know—I wasn’t even sure what I could have tried but the idea that it hadn’t even occurred to me to do anything but run, tore at my heart. What use was I as a witch if I couldn’t even save the one I loved?
A terrible, broken sound wrenched out of my chest and I collapsed fully onto the floor, curled halfway under the bed, sobbing so hard I thought my lungs might burst.
The monster under my bed—the one who had watched over me, protected me, and loved me was gone.
And I didn’t know how to live without him.
38
DANNI
The next morning dawned bright and cold—the kind of autumn day that would normally make me feel like the world was full of magic and promise.
But today, all I could see was gray.
Outside my windows, Hidden Hollow had transformed overnight. Shops and houses were draped in shimmering magical lights—flickering pumpkins and glowing ghosts that bobbed gently in the air like fireflies.
Across the street, The General store was wrapped in garlands of crimson and gold leaves that sparkled faintly, each one inscribed with a blessing or a charm. The Lost Lamb Bakery had conjured a parade of tiny sugar golems that marched in step along their windowsill, hoisting candy corn pennants and singing in piping voices.
Above Kreeches Emporium in a scene that reminded me of the old Disney movie, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, a spectral parade of antique costumes floated through the air. Victorian capes, flapper dresses, and pirate boots danced in a line as enchanted candelabras floated above the sidewalk, dripping wax that vanished before it could hit the ground.
Clearly the town was dressed for Halloween—or All Hallow’s Eve, as they called it here. It was festive…joyful…whimsical.
It made me want to scream.
I hadn’t slept at all. I’d spent the entire night crying—curled up on the floor beside my bed, then in the bed, then under it again, hoping against hope that Shadow would reappear. But he never did.
My eyes were swollen slits, my head ached, my hair looked like something a bird might try to nest in, and I hadn’t even bothered to look in a single one of the boxes crowding my living room. The things I’d asked for—the things I thought would help me start a new life—were all useless now.
What was the point of any of it, if Shadow was gone?
