As they searched, I reached for what knowledge I had about hobs—and came up frustratingly short.
The realization left a sour taste in my mouth. Normally, if I knew what kind of creature I might be facing, I would research it obsessively, searching for weaknesses, patterns, anything that might give me an edge if it came to a fight. Blaise was the one who charged in headfirst and dealt with the consequences later. I was meant to be the careful one.
Something deep in my bones twisted with unease.You’re not acting like yourself.
I bristled at the thought. Of course I wasn’t. I’d just met the love of my life—the one being who could, and already had, begun to loosen my unhealthy fixation on Blaise. That alone was enough to knock anyone off balance.
Forget about him,I told myself.Forget about all of it. You walked into this unprepared—now think.
With deliberate effort, I pushed everything else aside and narrowed my focus, emptying my mind until there was nothing left but the hob.
I focused my energy outward, sending my shadows to comb the undergrowth, sliding along bark and leaf, slipping into hollows and twisted roots, until they brushed against a pocket of magic tucked deep inside a rowan tree.
I pushed through the brush toward it, careful to make just enough noise to announce myself.
The knotted hollow came into view, and with it, a pair of phosphorescent green eyes gleaming from the darkness within.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said, lifting my hands slowly as I drew my shadows back in. They coiled upward around me like an inverse waterfall, pooling obediently into my palms.
The hob’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“I only want to ask,” I continued, keeping my voice calm, “if you would consider returning to the house.”
A high-pitched hum emanated from the hollow, vibrating through the clearing. It climbed in pitch and volume until the bulbous eyes began to roll backward, narrowing into watery slits—and I realized the hob was laughing at me.
I clenched my jaw and waited.
The hum broke into a rasping cackle, and spindly fingers slid from the darkness, curling around the scarred bark. Gray skin, nicked and blistered, showed beneath layers of ingrained dirt. Thick callouses were barely visible under the grime, its yellowed, splintered nails blackened at the tips, forest debris packed beneath them.
The fingers flexed, and slowly, the hob dragged itself free of the hollow, laughter still wheezing from its chest.
Its nose emerged first—long and crooked, scored with tiny cuts as though it had fought its way through brambles. Wiry white brows followed, framing those rolling, luminous eyes.Cracked lips stretched thin around rows of razor-sharp teeth, fresh cackles hissing through them as tears streamed down its hollow cheeks, carving clean tracks through the dirt.
Long, pointed ears snapped back into place as it forced its head through the gap, a battered burlap hat perched precariously atop its skull, wobbling with each breath as though it might topple at any moment.
It twisted its body sideways, fabric tearing as it forced its shoulders through the hollow, then its torso. The knitted sweater it wore hung in tatters around it. What had once been Isadora’s most prized garment had now been claimed by the forest, torn and frayed, caked in dirt, a thick blood-dark thread trailing behind it like a discarded vein.
The creature nearly stumbled as its bare bowlegs emerged, followed by its feet—comically large, red-raw at the heels and blackened with caked forest dirt.
It was the first time I’d seen it up close, and without Isadora’s wards between us, it wasdeeplyunsettling.
It wasn’t the creature’s appearance that set my skin prickling, but the crackle of raw and ancient power rolling off it, and the piercing, almost eager, glint in its eyes.
A deeper unease crept over me as those bulbous eyes dragged slowly over my form. This was no longer the knee-high, almost comical creature in tattered clothes that bounced harmlessly off the wards and vanished back into the undergrowth.
This was something else entirely.
Static snapped in the air around it. Sharp teeth flashed as it shifted its weight.
Only the thought of pleasing Isadora kept me rooted to the spot. Any other time, a creature like this would’ve earned a respectful bow, a murmured apology for disturbing it and the sight of my ass as I high-tailed it out of there.
For Isadora, I thought.
After a low sigh, I said, “Hello. I am Ambrose, and I’ve been...”
Been what?Hired by the witch who took over your house? Fallen madly in love with her? Planning to spend the rest of my days at her side, right after I figure out how to either appease you or get rid of you?
“I live with Isadora now,” I finished, the words sounding thin even to my own ears. “And I was wondering if you might want to come back. And if not... maybe we could find you a new home.”
