Chapter 6 Two Souls, One Body

The dreams weren't dreams anymore. They were memories.

I stood in Celeste's childhood home, watching her mother brew potions while her father taught her to control the wolf inside. She was half-witch, half-werewolf, belonging fully to neither world.

"You're special, my star," her mother said, adding moonflower to a cauldron. "You'll bridge our people."

But being special meant being alone. The children of the witches feared her strength. The cubs of the wolves sensed her magic and stayed away.

Only Sarah understood. Sweet little Sarah with her paintbrushes and her laughter.

"Sister, look!" Seven-year-old Sarah held up a portrait. It showed Celeste with wings, flying above the forest. "One day you'll soar above everyone!"

The memory shifted. Celeste at eighteen, meeting Donovan for the first time. He'd come to negotiate a treaty between the local pack and the coven. She'd opened the door, and the world stopped.

The mate bond hit them both like lightning. I felt it through her memories. There was  the absolute certainty that this person was meant for you. That your souls were two halves of a whole.

But then there was Marcus. Donovan's best friend, his beta, with his gentle humor and his careful hands. He didn't make Celeste's soul sing like Donovan did. But he made her feel safe.

The affair started accidentally. Donovan had gone for three months, handling pack business. Marcus stayed to protect the coven. Long nights talking became lingering glances, lingering glances brought about that one kiss that changed everything.

"We can't," Celeste had said.

"I know," Marcus replied, already pulling away.

But they got intimate.

Just once.

It happened before the night before Donovan returned.

The pregnancy was impossible to hide from a witch mother.

"It's Marcus's," her mother said. It wasn't a question.

"I'll tell Donovan after the wedding. I’m sure he'll understand." Celeste said with certainty.

Her mother's face was sad. "Oh, my star. He won't."

I woke up gasping, my body drenched in sweat. But I wasn't alone in my mind anymore.

I'm sorry, a voice whispered. I didn't hear it with my ears, it was inside my head.

"Celeste?"

You're in pain because of me.

I looked in the mirror. My hair was completely golden now and my eyes were  fully purple. My face had restructured itself into something hauntingly beautiful.

But I was still there. Sierra Martinez still existed behind those purple eyes.

"We're in pain because of Donovan," I said.

He wasn't always like this, grief changed him.

"Grief isn't an excuse for murdering twelve women."

“No, it doesn't.”

I heard  knock at the door. "Sierra? It's Elara."

Dr. Chen entered with some medical equipment. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes widening.

"The transformation... it's complete. But you're still..."

"Still me. Mostly." I touched my golden hair. "She's here too. We're... coexisting."

Elara ran scan after scan, she took my blood samples and checked my vitals. Her hands shook.

"This… This is impossible,” she stammered. “The brain scans show two distinct consciousness patterns. You should be seizing or comatose. Worse still, dead."

"I’m sorry to disappoint you." I told Elara.

“Tell her about Sarah,”  Celeste whispered.

"Celeste wants you to know the truth about Sarah," I said.

Elara froze. "You can hear her?"

"We share everything now; thoughts, memories and feelings." I paused. "Sarah didn't betray Celeste on purpose. She was trying to protect everyone."

"Dad won't care."

"He might. If he hears it from Celeste herself."

Elara packed up her equipment. "Can she... can she speak through you?"

I felt Celeste's presence push forward. It didn't hurt, though. It was more like stepping aside in my own body.

When I spoke, it was her voice: "Hello, Elara."

Elara dropped her scanner. "Aunt Celeste?"

"You've grown so much, little wolf. You were just a pup when I..." The voice faltered. I felt Celeste's grief like a knife. "I'm sorry for everything Donovan has done in my name."

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it? He's doing this for me." Celeste retreated, and I was fully myself again.

Elara stared at me - us  with wonder and fear. "How long can you maintain this? Two souls in one body?"

"I don't know."

It won't be long, Celeste admitted. “The human mind isn't meant for this. You'll start to fracture soon.”

Donovan appeared in the doorway. He took one look at me and his knees buckled.

"Celeste."

"And Sierra," I said firmly. "We're both here."

He crossed the room in two strides, hands cradling my face. "My love, I've missed you so much."

“Let me,” Celeste whispered.

I allowed her to take control again.

"Donovan." Her hand – my hand  touched his cheek. "My brave wolf. What have you done?"

"I brought you back."

"You imprisoned twelve innocent women. You tortured them."

"To save you!"

"I didn't want to be saved." Tears ran down our face. "I wanted to rest. I wanted to be with our…" She stopped.

"Our what?" His eyes turned dangerous. "Were you going to say our child? The one that was actually Marcus's?"

The temperature in the room dropped.

"Yes," Celeste said simply. "I was pregnant with Marcus's child. I was going to tell you and beg your forgiveness. I wanted us to raise the baby as ours."

"You betrayed me."

"I made a mistake. It was one night of weakness." She pulled back, and I was in control again, stumbling from the intensity of her emotions.

"But she chose you," I said. "She was marrying you because she loved you."

"It is not enough to stay faithful." Donovan said.

"So says the man who kidnapped thirteen women to get her back?" I laughed bitterly. "At least her betrayal only hurt you. Yours destroyed innocent lives."

He grabbed my throat. Though, it was not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to warn.

"You're still in there, little human. I could make this transformation very painful for you."

*Don't provoke him,” Celeste warned. “He's more dangerous than you know.”

But I was angry. This was my own anger, not Celeste's.

"Do it then. Show Celeste exactly what you've become. Show her the monster wearing her true love's face."

His grip tightened. Elara stepped forward.

"Dad, stop."

"She needs to learn respect."

"She needs to prepare for tomorrow. The release ceremony for the twelve." Elara pulled his hand away. "You promised."

He let go, but his eyes stayed on mine. "It will happen tomorrow at sunset at the basement. And then, Sierra Martinez ceases to exist."

"We'll see about that."

He left. Elara followed after giving me a worried look.

“You're brave,” Celeste said. You're stupid, but brave.”

"I'm tired of being afraid." I responded.

“That’s good. We'll need that courage for what's coming.”

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

“ I’m talking about tomorrow's ceremony. Releasing the twelve won't be simple. They're trapped between life and death, between themselves and me. When we free them…” She paused. “They'll want revenge.”

"On Donovan?" I asked fearfully.

“ No, on me. I'm the one possessing them, even incompletely. In their minds, I'm the monster.”

I thought of Emma's journal. Of her terror as she lost herself.

"Then we face them together," I said.

“You would do that? After everything?”

"We're sharing a body. We might as well share the guilt too."

That night, Marcus climbed through my window. He froze when he saw me.

"Your transformation…"

"Is complete. But I'm still here." I sat on the bed. "We both are."

He approached carefully, like I might break. "How?"

"I don't know. We just... fit. Like puzzle pieces." I felt Celeste stir. "She wants to talk to you."

"I can't. Not yet." Pain flickered across his face. "Seeing her in your body, hearing her voice... it's too much."

"She says she's sorry."

"I know." He touched my golden hair gently. "I've always known."

"The baby…"

"Would have been loved. By all of us." He pulled his hand back. "But that future died with her."

“Tell him about the ceremony,” Celeste urged.

I explained about releasing the twelve, about the possibility of their revenge.

Marcus's face darkened. "It's a trap, Sierra. Donovan's testing you."

"Maybe. But those women deserve freedom, even if it's just to die."

"You could die too."

"I'm already dying." I showed him my hands. They were trembling constantly now, a sign of the strain. "Two souls in one body isn't sustainable. Celeste and I both know it."

"Then we run tonight."

"And leave twelve women trapped forever?" I shook my head. "I won't be that kind of person. Neither will Celeste."

He stared at me for a long moment. "You're like her, you know. Even before the transformation. The stubbornness, the compassion, the infuriating need to save everyone."

"Maybe that's why it worked. Why we can coexist." I managed a smile. "We're too similar to fight each other."

"Or too similar to survive together."

He wasn't wrong. I could feel the edges of my mind fraying, like cloth pulled too tight. Celeste felt it too, her presence growing heavier by the hour.

“I won't let you die,” she promised.

But I wasn't sure that was a promise she could keep.

Marcus left just before dawn, promising to be there for the ceremony. I didn't sleep. Instead, I sat with Celeste in our shared mind, looking through her memories, preparing for what was coming.

The twelve women in the basement had been housekeepers like me. They'd had dreams, families, futures. Now they were trapped between worlds because of one man's obsessive love.

Tomorrow, we would free them, or die trying.

“Sierra?” Celeste's voice was soft.

"Yeah?"

“Thank you for not hating me.”

"You're as much a victim as the rest of us."

“No, I chose Donovan. I chose Marcus. I made the decisions that led to this.” Her presence wrapped around me like a hug. “But you chose compassion when you had every right to choose rage. That's why you might be the one to break this curse.”

"What curse?"

“The curse of the past poisoning the future. My death poisoned Donovan. Sarah's guilt poisoned your family line, and my resurrection poisoned twelve innocent women.”

"Thirteen," I corrected.

“No, you're not poisoned. You're the cure.”

I wanted to ask what she meant, but the sun was rising.

The day of reckoning had begun.