She tilted Kaelen’s chin up with one finger. “What is your name, slave?”
“I’m not offering to die for you,” Kaelen said. “I’m offering to share it. Elven blood is long. I have centuries left. You take my hand, I take your curse. We split it in half. You keep your heart. I keep my magic. Neither of us is free—but neither of us is alone.” the elven slave and the great witch’s curse
“Teach me,” he said. “Teach me the spell that made the curse. If I know how it was woven, maybe I can unweave it.” She tilted Kaelen’s chin up with one finger
Inside, the tower chamber was no dark lair. It smelled of rosemary and rain. Bookshelves climbed to a ceiling painted with stars that moved. And seated in a chair woven from living willow was . Elven blood is long