The entire sweep of the Singing Cove curved below him. Aries was a speck by the cliffside, still bent over seaweed. Clive and Niall were just dots dancing around their canoe. How had he gotten this far, this fast?
The cliffs caught his eye—impossible slabs of stone reaching into the sky. He and Aries had tried to climb them once. No footholds. Too sheer. Somewhere behind one of them, hidden from view, was that freezing pool fed by the narrow waterfall. They’d never found its bottom.
Laughter cut through the wind.
Niall and Clive were nearby, but the distance was difficult to judge. Niall thrashed beside the canoe, trying to flip it, while Clive deflected him with exaggerated splashes.
“What are you waiting for, Collin?!” Niall shouted. “Come help me flip him already!”
Collin laughed and surged forward.
He didn’t get far.
A force yanked at his entire body—hard.
The pull hit like a wall, invisible but undeniable, dragging him backward. His limbs flailed in sudden confusion. It wasn’t just a current. It felt like intention, like something unseen had taken hold. A mind. A hunger.
He paused for a breath—and choked. Saltwater flooded his nose, his mouth, his throat. He sputtered, coughed, tried to right himself.
The canoe had drifted—or maybe he had. The shoreline had shrunk. Fast.
Panic bloomed.
He kicked hard, forcing himself to swim toward shore, but the water fought back. Every stroke felt smaller. The ocean wasn’t letting go.
Fear sharpened into terror.
His breath came in gasps. His arms ached. His legs were going numb. He swallowed another mouthful of saltwater as a wave rolled over his head. He surfaced, barely, sputtering.
God. He was going to drown.
No. No, not yet.
His heart hammered, but not from fear alone. There was still so much he hadn’t done. He hadn’t kissed her—not really. He hadn’t made anything of himself. Not like he promised he would.
He wasn’t ready to die.
“Clive!” he shouted, voice raw and hoarse. “Help!”
He could barely see the canoe. His head dipped below the surface, and the cold clamped down. The sea clawed at him with nails.
“Clive—!”
Collin’s body weighed like rocks. His muscles burned. His chest stung with each ragged breath. Another wave crested.
It hit him clean across the face.
He went under.
Everything turned dark and cold and far away.
Was this it?
Had he fought hard enough?
A pair of hands clamped around Collin’s arm—fingernails digging in, hauling him upward.
His head broke the surface. He gasped, coughing, eyes burning, throat on fire.
