The night of her birthday celebration ended quietly, with Liam's arms wrapped tightly around Celeste as they lay in bed. He had whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his love for her evident in every touch, every kiss. For a fleeting moment, she felt safe. Grounded. Whole.
But Celeste knew better than to believe in illusions.
Her mind spun relentlessly, replaying the auburn-haired woman's words over and over. She had tried to bury the memories of what she had done all those years ago, to convince herself that she had paid her price in full. But the truth was clear now: there was no escape.
That night, as Liam kissed her with the same passion they'd shared since the day they met, Celeste made a choice.
She would do it again.
For him. For her family. For the life she had built.
For herself.
Two weeks later, Celeste stood in front of the inconspicuous building hidden deep in the California hills. It looked as unassuming as it had a decade ago, a stark contrast to the horrors and power that lurked within.
Her hand rested on her abdomen, where the faintest stirrings of life had begun to grow. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of Liam, so blissfully unaware of the secret she carried. He had been thrilled when she suggested he take a short trip to visit Rollie in London. She'd lied and told him she wanted a few days to herself to relax and write.
If only he knew.
Celeste pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the dimly lit hallway. The air was thick with the scent of incense and something metallic, and the familiar hum of energy sent a shiver down her spine.
The auburn-haired woman was waiting for her in the main chamber, her green eyes glinting with satisfaction.
"I knew you'd come," the woman said, her voice dripping with triumph.
Celeste's jaw tightened. "Let's just get this over with."
The woman's smile widened as she gestured for Celeste to follow her. They descended into the depths of the cult's sanctuary, the walls closing in around them. The faint sound of chanting echoed in the distance, growing louder with every step.
When they reached the ritual chamber, Celeste's stomach churned. The altar stood exactly as she remembered it, draped in crimson fabric and surrounded by flickering candles. A group of hooded figures waited silently, their faces obscured.
"You know the process," the auburn-haired woman said, her tone almost casual. "And you know what it will cost."
Celeste clenched her fists, fighting the urge to scream. She had done this before, and the memory of it had haunted her ever since. But she would do it again, because the alternative was unthinkable.
She lay on the altar, her hands trembling as the ritual began. The chanting grew louder, the air crackling with an otherworldly energy. The pain was sharp and immediate, radiating through her body as the life inside her was taken.
Tears streamed down her face as she felt the essence of the embryo being drawn from her, its pure, unformed energy absorbed into the ritual. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, the guilt and grief threatening to consume her.
When it was over, Celeste lay motionless, her body and soul hollowed out. The auburn-haired woman leaned over her, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead.
"You've done well," she said softly. "The balance is restored—for now."
Celeste forced herself to sit up, her body aching and her heart shattered. "Don't ever contact me again," she spat, her voice raw.
The woman's smile was infuriatingly calm. "Oh, Celeste. You know it doesn't work like that. But I will say this: you've bought yourself time. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Back in Scotland, Celeste stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean, the wind whipping her hair around her face. Liam would be back soon, and she had to find a way to bury the guilt, to push the memory of what she had done deep into the recesses of her mind.
She had sacrificed another part of herself to protect the life she loved. But at what cost?
As she stared out at the waves crashing against the rocks below, a single thought echoed in her mind:
How much more could she give before there was nothing left of her?