Celeste's POV
I didn't sleep after the ghost vanished.
How could I? Twelve dead women were trapped somewhere, being used as weapons against me. And the blood on my floor—real, wet, impossible blood—wouldn't disappear no matter how hard I scrubbed.
By dawn, my hands were raw and shaking.
"Miss Celeste?" Aria knocked softly. "Prince Lucian is waiting in the training courtyard. He says if you're not there in five minutes, he's coming to get you."
Of course he was.
I looked at my marked palm. It pulsed with power I didn't understand. Power that had exploded out of me yesterday when Seraphina attacked. Power that felt alive.
Trust no one, Bride 12 had written.
Did that include Lucian?
"Tell him I'm coming," I called to Aria.
I had to know if he was lying. If he knew the brides were trapped. If he was working with the Dark God.
If the man I'd loved a thousand years ago had become something unredeemable.
The training courtyard was empty except for Lucian.
He stood in the center, arms crossed, his silver eyes tracking my every movement as I approached. His sword hung at his hip, gleaming in the three moons' light.
"You look terrible," he said flatly.
"A ghost visited me last night," I shot back. "One of the brides you killed. She told me something very interesting."
Lucian's expression didn't change. "Which bride?"
"Number twelve." I stopped a few feet away from him, hands clenched at my sides. "She said the brides aren't dead. They're trapped. And the Dark God is going to use their souls against me."
For a long moment, Lucian said nothing. Then: "She's right."
My blood ran cold. "You knew?"
"Yes."
"You KNEW they were trapped?" My voice rose. "You knew they were suffering somewhere, and you didn't tell me?"
"What would you have done if I had?" Lucian's voice was calm. Too calm. "Tried to save them? Wasted time and energy on ghosts when you need to focus on staying alive?"
"They're not just ghosts! They're people!" I moved closer, fury overtaking fear. "Twelve women you murdered, and now they're being tortured for eternity because of you!"
"Because of the Dark God," Lucian corrected coldly. "I killed them. He trapped them. There's a difference."
"Is there?" I was shouting now. "You knew this would happen! You must have known!"
"I suspected," he admitted. "But by the time I confirmed it, it was too late. The Dark God had already bound their souls. There's nothing I can do to free them."
"Nothing you can do? Or nothing you're willing to do?"
Lucian's jaw tightened. "We're not discussing this further. We're here to train, not debate my past sins."
"Your sins affect my present!" I stepped right up to him. "Those twelve souls are weapons aimed at me. Don't I deserve to know how to fight them?"
"You can't fight them." His silver eyes bored into mine. "They're already dead. The only thing you can do is become strong enough that when the Dark God uses them, you survive."
"How comforting," I said bitterly.
"I'm not here to comfort you," Lucian replied. "I'm here to train you. So either start learning, or go back to your room and wait for Seraphina to rip your heart out."
I wanted to hit him. To scream. To make him feel even a fraction of the rage burning through me.
Instead, I took a deep breath and stepped back. "Fine. Train me."
"Feel the moonlight," he said immediately.
I stared at him. "What?"
"Feel the moonlight. It's all around you. In the air. In the ground. In your blood." He gestured to the three moons above. "Connect with it."
"I don't know how to—"
"Figure it out."
I wanted to strangle him. "That's not training! That's just saying words!"
"Then prove me wrong," Lucian said. "Show me you're more than just a vessel. Show me the power that chose you."
His words hit like a slap. More than just a vessel. Just like Marcus had said I was more than just a research assistant. Just like my family had said I was more than just an embarrassment.
Everyone always expected me to be more while giving me nothing to work with.
"I don't know how!" I shouted. "I don't know how to feel moonlight or connect with power or any of this! I'm just—"
—a librarian who catalogs books and apologizes for existing.
The thought came unbidden, in Marcus's mocking voice.
You're nothing. Nobody.
My father's voice now.
You should live on the streets where you belong.
Seraphina's cruel laugh.
You look even weaker than the last one.
Lucian's cold assessment when we first met.
Twenty-six years of voices telling me I wasn't enough. That I'd never be enough.
And now I was supposed to just magically figure out how to wield celestial power?
Rage exploded through me.
Silver light erupted from my hands like lightning. The stone floor beneath my feet cracked. The air itself seemed to scream.
Power—raw, uncontrolled, furious—poured out of me in waves.
And I couldn't stop it.
"Celeste!" Lucian's voice sounded far away. "Control it!"
"I can't!" The power was feeding on my anger, my pain, my twenty-six years of being invisible. "I don't know how!"
The cracks in the floor spread. The walls started crumbling. If I didn't stop this, I'd bring down the entire palace.
Then arms wrapped around me from behind.
Cold. Strong. Steady.
Lucian pulled me against his chest, his hands covering mine. Ice met fire. His freezing touch shocked my system, breaking through the rage.
"Breathe," he whispered in my ear. Not commanding now. Gentle. "Just breathe with me."
I tried. Failed. The power kept surging.
"You're not worthless," Lucian said quietly. "You're not nobody. You're the woman the Moon chose. The woman I've waited twelve centuries for. The woman strong enough to hold a goddess's soul."
His words cut through my anger.
"Breathe," he said again. "In. Out. Feel my heartbeat. Match yours to mine."
I focused on his chest pressed against my back. Found his heartbeat—slow, steady, eternal.
I breathed in. Out. In. Out.
The power slowly calmed, retreating back into my skin like a tide pulling back from shore.
The courtyard fell silent except for our breathing.
Lucian didn't let go. "Better?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Good." But he still didn't release me. "That rage—that's what triggers your power. Every emotion you've buried, every hurt you've swallowed, every time you made yourself small—it's all fuel."
"How do I control it?" I whispered.
"You don't." His breath was cold against my ear. "You channel it. Use it. The power isn't separate from you, Celeste. It IS you. Your pain. Your strength. Everything you've survived."
I looked at my hands, still covered by his. The mark glowed softly between our interlaced fingers.
"The other brides," I said. "Is this why they failed? Too much emotion?"
"Not enough," Lucian corrected. "They tried to suppress it. Tried to be perfect, controlled vessels. But the Priestess's power doesn't work that way. It feeds on truth. On raw, honest emotion."
He finally let me go, stepping back. I immediately missed his cold presence.
"Again," he commanded. "But this time, don't fight the anger. Use it."
For the next hour, I practiced. Summoning power. Controlling it. Letting it flow through me instead of exploding out of me.
Every time I lost control, Lucian was there. Catching me. Grounding me. His cold touch the only thing that could calm the burning power.
"You're learning faster than any bride before you," he said during a break. "The Priestess's memories are helping."
"Or maybe I just have more anger to channel," I said dryly.
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "That too."
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment. Then I asked the question that had been eating at me.
"Lucian. Last night. The ghost said to trust no one." I met his eyes. "Does that include you?"
His expression hardened. "Probably."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have." He turned away. "I've lied to brides before. Hidden truths. Done whatever necessary to keep them—and you—alive. So yes, trust me to train you. Trust me to protect you. But don't trust me to tell you everything."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said quietly, "some truths are more dangerous than lies."
Before I could respond, Aria burst into the courtyard, her face pale with terror.
"Your Highness! Miss Celeste!" She gasped for breath. "The Council—they've made a decision. About the war. About the Dark God."
Lucian went very still. "What decision?"
"They're surrendering," Aria said, tears streaming down her face. "They voted this morning. Rather than fight the Dark God, they're going to hand Miss Celeste over to him. To Seraphina."
My world tilted. "What?"
"The vote was unanimous," Aria continued. "They said one girl isn't worth risking the entire realm. They're giving you to Seraphina tomorrow at sunset. She'll take your heart, become the bride herself, and the Dark God will leave us alone."
I looked at Lucian. Waited for him to say this was a mistake. That he'd fight the Council. That he'd protect me.
But his expression was unreadable.
"Lucian?" My voice shook. "Tell me you're not going to let this happen."
He met my eyes, and what I saw there made my blood freeze.
Guilt.
"The Council's word is law," he said carefully. "Even I can't override their decision."
"But you can fight it!" I moved toward him. "You're a prince! You have power!"
"Not enough." He looked away. "Not against twelve Council elders united."
"So that's it?" I couldn't believe this. "You're just going to hand me over? After everything—after twelve centuries of waiting—you're giving up?"
"I'm being practical," Lucian said, his voice going cold again. "One life for the safety of millions. It's an easy choice."
Aria gasped. "Your Highness, you can't mean—"
"I mean exactly what I said." Lucian's silver eyes were ice. "Tomorrow at sunset, Celeste Ashford will be given to Seraphina. This discussion is over."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the destroyed courtyard.
I stood there, frozen, my world crumbling around me.
He'd lied. Everything—the training, the protection, the gentle words—had been a lie.
He was going to let me die.
"Miss Celeste," Aria whispered, touching my arm. "We have to run. Now. Before tomorrow comes."
"Run where?" I asked numbly. "I'm bound to this realm. There's nowhere to go."
"Then we fight," Aria said fiercely. "We fight the Council. We fight Seraphina. We fight everyone if we have to."
I looked at my marked hand. Twenty-four hours. That's all I had left.
Twenty-four hours until Seraphina ripped out my heart.
Unless—
An idea formed. Terrible. Dangerous. Probably suicidal.
But it was the only chance I had.
"Aria," I said slowly. "The forbidden library. The one where Bride 12 found her ritual. Can you take me there?"
Aria's eyes widened. "That's forbidden for a reason, Miss. The knowledge there is—"
"Dangerous. I know." I smiled grimly. "But I'm already dead tomorrow anyway. Might as well go down fighting."
Aria hesitated. Then nodded. "Follow me. And pray the guards don't catch us."
As we snuck through the palace toward the forbidden library, I thought about Lucian's cold dismissal.
Trust me to protect you, he'd said.
But don't trust me to tell you everything.
Well, I didn't trust him anymore.
And when tomorrow came, he'd learn exactly what happened when you betrayed a girl who had nothing left to lose.
The Priestess whispered in my mind: Good. Anger makes us stronger.
For once, Celeste and the Priestess agreed completely.