Celeste's POV
I couldn't breathe.
The silver light wrapped around me like chains, lifting me higher and higher. Below, the ballroom erupted into chaos. People screamed. Someone threw a glass that shattered against the floor.
"PUT HER DOWN!" Seraphina shrieked, her voice cutting through everything else. "THE MOON MADE A MISTAKE!"
But the light didn't stop. It pulled me up through the open ceiling, into the night sky. The cold air hit my face. My heart hammered so hard I thought it would explode.
This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real.
I was Celeste Ashford. Nobody. The invisible girl. The illegitimate daughter who scrubbed floors and served drinks and apologized for existing.
The Moon didn't choose girls like me.
"Help!" I screamed, reaching back toward the mansion. "Please, somebody help me!"
Nobody moved. They just stood there, hundreds of faces staring up at me. My father's expression was blank. Helena looked horrified. Marcus had his arm around Seraphina, who was sobbing dramatically.
Not one person tried to save me.
Not one.
The light pulled me higher. The mansion got smaller. The city lights spread out below like fallen stars. Higher. Higher. Until I couldn't see anything but silver light and darkness.
Then everything changed.
The air turned thick and warm. The light shifted from silver to gold to colors I didn't have names for. My body felt strange—lighter, stronger, like I was becoming something else.
"What's happening to me?" I whispered.
Nobody answered.
The light finally released me.
I fell.
My scream tore through the air as I plummeted toward—what? I couldn't see anything. Just endless darkness rushing up to meet me.
I was going to die. After everything, after all the pain and loneliness and hurt, I was going to die falling through nothing.
At least it would be quick.
At least it would be over.
Strong arms caught me mid-fall.
The impact knocked the air from my lungs. I grabbed onto whoever—whatever—had caught me, my fingers digging into fabric that felt like liquid silk.
"Breathe," a voice said. Deep. Cold. Male. "You're not going to die. Not yet."
I forced my eyes open.
Silver eyes stared back at me. Beautiful and terrifying and completely inhuman. The man holding me had white hair that seemed to glow in the darkness. His face was perfect—too perfect, like a statue carved by someone who'd never seen a real person.
He wasn't human.
"What are you?" I gasped.
"Your new nightmare," he said flatly. Then he dropped me.
I hit solid ground hard, all the air leaving my lungs in a painful whoosh. I lay there, gasping like a fish, staring up at a sky that had three moons instead of one.
Three. Moons.
"Get up," the man said.
I couldn't move. My whole body hurt. My mind couldn't process what I was seeing. Three moons. Impossible.
"I said, get up." His voice was colder now. Impatient.
"I can't," I wheezed. "I can't breathe."
He sighed like I was inconveniencing him. Then he crouched beside me, and I got my first real look at him.
He wore black clothes that looked expensive. His skin was pale—too pale, like he'd never seen sunlight. But it was his eyes that terrified me most. Silver, glowing, ancient. Eyes that had seen too much and felt too little.
"Listen carefully," he said, his voice quiet and deadly. "You are in the Lunar Court now. The immortal realm. You were chosen by the Moon to be the Moonlight Bride. That means you belong to us now. To me. Do you understand?"
"No," I whispered. "No, I want to go home."
Something flickered across his face. Almost like pity. "There is no going home. The Moon's choice is final. You're ours until you die."
Until I die.
The words hit me like a punch. "How long do I have?"
"The last bride lasted three years," he said, standing up. "You don't look nearly as strong as she was. I give you two. Maybe less."
Two years. Two years to live.
Panic clawed at my throat. "No. No, you have to send me back. I don't want this. I didn't ask for this!"
"Nobody asks for it," he said, turning away. "But here you are anyway."
"Wait!" I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain. "Who are you? What is this place? Why me?"
He looked back at me, and for the first time, I saw something other than coldness in his expression. Curiosity. Like I was a puzzle he hadn't figured out yet.
"My name is Prince Lucian Nightveil. I am the ruler of this court and your trainer. As for why the Moon chose you..." He tilted his head, studying me. "That's the question, isn't it? You're weak. Powerless. Ordinary. By all logic, you shouldn't have been chosen."
Each word was a knife. Weak. Powerless. Ordinary.
Just like Marcus had said. Just like my family always said.
"Then why?" My voice broke. "Why did the Moon choose me if I'm so worthless?"
Lucian stepped closer, and I felt cold radiating from him like he was made of ice. "Perhaps she made a mistake. Or perhaps..." He reached out and touched my cheek with one finger.
Pain exploded through my head.
Images flashed behind my eyes—silver light, ancient temples, a woman with my face but different, older, powerful. She was fighting someone. Crying. Screaming words I couldn't understand.
Then she turned and looked directly at me.
"Remember," she whispered. "Remember who you are."
The vision vanished.
I stumbled backward, clutching my head. "What was that? What did you do to me?"
Lucian's expression had changed completely. The coldness was gone, replaced by something that looked almost like... fear?
"Impossible," he breathed. "You can't be—"
A door burst open behind him. A girl ran out—young, pretty, with warm brown skin and panic in her eyes.
"Your Highness! The Council is demanding to see the new bride immediately. They're saying—" She stopped when she saw me. Her eyes went wide. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no."
"What?" I asked, my voice shaking. "What's wrong?"
The girl looked at Lucian. "She has the Mark. Look at her hand."
I looked down at my right hand. There, glowing faintly on my palm, was a symbol I'd never seen before. A crescent moon with a star inside it.
It hadn't been there before.
"What is this?" I demanded, showing them my hand. "What's happening to me?"
Lucian grabbed my wrist, staring at the mark. His grip was ice-cold and painfully tight. "This changes everything," he said quietly. Too quietly.
"What does it change?" My voice rose. "Tell me!"
He let go of my wrist and stepped back. When he looked at me again, his expression was carefully blank.
"The Mark of the Priestess," he said. "It means you're not just a bride. You're a reincarnation. The Moon Priestess from a thousand years ago has chosen to return." He paused. "Through you."
The girl gasped. "But that means—"
"It means she's dangerous," Lucian interrupted, his eyes never leaving mine. "More dangerous than any bride we've ever had."
"Dangerous?" I laughed, but it came out hysterical. "I'm not dangerous. I'm a librarian. I catalog books. I don't even know how to fight!"
"You don't know how to fight yet," Lucian corrected. "But the Priestess does. She's sleeping inside you, waiting to wake up. And when she does..." He moved closer, his face inches from mine. "When she wakes up, Celeste Ashford will cease to exist. The Priestess will take over your body, your mind, your soul. You'll disappear completely."
The words didn't make sense. None of this made sense.
"How long?" I whispered. "How long do I have before I... disappear?"
Lucian's silver eyes held no comfort. No kindness. Just cold, hard truth.
"Every time you use your power, she gets stronger. Every time you channel the Moon's magic, she takes more of you. The last Priestess reincarnation lasted six months before the original consciousness consumed her completely."
Six months.
Not two years. Six months.
And then I wouldn't exist anymore. Someone else would be living in my body, thinking with my brain, wearing my face.
I would be erased.
"No," I breathed. "No, there has to be another way. There has to be—"
"There isn't." Lucian turned toward the door. "Aria, take her to her chambers. Get her cleaned up. The Council will want to see her within the hour."
"Yes, Your Highness," the girl—Aria—said quietly.
Lucian started walking away.
"Wait!" I called after him. "You said you were my trainer. Does that mean you can help me? Can you teach me to fight this? To stay myself?"
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"I can teach you to survive for six months," he said. "After that, you'll be someone else's problem."
"But—"
"Welcome to the Lunar Court, Celeste Ashford." His voice echoed in the darkness. "Try not to disappear too quickly. I hate training new brides."
Then he was gone, leaving me standing there with a glowing mark on my hand and a death sentence hanging over my head.
Six months until I stopped being me.
Six months until someone else took over my body.
I looked at Aria, who was watching me with sad, pitying eyes.
"Is it true?" I asked. "Will I really disappear?"
She hesitated. Then nodded.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the ground, staring at the mark on my palm. The crescent moon with its star mocked me, glowing brighter with each second.
I'd spent my whole life being invisible.
Being nobody.
Wishing I mattered.
And now, just when the Moon had finally chosen me, just when I finally mattered—
I was going to disappear for real.
Forever.
The cruel irony made me laugh. A broken, bitter sound that scared even me.
Aria knelt beside me, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you inside. You need to rest."
"Rest?" I looked at her with tears streaming down my face. "I have six months to live. Six months before I stop existing. How am I supposed to rest?"
She didn't have an answer.
Nobody did.
As Aria helped me to my feet and led me toward the crystal palace, I looked back at the three moons hanging in the impossible sky.
"Why?" I whispered to them. "Why choose me if you were just going to erase me?"
The moons didn't answer.
But somewhere in the palace behind me, I heard a sound.
Laughter.
Cold. Ancient. Familiar.
Prince Lucian was laughing.
And somehow, I knew:
He wasn't just my trainer.
He was counting down the days until I disappeared.
Because he'd done this before.
And he'd do it again.