Celeste's POV
The champagne glass shattered against the wall, missing my head by inches.
"You clumsy idiot!" My stepmother Helena's voice cut through the ballroom music. "Do you know how much those cost?"
I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces with my bare hands. Around me, the Silverhaven Gala continued like nothing happened. Rich people in expensive clothes laughed and danced. Nobody looked at the girl in the plain black dress cleaning up glass.
Nobody ever looked at me.
"Sorry," I whispered, even though it wasn't my fault. A woman had bumped into my tray. But apologizing was easier than explaining. I'd learned that lesson twenty-six years ago, the day my father brought me home to his "real" family.
"Pathetic." The word came from behind me, dripping with disgust.
I knew that voice. It still haunted my dreams.
Marcus Caldwell—my fiancé. Ex-fiancé, I reminded myself. The man who'd proposed to me three years ago. The man who'd kissed me goodnight just eight days before. The man who'd dumped me at my own birthday dinner and announced he was marrying my stepsister instead.
I didn't turn around. Maybe if I stayed invisible, he'd go away.
"Look at her, crawling on the floor like a servant," Marcus said to someone beside him. "Can you believe I almost married that?"
Laughter. Female laughter. Seraphina.
My stepsister's diamond heels clicked closer. I could see them from where I knelt—expensive, sparkling, perfect. Just like her.
"Oh Marcus, don't be mean," Seraphina cooed, but her voice held no sympathy. "Celeste is exactly where she belongs. On her knees."
More laughter from the crowd around them. My cheeks burned. A piece of glass cut into my palm, but I didn't make a sound. I'd gotten good at swallowing pain.
"Hurry up, Celeste," my father's voice boomed from across the room. Richard Ashford, business mogul, philanthropist, father of the year—to everyone except me. "The Moonlight Ceremony starts in five minutes. Don't embarrass the family."
Don't embarrass the family. That was always the rule. Be invisible. Be quiet. Be grateful we let you exist.
I dumped the glass into a bin and pressed my bleeding hand against my dress. The black fabric hid the stain. That's why Helena made me wear black to events—it hid all evidence that I existed.
The lights dimmed. Music stopped. Everyone moved toward the center of the ballroom, where a glass ceiling showed the night sky above.
Tonight was the Moonlight Ceremony. Every hundred years, the Moon chose one woman to become the Moonlight Bride—an honor beyond imagination. The chosen woman gained immortality, power, and status. Her entire family's bloodline was blessed.
Seraphina had been preparing for this moment her entire life. The Ashford family had produced three Moonlight Brides in past centuries. Everyone knew she'd be the fourth.
I stayed in the shadows, watching my stepsister glide to the center of the room. She wore a white dress that cost more than I'd earned in my entire life. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves. Every eye in the room was on her.
"She's stunning," someone whispered.
"The Moon would be lucky to choose her," another agreed.
I wrapped my arms around myself. One week ago, Marcus had told me he loved me. He'd held me while I cried about my father forgetting my birthday again. He'd promised we'd have a small wedding, just us, away from my family's cruelty.
Then he'd published my research under his name. Five years of work, stolen in a single night. When I confronted him, he'd laughed. "Who would believe you did the research?" he'd said. "You're just a librarian. I'm a professor. Besides, I'm marrying Seraphina now. Her father's connections will make me dean of the university."
I'd been a stepping stone. A source of free research. A convenience.
Nothing more.
"The ceremony begins!" The High Priestess's voice echoed through the ballroom.
The glass ceiling opened. Cold night air rushed in. Above us, the full moon glowed brighter than I'd ever seen it.
Seraphina raised her arms dramatically, her face tilted toward the sky. The crowd held their breath.
A beam of pure silver moonlight broke through the darkness.
It descended like a waterfall of stars, beautiful and terrible. The entire room gasped. This was it—the moment that came once per century.
The light moved toward the Ashford family. Seraphina's smile widened. My stepmother clutched my father's arm, already celebrating.
The moonlight stopped above Seraphina's head.
Then it moved.
It slid past her like she didn't exist. Past my stepmother. Past the dozen other women dressed in white, hoping, praying.
The light stopped directly above me.
Time froze. Every head turned. Hundreds of eyes found me in my dark corner, bloodstained hand pressed to my chest, broken and invisible.
Not invisible anymore.
"No," Seraphina breathed. "No, no, NO!"
"There's a mistake!" Helena shrieked. "The Moon made a mistake!"
But the silver light wrapped around me like warm silk. I felt it in my bones, in my blood, in places I didn't know existed. Power flooded through me, so strong my knees buckled.
Through the chaos, I heard Marcus: "This is impossible. She's nothing. She's nobody!"
The light lifted me off my feet. I was floating, rising toward the open ceiling. Below me, the ballroom erupted into screaming. Seraphina's face was twisted with rage. My father looked horrified. Marcus stood with his mouth open, looking stupid for the first time in his life.
"HELP!" I screamed, reaching toward them. "Please, help me!"
Nobody moved. They just watched as the Moon pulled me higher and higher.
The last thing I saw was Seraphina's face, beautiful and terrible, mouthing words I could read even from the sky: "I'll kill you."
Then the world disappeared in a flash of silver light, and I was gone.
I expected to die.
Instead, I woke up in hell.
Or heaven.
I couldn't tell which.
The room around me glowed with soft silver light. I was lying on the biggest bed I'd ever seen, covered in blankets that felt like clouds. Walls made of crystal surrounded me, and through windows I could see an impossible sky—three moons hanging in eternal twilight.
This wasn't the mortal world anymore.
My heart hammered. I tried to sit up, but my body felt different. Stronger. My glasses were gone, but I could see perfectly. The chronic pain in my back from years of scrubbing floors—gone. Even the cut on my palm had vanished.
What was happening?
A door opened.
I froze.
A man walked in, and my breath caught in my throat. He was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen—and the most terrifying. Tall, with silver-white hair that seemed to glow. His eyes were pure silver, cold and ancient. He moved like a predator, graceful and deadly.
He stopped at the foot of my bed and stared at me with those inhuman eyes.
When he spoke, his voice was ice itself.
"So. You're the one the Moon chose this century." His lip curled slightly, not quite a smile. "How disappointing. You look even weaker than the last one."
I pulled the blankets up to my chin. "W-who are you? Where am I?"
"I am Prince Lucian Nightveil, ruler of the Lunar Court." He tilted his head, studying me like I was a bug. "And you, little mortal, are the Moonlight Bride."
Hope fluttered in my chest. "Then... then I'm honored? I'm blessed?"
Something flickered in his silver eyes. Almost like pity.
"No, Celeste Ashford." He moved closer, and I could feel cold radiating from him. "You're not blessed. You're cursed."
My mouth went dry. "What do you mean?"
"The Moonlight Bride isn't an honor. It's a death sentence." His face remained expressionless. "You'll channel celestial power to maintain the barrier between worlds. The power will consume you slowly, eating away at your soul until there's nothing left. Previous brides lasted three years. Five, if they were strong."
"No," I whispered. "No, that can't be true."
"It's very true." He turned toward the door. "I've watched twelve brides die in this room. You'll be the thirteenth."
"Wait!" I scrambled off the bed. "You have to send me back! I don't want this!"
He looked back at me over his shoulder. "Nobody cares what you want. The Moon has chosen. Her word is absolute." He paused at the door. "Get some rest. Your training begins tomorrow."
"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Please help me."
For a moment—just a heartbeat—something changed in his expression. Something almost human. Then it was gone, replaced by ice.
"I can't help you," he said quietly. "No one can."
The door closed behind him with a sound like a tomb sealing shut.
I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. I'd been chosen by the Moon, pulled away from a life where everyone hated me.
And I'd landed somewhere even worse.
I was going to die here.
Alone.
Just like I'd lived.
I cried until I had no tears left. Then I dragged myself to the window and looked out at the three moons hanging in the purple sky.
"Why did you choose me?" I whispered to them. "What did I do to deserve this?"
The moons didn't answer.
But as I turned away, something caught my eye. On the bedside table sat a small book I hadn't noticed before. Old leather, worn pages. The title was barely visible:
The True History of the Moonlight Brides
My hands shook as I picked it up. I was a librarian. I knew old books held secrets.
I opened to the first page and started reading.
Three sentences in, my blood turned to ice.
The book fell from my trembling hands.
Because I'd just discovered something impossible.
Something that changed everything.
The Moonlight Brides didn't die from the power consuming them.
They were murdered.
Every single one.
And the killer was still in this palace.