A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

turned to Asher. “Want to go out back while we’re waiting?”
    He nodded, squeezing my hand in his.
    “It’ll be ready in just a few minutes,” Aunt Jo warned.
    “Can Asher stay for dinner?” I asked.
    “Yeah?” he said eagerly. “Can I stay? I’ve been dreaming about your lemon bars every night.”
    She looked like she might be about to give in. Then Asher smiled his charming smile at her, and her face hardened.
    “Oh, not tonight. Skye needs her rest! Besides, Asher, you’re over here so often, I bet your parents are wondering if we kidnapped you.” Asher’s smile faded into a scowl, and his eyebrows knocked together.
    “No,” he said. “I doubt they’re thinking that.”
    “Well, either way, I think we’ll all call it a night early tonight—okay?” She looked at me pointedly.
    “Fine,” I muttered. I took Asher’s hand, and we walked out onto the deck. It was excruciating to put all of my weight on my ankle, but I couldn’t let him know anything was wrong. I tried to smile through the pain.
    Once we were alone outside, Asher laced his fingers through mine and kissed me. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. I nodded. And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have told him just then.
    The sky had faded from dusk to darkness, and it looked like someone had flung up a handful of stars like confetti. I breathed deep and closed my eyes. Asher stepped closer to me, squeezing my hands softly in his and bringing my arms around his waist. I nestled into him and felt him shiver under my touch.
    “You don’t feel any warmer,” he said. “Not like you usually do. You okay with this?” His voice was low and scratchy and familiar and thrilling all at once. Though my eyes were closed, I could feel my energy focusing, the stars move above me, forming constellations, rearranging themselves.
    “Fine,” I said.
    He moved closer still, and my breath grew shallow as I struggled to maintain control of my powers.
    “And this?” he whispered, lowering his face until his lips were barely grazing mine. My skin grew warm, and I could feel the pain flare up in my ankle, shooting through the rest of me. I let out a sharp gasp, and Asher stepped away quickly.
    “Too much?” he asked.
    “Skye!” Aunt Jo called, too loudly, from the doorway. “Dinner!”
    “Crap,” I muttered.
    “Come on ,” I heard Asher groan under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
    I looked up at him and ran my thumb along his chin. “See you tomorrow?” I asked.
    “Count on it.” He jogged down the stairs of the deck to the field below, and before my eyes could adjust, I’d lost him in the darkness.
    As I turned around to go inside, I glanced upward. The stars had arranged themselves into a tiny heart. I smiled to myself, suppressing the pain in my ankle, and went inside for dinner.
     
    While Aunt Jo was clearing the dishes, I hobbled frantically to the downstairs bathroom. There was no way I could climb the stairs to my room just yet. I locked the door behind me, sat down on the lid of the toilet, and brought my foot up onto my knee.
    Okay , I thought. You can do this. I tried to remember what Devin had done to me when I was in the infirmary after the avalanche. He’d wrapped both hands around my ankle, and the pain had flared up, fantastically intense before subsiding into nothingness.
    I wrapped my own hands around my ankle. I closed my eyes and tried to let the energy flow through my fingertips. What had Asher told me that very first night we’d kissed in my room?
    Just pretend that everything inside you is lots of unfiltered electricity. Imagine what you want to do with it. And then imagine flipping a switch—and turning it on.
    With my eyes still closed, I focused on the energy, curling it up into a ball of light in my hands. Flip the switch , I thought.
    The ball of light grew brighter and more vibrant as I held it steady. I brought it toward my ankle and spread it over the pain, like a salve. I directed every ounce of energy I had, flowing through the tips of my fingers, and suddenly I felt an intense pain flair up in my leg, blinding, overwhelming. A white-hot flash burned through me. “Ow,” I gasped, hoping Aunt Jo couldn’t hear me.
    And then, just like that, the pain faded away. A cooling relief tingled up from my ankle, flooding through the rest of my body. I tried to catch my breath.
    I had done it! My ankle felt fine— better than fine. Amazing.
    “Skye?” Aunt Jo called. “You feel okay,