A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

important things.”
    “Way to avoid the question.” My gaze swept past him, to the open window. “Are we in Colorado?”
    “Yes,” he said. “But, Skye—”
    “What is this place?” I asked.
    “We’re in a cabin. But listen, once you start asking questions—”
    “What kind of cabin? How did you find it?”
    “Let’s talk about it when you’ve got all your strength back,” Asher said. “I don’t think the Order will be able to find you here.”
    I paused. The Order. How could I forget that group of angels who could control fate and the Natural Order of the world—including human lives? They believed in living by rules no matter the cost. Their messengers were called Guardians, sent to Earth to carry out their master plan. They had no free will.
    According to the Order, no one did.
    Asher grinned at me and raised an eyebrow. “And if all else fails,” he said, “they’ll have to get through me before they can lay a finger on you.” The familiar flash of mischief crept back into his eyes. “Only I get to do that.”
    I grinned at him challengingly. “Oh, yeah?” It was hard not to feel safe with Asher. He exuded confidence, and in that moment, I believed him when he said he wouldn’t let anything hurt me.
    I wondered if my mother had felt the same way with my father. If that was what had led her to believe he was worth risking everything for. My parents had been angels, something I’d only just found out on my seventeenth birthday. My mother was a Guardian, and my father, a Rebel. But by the time they’d given birth to me, they’d already been cast to Earth as mortals—the punishment for loving each other. Now they were dead, and I had powers raging within me that no one seemed to be able to understand. Least of all me.
    You’d think the Rebellion would be dangerous, with their staunch belief that revolutions and destruction led to rebirth and renewal. But, as I looked into Asher’s dizzying black eyes, I knew that he was right—being safe from the Order was the better option. Something about the Order’s calculated control felt even more dangerous. I had an eerie feeling that there was a specific reason I was scared of them now, too. It had to do with why I was here, with how I’d ended up in a coma in the first place. I could almost remember. . . .
    I just needed to get Asher to give me a few details.
    I looked up at him, and his magnetic grin drew me in the way it always had. Heat flushed my cheeks. Asher. I remembered him so clearly. The emotional memories were as strong as a physical one, a scent or a touch or a song. I had fought against opening up to him for so long.
    It had been a battle between us: who could be wittier, more playful, more guarded. I didn’t want to admit that I was different enough to be special. And he was supposed to protect me, watch out for me, help me to determine my powers, and ultimately guide me toward the dark and the Rebellion.
    It didn’t feel like that long ago that I had sat, curled up with him on my deck in River Springs, Colorado, a wool blanket wrapped tight around us, snuggled in our Adirondack chair as the moon rose brighter in the sky.
    The whole point of the Rebellion is so that we can live by our own rules. That’s the entire reason we jumped. I know you’re stuck between two choices, and you don’t exactly have a conscious say in the matter. Your powers will take over when it really counts.
    But I have a choice, Skye. And there is nothing that I’ve ever wanted more.
    And then, I’d kissed him.
    But everything after that was a blur. There had been sirens. Someone I loved had gotten hurt. Aunt Jo was off in the woods, far from home. And something had come between Asher and me. Something that had landed me here.
    I knew it had to do with the Order. They had been trying to control my fate for seventeen years. Why stop now?
    But I’m safe here , I thought as my heart began to beat faster. At least from any bodily harm. And I’m with Asher.
    His hand was still warm as he cupped my cheek, and I put my hand over his again. A tiny buzz of electricity thrummed and grew stronger where our skin touched. My powers always seemed to generate heat whenever I felt emotional; it was the angelic Rebel blood running through me. I moved his hand down to my neck, as I reached up with my other hand to pull him toward me onto the faded quilt.
    “I’m so glad you’re back,” he murmured as he let me pull him close, his fingers winding