Darius's Pov

Morwen worked in silence for several minutes mixing things in the wooden bowl. The smell was strange and made my nose itch. She muttered words I did not understand and the air in the cottage seemed to get heavier.

Finally she looked up at me. "I can do the spell. But as I said there is a price."

"Name it," I said.

"A vial of your blood and a lock of your mate's hair."

I frowned. "Why my blood?"

"Because you are cursed," she said simply. "I can sense it on you. Dark magic runs through your veins and that kind of power is useful. As for your...