Magical Acts: (Skeleton Key) by Michele Bardsley, Skeleton Key Page A

cheek.
    She yawned then pushed at his shoulders until he released her. “Goddess, it’s a shame.”
    Auron stared at her. “What do you mean? A shame?”
    She swung her legs off the bed then looked at him over one pale shoulder. “Because you’ll forget me. You’ll marry someone worthy of your heart.”
    “You are worthy of my heart.”
    She shook her head, rising to slip on a robe and to bind her hair. “I know my place. I’m a commoner. You’re the only son of the Barrows Flat mages.”
    She loves me. She doesn’t think I love her. Excited, Auron bounded off the bed. He would prove his love to the beautiful Chamomile. After pulling on his black pants, he dug into the pocket of his tunic, which still lay on the floor. He skirted the bed and took Chamomile’s hand into his. “I love you. Will you marry me?”
    The ring was pure silver and held a large sapphire. The deep blue stone represented the magic wielded by the Tarlett mages. Such gems were rare, and it had taken him some time to find this one. The magic in the stones had to be tamed and then mastered. Crafting the gem was not an easy task. During their courtship, Auron’s father had given his mother a similar ring. To this day, they loved and honored each other. And that was what he wanted for himself and Chamomile—a life of love.
    “You want me to marry you?”
    Auron nodded, and Chamomile smiled. “Do you offer me your heart, Auron?”
    “Yes.”
    The room filled with black smoke. Coughing, he waved away the pungent fumes that reeked of dark magic. Chamomile’s hand slipped from his. When the cloud dissipated, he was facing not Chamomile, but another woman. The years had not been kind to her. Her body was thin and bony. Her blonde hair was streaked with gray, and her face was a mask of bitterness, the lines mapping every disappointment. But it was her eyes that shocked him the most. The green orbs were filled with hatred.
    “You’ve given me your heart,” she said in a gravelly voice.
    The evil glee infused in those words sent Auron’s stomach plummeting to his toes.
    “What have you done to Chamomile?”
    “She doesn’t exist, you silly fool. Twenty-five years! A long time to get revenge. Gave me time to plan, to plot. To cast the right spells. I lost everything, you know. All because of your mother. She took the mage who was once mine.”
    Auron felt horror claw at his belly and crowd his throat. “You hate my parents?”
    “To the depths of my soul. But killing them is impossible. The Goddess granted immortality to the Tarlett mages and their mates. Bah!” She shuffled to the bed and sat down. “You have the same blood, the same protection. Can’t kill you, either, can I? But I can bespell you. And doing so will cause unbearable pain to your parents.”
    She cackled. Her furious triumph was a sword plunged into his belly.
    Auron’s feet felt glued to the floor. He couldn’t move his legs at all. The old woman watched him, her thin lips pulling into a sneer. “Don’t bother trying to leave. The spell is cast. You are cursed, and your heart is mine.”
    His parents appeared in a flash of blue smoke. His father looked the same as he always did, tall, imposing, his long black hair secured by a leather strap. His dark blue gaze flashed with anger. “Relinquish my son.”
    “No.” The old woman’s gaze fell onto the small, brown-haired woman next to Nath Tarlett. “Vile woman! You don’t deserve him. Nor do you deserve the life you stole from me.” Tears rolled off Rin’s cheeks. “You have everything. And I have nothing.”
    “You made your choices,” said Malie. She looked at Auron. “Are you all right?”
    Auron felt completely frozen now. His body wouldn’t move—not even his mouth. He gazed at his mother, panic burbling. Help me! Please!
    “What have you done to him?” demanded Nath. He grasped Auron’s shoulder, but Auron couldn’t feel the warmth or pressure of his Dad’s hand. His gaze found his mother’s.