A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

“He knows .”
    “Cass,” I said, crossing my arms. “No means no.”
    “Fine,” she grumbled. Then paused. “What about Asher? Don’t you want to be where he is?”
    Don’t pick your star just because it’s the star he’s chosen, Aunt Jo had said. It seemed logical enough, but I really had no idea what the answer to Cassie’s question was. I sauntered over to the window and peered out. Asher was patrolling outside, a Rebel angel and a soldier. What had Ardith said? He’d spend another thousand years by your side if he could. Yes, of course I wanted to be wherever he was.
    But what if my powers told a different story? My story was about love, but what if the blood in my veins wanted it to be about war?
    “I don’t know,” I said quietly. Behind me, I heard the bed squeak as Cassie got up. She put her arm around me gently.
    “You’ll figure it out, Skye,” she said. “You always do.”

Chapter 27
    L ater that night, after many hours of talking, Cassie finally left me alone in the quiet of my room. I should have felt catharsis, relief, but talking it all over with Cassie only solidified the tension I was feeling. Of course I wanted to be with Asher—and not just now, here, or at the Rebellion, but forever. When I tried to picture a life without him in it, my mind grew as white and empty as the beach in my visions.
    But I had to stay true to myself in this, too. And the powers that ran through me were greater than both the Order and the Rebellion combined. Both sides knew it.
    I was just getting into bed when I heard a tap at the window. Seconds later it swung open, and Asher hopped inside.
    “Close the window,” I said. “Please. It’s cold.” He closed it and came over to me.
    “Are you okay?” he asked gently and sat next to me. He looked like he wanted to reach his arm around my shoulders, but he held back. “You’re too quiet,” he said. “You’re worrying me, Skye.”
    I sighed and let myself fall back on the bed. “I hate this.”
    “Well, I can leave. . . .”
    “No, I mean this !” I flung my arms wide. “What if my heart is telling me one thing and my blood is making me do the opposite?”
    “ What? ” he asked so vehemently that it came out as two syllables. “Where is that coming from?”
    “What if we can’t stay together forever? What if the Rebellion isn’t the place for me, after all?”
    Asher tensed. “Why would you say that?”
    “I’m a balance of both the dark and the light. It’s who I am. You know that. You’ve seen it.”
    “That’s okay,” he said, finally reaching over to take my hand. “We want you. It’s that blend of powers that makes you so strong.”
    “You want me as a weapon, you mean,” I said darkly. “I won’t be responsible for that kind of destruction—no matter what the Order’s done to me.”
    Asher ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “What do you want, Skye? Tell me. Do you want me to leave the Rebellion for you? Cut off my wings and become mortal? I’d do it. But I don’t think that would make you happy, and I don’t know what would.” His eyes were wild, pleading. “Tell me what you want!”
    I thought about his offer. It reminded me, hopelessly, of my parents being cast to Earth. Their great, romantic love story.
    “I want you!” I cried, my voice breaking. “And when I try to picture my life without you, I—” Tears spilled fast and hot on my cheeks, and I couldn’t finish.
    “Skye,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me.
    But I pulled away.
    My parents had died. Despite the epic love story. Despite all they risked for each other. Even running away couldn’t stop what was coming for me and Asher. Whether or not I let the Rebellion use my powers, I couldn’t stop the universe from conspiring to destroy itself.
    I looked up at him. His pitch-black eyes looked so vulnerable. I wanted so badly to take his face in my hands and promise him I would never leave him. But we’d both know I’d be lying.
    “What if what I want isn’t what has to happen?” I asked, my voice coming out so small.
    Asher looked stricken. “I will always love you,” he said to me. He ran his fingers through my hair softly, and let his hand rest under my chin. “Always. Do you even know how long that is?”
    “A long time,” I said, laughing through my tears. “Forever.”
    “Forever,” he repeated. “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you. Okay? No matter what threatens to tear us apart.”
    But what tore