The Singing Cove #2
After several minutes of hard swimming, Collin stopped to catch his breath. He treaded water, letting his limbs float loose for a moment. When he turned toward shore, his breath caught—not from exhaustion, but surprise.
He’d gone farther than he meant to.
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.
Niall—face pale, wild with fear. “Are you alright?”
Before Collin could answer, another wave crashed over them, but this time he didn’t go under. He couldn’t speak—his chest heaved with raw, painful breaths—but he met Niall’s eyes. That was enough. They weren’t going down without each other.
Far off, Clive was still paddling, arms slicing the air, his mouth open in a shout they couldn’t hear. The canoe was moving—too slow, too far.
Niall was shaking now, his teeth clicking audibly. “It’s not just a current,” he rasped. “It feels like a giant hand—pulling us out!”
Collin grit his teeth. “We have to swim.”
They turned and kicked toward the shore.
The sea disagreed.
Every stroke was met with resistance. Collin’s body shivered violently in the freezing water, his limbs growing heavy with every second. The shoreline remained impossibly far, a distant blur. No matter how hard he fought, the sea dragged him farther.
Another wave surged. It hit like a wall, slamming into them and swallowing them whole.
Collin surfaced—but Niall didn’t.
“No!” Collin shouted, his voice cracked and ragged. He latched onto Niall’s arm and held on, screaming again—not just from fear, but to drown out the pounding in his head. “Help! Clive!”
From the distance, Clive was shouting too, his voice warped by wind and wave.
Keep breathing. Keep swimming.
Niall was limp in his grip. The sea roared around them, endless and deafening. Collin’s chest burned. His arms trembled. His vision blurred from salt and exhaustion.
And then—
A cry cut through the chaos in his head.
“Collin!”
It struck like lightning—Aries’s voice, sharp and terrified.
Collin turned toward the sound. Through the spray, he saw Aries—swimming fast, reckless, determined. Fear carved into every line of his face.
And he wasn’t alone.
Beside him was a man with a mop of straw-yellow hair, cutting through the water like he was born in it. There was no time to wonder who he was or where he came from.
They were hope—alive and barreling through the water.
Collin gritted his teeth, wrapped both arms tighter around Niall, and started kicking again. If he could just get Niall to Aries—just far enough—
They might all make it out.
“Stop fighting the current!” Aries shouted, grabbing Collin’s arm.
“Niall’s too weak!”
Aries’s companion—still nameless, still surging through the water like it meant nothing—reached for Niall. “I’ve got him!” the man yelled. “You can let go! Just swim parallel to the shore, alright?”
Parallel? What the hell good would that do?
The cold had already stripped Collin of strength. Clive was still a dot on the horizon. They needed the shortest path back. They needed land. Not some sideways slog through open sea.
He turned stubbornly toward the beach.
“No, Collin! Not that way!” Aries roared, voice cracking. “Just do it!”
“Listen to me!” the stranger yelled again, already moving with Niall. “It’s a rip current—you have to swim sideways to get out!”
Collin heard the words. He just couldn’t hold on to them. Everything was scrambled—his mind, his limbs, even the rhythm of his breath. He kicked half-heartedly, but nothing worked. Fine. Let Aries drag him. Let someone else figure it out. He just had to keep his head above water.
Then, strangely—miraculously—the pull lessened.
The water stopped clawing at him like a starving beast. The waves still crashed, but they weren’t dragging him out anymore.
He blinked, dazed. Was that really all it took?
He tried to swim on his own again, but his muscles were shot. Aries hauled him awkwardly through the last stretch of water, grunting with effort. Collin could barely lift his arms, but he let himself be dragged. He followed, because he had no other choice.
And then—his feet touched earth.
He stumbled forward, half-carried by the waves, and dropped to his knees. Sand shifted beneath his hands. He clutched it like it was holy. His lungs convulsed, and he hacked up seawater, salt and bile scorching his throat.
Clive’s canoe skidded to a halt nearby. He leapt over the side and splashed through the ankle-deep tide. “Niall!”
“He’s not breathing,” Collin rasped, voice raw around a mouthful of salt. His limbs were lead. His knees gave out, and he crumpled to the sand. Coughs racked his chest—saltwater, air, more salt. The sand stuck to his skin like a second chance.
I’m alive. The words pulsed in his skull like a heartbeat. I’m alive.
Aries grabbed him by the arms, yanking him upright. Together they staggered over to where Niall lay, still and pale, his soaked curls plastered to his forehead. The stranger knelt beside him, sleeves soaked, jaw set.
Clive dropped hard into the sand, shaking. Collin collapsed next to him, dazed and aching.
They needed help—but they were too far from anyone, too deep in the wilderness.
Except—this man.
Without hesitation, the stranger placed both palms on Niall’s chest, one over the other, and began compressions.
He counted out loud—low, even, focused. After ten, he tilted Niall’s head, pinched his nose, and breathed air into his mouth.
Then back to the compressions. Again and again.
His pace steady. His expression unwavering.
Time unraveled beneath the shadow of the Singing Cove.
The roar of the ocean faded, dulled by collective fear. The only sound was the stranger’s voice, counting. The only movement, his hands pressing rhythm into Niall’s still chest. The only breath, his own, refusing to let Niall slip away.
Collin counted along in his head. He breathed when the stranger breathed. He couldn’t look away.
And then—after what felt like hours or maybe forever—Niall’s chest lurched violently. He gagged, coughed, hacked. The sound tore through the silence like sunlight splitting storm clouds.
The stranger pulled him upright. Niall doubled over, retching saltwater from his lungs.
Clive burst into sobs—uncontrolled, helpless, grateful. His hands trembled as he reached for his brother, half-laughing, half-crying.
Collin let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and pushed the dripping hair out of his eyes. Relief flooded him—but relief didn’t cover it. It was something enormous, something electric. Everything was alright. Niall was alright.
Beside them, the stranger gave Niall a firm pat on the back. “Breathe deep,” he said, gentle but firm. “Slow and steady. That’s it.”
Clive blinked up at him, wide-eyed. And then—without warning—he threw his arms around the man in a soaking-wet embrace. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you—for saving my brother!”
The stranger gave Clive an awkward pat on the back, his soaked yellow hair still dripping onto his shoulders. Water ran in thin lines down his cheeks, and when he looked at Collin and Aries, his grin was bashful beneath the wet curtain of hair.
Aries, still catching his breath, broke the silence with a hoarse edge. “Alright, Clive”—he nudged him gently—“let him go so we can figure out who he actually is.”
Collin cleared his throat. Sand still clung to the back of his tongue. “What’s your name?”
The young man straightened and offered a sheepish smile. “Logan.”