Elven Slave And The Great Witch’s Curse: The

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 .

“Good,” he said. “Now teach me how to make tea that doesn’t taste like swamp water.” the elven slave and the great witch’s curse

Morwen went pale. “Absolutely not.”

“Kaelen,” she repeated. Then she turned to Vane. “I accept your offering. The curse on your son will lift at midnight.” Inside, the tower chamber was no dark lair

She was not what Kaelen expected. No warts. No green skin. She was tall, sharp-boned, with hair the color of tarnished silver and eyes that held two different colors: one amber, one the deep blue of a winter twilight. Her presence pressed against Kaelen’s chest like a second heartbeat. And seated in a chair woven from living willow was

The curse remains.