My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian
"My grandmother... she wasn't a witch, but she was a hell of an herbalist. She knew the old theories. She used to tell me that dark magic like that—mutilation magic—it needs a physical bind. A connection. It’s like a lead on a dog. You can’t just cast the spell and walk away; the energy has to live somewhere."
I watched her, fascinated despite the horror. "A Totem?"
"Exactly," Yvara said, pointing a finger at me. "The psychology behind it is simple: the caster needs to feel the weight of the spell. It needs to be something they can touch, something they can protect. If the Totem is destroyed or taken, the binder snaps. The face falls off."
Fenris leaned back, his chair creaking. "So we find
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