Free Destined (Desolation #3) by Ali Cross

one hand toward me, his fingers stretching. I’m fascinated by them. They’re long and slender, infused with light. There are no tattoos. No crosses and knots. No fear against the dark.
    I wish I didn’t fear the dark.
    I wish I could be free. Ascended, like Aaron. 
    But that will never happen for me.
    If you want it, there is something even greater for you, baby, Lucy says. She isn’t trying to touch me. She floats in the air behind Aaron, looking like a goddess—not too different from the way she looked in real life. Her black skin is radiant with light. 
    “You’re beautiful,” I tell her. 
    She smiles and says, Just like you baby, just like you. Except I knew she’d say that. Lucy always told me I was beautiful. Figures that my brain would pull on old material. 
    And then Aaron’s finger is touching my forehead and white pain is searing through my body and it burns, it burns, it burns and . . . 
    Oh 
    gods.
     

    I feel as though my body is alight with fire, but not the bad kind.
    I am a torch.
    Fire in the darkness.
    “What—” My throat still hurts, my voice still rasps. I think this is still a dream. Because I’m not Ascended, and of course I never will be, so there’s no way I could be made of light. “What did you do to me?” I gasp.
    He’s sharing his light with you, baby. Can you feel it?
    I can feel it. I nod.
    Can you feel your own light?
    I look at her, at the hope on her face. Why does she look like that? I search inside myself. Nope . 
    I shake my head.
    No. No light.
    Look harder, Lucy says, and there’s a breathless quality to her voice, an urgency I can’t make sense of.
    I mean, it’s my dream, right? Can’t she stay forever?
    Another burst of fire-light burns through me and as I watch, Aaron’s light dims. Just a little. I think it’s maybe because I am brighter—maybe he only looks dim because I am bright.
    It has to be that.
    Look again, Lucy says, reaching out but stopping short of touching me. Desolation! The sound of my name on her lips, in a voice that says, Suck it up. Do it. Now . startles me into action, and I look.
    I close my eyes and think of the spark. Think of Lucy. Of the day she took me shopping in my new car, with my new sunglasses, with the shiny new phone—all things Lucy picked out for me, knowing I would love them.
    I Remember the sound of her laughter, the way her voice fills my heart with sunshine and honey. I Remember the way she holds me.
    She holds me now—not really, but it feels like it. I can feel her arms around me, hear the beat of her heart as surely as if it’s happening.
    And then I feel it.
    There .
    Tears jump to my eyes and a sob cuts through the muck in my throat because it’s there!
    The spark.
    The golden piece of Asgard my mother blessed me with.
    I wrap my soul around it, squeeze it tight. I hug it and hug it and cry and cry.
    I am not lost. At least, when I die, I will know.
    Asgard didn’t leave me.
     

    I have to go now, Lucy says. I look into her eyes, radiating so much light and love—and it’s no longer impossible to look into them.
    “Why?” is all I can think to ask. “I don’t want you to go.”
    I need to tell Odin. Tell Michael.
    “Why?” They can’t rescue me. They can’t even find me. “Can’t you stay with me until I die?”
    Lucy laughs, but Aaron doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t even smile. His mouth is set in a grim line. He’s not shining very much. He’s still touching me, but he’s drifting lower, his forehead nodding toward my shoulder.
    Lucy’s gaze flicks to Aaron, then back to me. Shine, baby. Shine with everything in you. Let the light burn out all the darkness. Let Aaron’s gift make you free.
    “Aaron’s gift?” I don’t want to look at him. His eyes are closed and his skin is pale. “What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he shining?”
    Lucy smiles at Aaron, places her hand on his arm. Her light flares and so does his. I see him take a big breath. He’s shining for you, baby.