This house…this room…her belief—those were my boundaries.
But belief fades. Childhood ends. Magic dims. And when she left this place, she left me behind.
I had been alone for so long, missing her…longing for her.
Until now.
The keys… I’d arranged for them to find her. I whispered through the Veil, called in every favor I was owed. I knew her husband was dying—I felt it the moment the bond between them frayed and broke. I knew grief would drive her here, to this cottage nestled in the heart of Hidden Hollow. The Veil was thin this time of year. I’d waited years for the days before All Hallows Eve, hoping the timing would align. That fate would be kind.
And it had been.
She was here. In this house. In this bed. Her magic, though dormant, still burned in her blood. And with her presence, I could touch again.
I dared not speak. My voice might frighten her, and I couldn’t bear to see her recoil. But her hand remained in mine, warm and real and impossibly precious. I didn’t deserve it, but I held on.
I wanted to say, “I missed you.”
I wanted to say, “You’re not alone anymore.”
But most of all, I wanted to gather her into my arms and cradle her like I used to. To wrap her in fur and shadow and silence. To whisper promises of safety. To show her the way back to the magic she’d buried and forgotten.
Soon, maybe…if she let me…if she believed.
I waited, still as stone, my hand wrapped around hers.
Waiting to see if she would pull away…or draw closer.
16
DANNI
Was this real? Was I really holding hands with the monster under my bed?
I turned my head on the pillow and looked at the huge, furry hand engulfing my own. The room was dim but I could tell that yes, it was definitely there. And I was awake. My heart fluttered in my chest.
"Hello?" I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "Who…who are you?”
No answer. Only the hush of the wind in the trees outside and the rhythmic tick of Granny’s old mantle clock from the living room. I looked at the hand. It didn’t try to squeeze or claw…it didn’t grab me and drag me down. It just held mine, like an old friend, trying to comfort me.
Again I had the feeling of missing someone I couldn’t quite remember. Someone who had held me once—cradled me in strong, furry arms, his scent warm and comforting in my nose as I drifted to sleep. Someone who had protected me from Duke when he shouted and banged on my door, trying to get in to punish me…
That was when I felt it. The bed shifted…a whisper of movement. Not sudden, not jarring. The motion was gentle…deliberate.
"Danni," a voice murmured. It was deep and low and it rumbled like thunder muffled by fog. "Are you all right?" it asked. No—he asked.
The Shadow Boy.
But he didn’t sound like a boy at all—not even a little. He was all grown up now, just like me.
I tensed at the deep, rumbling voice, but didn’t scream. Somehow, I wasn’t afraid.
The huge, warm hand squeezed mine gently.
"I feel your sorrow, little one,” he rumbled. “Can I hold you as I used to?"
As I used to…more memories came rushing back. The feeling of warm, strong arms around me and the feeling of fur against my cheek. The comforting sound of his heartbeat…but did shadows have hearts? I didn’t know.
I swallowed hard. My chest felt tight, my breath caught in my throat. But still, I nodded.
