Page 99 of The Bleak Beginning

Water you don’t know how to swim in.My mind chimes in with a reminder. I shake my head, trying to silence the intrusive thoughts. I’ve come this far. I can’t back out now.

Slowly, I peel off my outer layers, leaving them in a messy pile by the pool’s edge. The draft raises goosebumps on my exposed skin, making me shiver. Or maybe it’s the fear. I can’t tell anymore.

I sit down, letting my legs dangle in the water. It’s surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the chill in the air outside. I take another deep breath, trying to focus on the sensation of the water lapping at my calves, rather than the panic rising in my chest.

“You can do this,” I whisper to myself, my voice echoing softly in the empty natatorium.

I grip the edge of the pool tightly, my knuckles turning white. Slowly, I lower myself into the water. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage. I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, fighting the urge to scramble back onto dry land.

“One step at a time,” I murmur to myself.

The water envelops me, rising to my neck as I cling to the edge. The warmth is comforting, almost like an embrace, but the emptiness beneath my feet sends a shiver through me.

Keeping one hand on the edge, I cautiously let go with the other, allowing my body to float slightly. The sensation is both freeing and terrifying. I close my eyes, focusing on the gentle movement of the water around me.

Suddenly, a splash echoes through the natatorium. My eyes snap open, and I instinctively grab the edge with both handsagain. Scanning the water’s surface, I see ripples spreading from the far end of the pool.

“Hello?” I call out, my voice wavering. No response.

My heart rate spikes again, and I consider hauling myself out of the pool. But curiosity gets the better of me. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and slowly begin to edge along the pool’s perimeter, keeping my hands firmly on the border.

As I move, the water pushes against me, making each advance feel like an eternity. The splash repeats, closer this time. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. In the dim light, I can just make out a dark shape moving beneath the surface, gliding effortlessly through the water.

“Who’s there?” I call out again.

The shape pauses, then changes direction, heading straight for me. Panic overwhelms me, and I scramble to pull myself out of the pool. But my wet hands slip on the tile, and I splash back into the water.

A strong arm wraps around my waist, and I let out a muffled scream as bubbles escape from my mouth. Underwater, fear and panic take over.

I’m pulled up, breaking the surface with a gasp. Coughing and sputtering, I struggle against the arm still holding me.

“Easy there,” a familiar voice says. “I’ve got you.”

I blink water from my eyes, my vision clearing. “Sylvester?” I cough as he continues to tread water effortlessly, keeping us both afloat, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.

“Let go of me,” I demand, trying to wriggle my way free. I don’t need help from a Legacy. For all I know he’ll try to drown me just for a laugh.

Sylvester’s grip tightens. “Not until you calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself thrashing around like that.”

I glare at him but stop struggling. The water laps gently around us, the only sound in the otherwise silent pool. I’macutely aware of his arm still wrapped around my waist, the heat of his skin against mine.

“I’m fine. Just let me go.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Okay, if you insist.”

Shit.

A glint sparks in his eyes, and a wave of regret washes over me. With a swift movement, he drags us to the center of the deep water, and my body freezes in fear before thrashing wildly against his grasp. His arm tightens around me, trapping me in his hold once more. “I told you to hold still,” he growls, a hint of sadistic pleasure in his voice as I struggle against him.

“What are you even doing here?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. Midnight swims don’t exactly seem like your cup of tea, Alex.”

I glower at him. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Sylvester’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. “You’re shaking,” he observes. “And you’re a terrible liar.”

I open my mouth to protest, but the words die in my throat. He’s right, and we both know it. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me trembling in the water.

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