Celeste's POV
"Don't touch me!"
I slapped Aria's hand away as she tried to help me stand. My whole body shook. The mark on my palm burned like fire.
Six months. Six months before I stopped existing.
"Miss Celeste, please," Aria said gently. "We need to get you inside. The Council—"
"I don't care about the Council!" My voice came out too loud, too hysterical. "I don't care about any of this! I just want to go home!"
"You can't go home." The voice was cold, emotionless.
I spun around. Lucian stood in the shadows, watching us. How long had he been there?
"Why not?" I demanded. "You said the Moon chose me. Well, I un-choose her! I reject this! Send me back!"
"It doesn't work that way."
"Make it work that way!" I was screaming now, tears streaming down my face. "You're a prince, aren't you? You rule this place! So rule it! Send me home!"
Lucian moved closer, and the temperature dropped. "Even if I wanted to send you back—which I don't—I couldn't. The Moon's choice is permanent. The moment her light touched you, you became bound to this realm. Your mortal life is over."
"No." I shook my head frantically. "No, that's not true. I have a life. I have a job. I have—"
"What?" Lucian interrupted. "A family that hates you? A fiancé who stole your work and married your sister? A tiny room in a mansion where you're treated like a servant?"
Each word was a knife in my chest because they were all true.
"At least it was my life," I whispered. "At least I existed."
"And here, you'll exist for six months," Lucian said coldly. "Then the Priestess will take over, and she'll exist for centuries more. One way or another, Celeste Ashford was always going to disappear. The Moon just chose the timing."
I wanted to hit him. To scream. To make him feel even a fraction of the pain tearing through me.
Instead, I asked the question that terrified me most.
"Did you know?" My voice shook. "When you first saw me, did you know I was a reincarnation? Is that why you were so cold? Because you knew I'd disappear?"
Lucian's expression didn't change. "I suspected. The Moon doesn't choose random women. There's always a reason."
"What reason?" I stepped toward him, anger replacing fear. "What's so special about this Priestess that she gets to erase me? What did I do to deserve this?"
"You were born," Lucian said simply. "That's all it took. The Priestess's soul recognized yours as compatible. She's been waiting a thousand years for the right body to inhabit. Congratulations. You won the lottery."
The casual cruelty in his voice made something snap inside me.
"You think this is funny?" I moved closer, forgetting to be scared. "You think my life—my death—is some kind of joke?"
"I think," Lucian said, his silver eyes boring into mine, "that you're wasting time being angry when you should be learning to survive."
"Survive?" I laughed bitterly. "You just told me I have six months before I disappear! How exactly am I supposed to survive that?"
"The same way the last reincarnation tried." Lucian pulled something from his pocket—a small, worn journal. He held it out to me. "By fighting back."
I stared at the journal. "What is that?"
"The diary of Bride 12. She was also a Priestess reincarnation. She lasted four months before the takeover was complete." Lucian's voice softened slightly. "But she learned things. Discovered ways to slow the process. It's all in here."
I took the journal with shaking hands. The cover was soft leather, worn from use. Inside, the pages were filled with desperate handwriting.
Day 1: The mark appeared today. They say I have six months. I refuse to accept this.
Day 15: Every time I use the power, I lose pieces of myself. Memories fade. My favorite color, my mother's face, the song I sang as a child—gone.
Day 30: I can feel her inside me. The Priestess. She's impatient. Hungry. She wants my body. My life.
Day 45: I found something. A ritual in the forbidden library. It might work. It might give me more time.
The entries stopped there. Day 45. Then nothing.
"What happened to her?" I asked, my throat tight.
"The ritual failed," Lucian said quietly. "The Priestess took over that night. Bride 12 screamed for three hours as her consciousness was erased. By morning, only the Priestess remained."
I felt sick. "And you just... watched?"
"I did what I always do." Lucian took the journal back. "I trained her. Prepared her. And when the time came, I said goodbye to the mortal girl and welcomed the Priestess."
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"Yes," he agreed without hesitation. "I am. But I'm the monster who's going to keep you alive for the next six months. So you can hate me all you want—after you learn to control your power."
"I don't want to control it!" I shouted. "I don't want any of this!"
"Too bad." Lucian grabbed my wrist—the one with the mark—and pulled me toward the palace. "The Council is waiting. If you don't present yourself properly, they'll vote to accelerate the transformation. Instead of six months, you'll have six days."
I froze. "They can do that?"
"They can do whatever they want. You're not a person here, Celeste. You're a vessel. A container for something more important." His grip tightened. "Now move. And try not to embarrass yourself more than necessary."
Aria hurried ahead, opening massive crystal doors. Inside, the palace was even more impossible than outside. Everything glowed. The walls seemed to breathe. And everywhere I looked, people—immortals—stopped and stared at me.
At the mark on my hand.
"Is that her?" someone whispered.
"The Priestess reincarnation?"
"She looks so weak."
"She won't last a month."
Their words followed us through endless hallways. Each one made me feel smaller. More worthless.
Finally, we stopped in front of golden doors that reached toward a ceiling I couldn't see.
"The Council chamber," Lucian said. "Inside are the twelve elders who govern the Lunar Court. They'll ask you questions. You'll answer respectfully. You'll bow when told. And you'll accept whatever judgment they pass."
"And if I don't?" I asked defiantly.
"Then they'll accelerate the transformation tonight, and by morning, you won't exist to regret it." He moved closer, his voice dropping. "I know you're scared. I know this is unfair. But if you want to survive—if you want even the chance to fight this—you'll do exactly as I say."
For the first time, I heard something other than coldness in his voice. Not quite kindness. But not cruelty either.
Almost like he cared whether I lived or died.
"Why?" I asked. "Why do you care if I survive or not? You said I'm just a vessel."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "Because I'm tired of watching mortal girls die. And because..." He hesitated, then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Just survive the next hour. That's all you need to focus on."
The golden doors opened.
Inside, twelve figures sat on thrones that seemed carved from moonlight itself. Their faces were hidden by hoods, but I could feel their power pressing against me like a physical weight.
"Bring forth the bride," a voice commanded. Ancient. Powerful. Terrifying.
Lucian pushed me forward gently. I stumbled into the chamber, my legs barely holding me up.
The twelve figures leaned forward, studying me.
"She bears the Mark," one said.
"The Priestess has chosen her vessel," another confirmed.
"How long?" a third asked.
"Six months," Lucian answered from behind me. "Perhaps less."
"Unacceptable." The center figure stood, and I finally saw his face. Ancient. Cruel. Eyes like black holes. "We cannot wait six months. The barrier weakens daily. We need the Priestess now."
My heart stopped. "What does that mean?"
"It means," the figure said, moving closer, "that we're going to accelerate the transformation. By tomorrow morning, the Priestess will have full control."
"No!" I backed away. "You can't! Lucian, tell them they can't!"
But Lucian said nothing. His face was blank. Emotionless.
He wasn't going to help me.
Nobody was going to help me.
"Please," I begged the Council. "Please, I'll do anything. Just give me time. Give me the six months. I'll train. I'll learn. I'll be useful, I promise!"
The center figure laughed. "You? Useful? You're a mortal. Weak. Worthless. The only value you have is the soul sleeping inside you."
He raised his hand, and pain exploded through my body. The mark on my palm burned like someone had pressed hot iron against it. I screamed, falling to my knees.
"Stop!" A voice cut through my agony. Female. Powerful. "Stop this at once!"
The pain vanished. I collapsed, gasping.
Through my tears, I saw someone new enter the chamber. A woman in silver robes, her face hidden by a veil. But her voice—it commanded instant obedience.
"Who dares interrupt the Council?" the center figure demanded.
"I dare." The woman moved forward, and even the Council members leaned back. "Because you're about to make a catastrophic mistake."
"The girl is worthless," the figure argued. "We need the Priestess—"
"The girl IS the Priestess," the woman interrupted. "They're one soul, split across time. If you force the transformation now, you'll destroy them both. The Priestess will wake broken, incomplete, useless."
Silence filled the chamber.
"Impossible," someone whispered.
"Test it yourself," the woman said calmly. She turned to me. "Girl. Stand."
I forced myself up, my whole body shaking.
The woman pulled back her veil.
I stopped breathing.
She had my face.
Older. Wiser. Powerful beyond imagination.
But my face.
"Hello, Celeste," she said softly. "I've been waiting a very long time to meet you."
"Who are you?" I whispered.
She smiled. Sad. Beautiful. Terrifying.
"I'm you. Or rather, I'm who you were a thousand years ago." She reached out and touched my cheek. "I'm the Moon Priestess. The original."
My mind couldn't process this. "But... but you're supposed to be sleeping inside me. You're supposed to take over my body."
"Is that what they told you?" She glanced at Lucian, disappointed. "No, child. I'm not here to erase you. I'm here to merge with you. To make us whole again."
"What's the difference?"
"The difference," she said, her silver eyes identical to Lucian's, "is that when we merge, you won't disappear. We'll become something new. Something neither of us has been before."
Hope fluttered in my chest. "So I'll still exist? I'll still be me?"
"Yes and no." The Priestess knelt before me. "You'll be you, but more. Stronger. Wiser. Complete. The girl you are now will evolve into something greater."
"And if I refuse?"
Her expression hardened. "Then they'll force the transformation, and both of us will die. Is that what you want?"
I looked at Lucian. He stood frozen, staring at the Priestess with an expression I couldn't read. Shock? Fear? Recognition?
"You knew," I said to him. "You knew she was coming."
"No," he breathed. "This is impossible. She shouldn't be able to manifest yet. Not until—"
"Until the vessel was ready," the Priestess finished. "But Celeste is special. Stronger than previous reincarnations. She called to me, and I answered."
She turned back to me. "So what will it be, Celeste? Will you fight this merger and destroy us both? Or will you trust me and become who you were always meant to be?"
I looked at my hand. The mark glowed brighter now, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.
"If we merge," I asked carefully, "will I remember my life? My mother? The books I loved? The pain I've felt?"
"Every moment," the Priestess promised. "Your memories will become our memories. Your pain will make us stronger."
"And my death?" I whispered. "Will I remember dying?"
The Priestess's expression turned infinitely sad. "You've been dying your whole life, child. This is your chance to finally live."
She held out her hand.
I stared at it. This was it. The moment that would decide everything.
Trust her and become something new.
Refuse and die.
I reached out—
And the doors exploded inward.
Darkness poured into the chamber like liquid shadow. The Council members screamed. Lucian drew a sword from nowhere, moving to protect me.
And through the darkness came a voice I knew.
A voice that shouldn't have been here.
A voice that made my blood freeze.
"Sorry I'm late to the party," Seraphina said, stepping through the shadows with a smile that promised murder. "But I couldn't let my dear sister have all the fun."
Her eyes glowed red.
Her hands dripped with dark magic.
And behind her, an army of shadow creatures waited.
"Now then," Seraphina purred, looking directly at me. "Let's talk about how you stole MY destiny. And how I'm going to take it back—even if I have to rip it from your corpse."