Waves of Desire

Chapter 1: The Drowning

Isabella’s POV

There are moments in life when the world changes in a blink of an eye, and you’re left wondering how everything could so swiftly fall apart. As I sit here, looking out at the calm ocean, it is difficult to comprehend that less than a day ago, it was a maelstrom, one that nearly took my life.

The day had begun like any other in the languid heat of a Floridian summer, the sun casting its golden rays upon the shore, luring me out from the safety of my cottage. There was something about the sound of the waves that always called to me, soothing the disquiet that had grown within me over the last few months. If ever there was a constant in my life, it was the sea.

I had walked along the shore, the water lapping at my ankles as the sand sifted beneath my feet, contemplating the endless decisions that loomed over my future. The weight of them had become too much to carry on my own. There was my career, which had stalled so spectacularly that even thinking about it made my chest tight. Then there were matters of the heart, which I had tucked away carefully—too painful to confront but too raw to ignore entirely.

The sky had been clear when I waded into the water, craving the cool embrace of the ocean. I had swum farther than I usually did, carried by a strange sense of freedom, as though the sea might wash away all that troubled me. And then, without warning, everything changed.

It is astonishing how quickly the weather can turn. In a matter of moments, the sky darkened, the wind howled, and the waves began to churn violently. What had been a peaceful swim suddenly became a fight for my life. The current dragged me out farther and farther, every stroke of my arms growing more futile against the force of the ocean.

I remember the feeling of panic—the way my chest tightened as I struggled to keep my head above water. Each time I was dragged under, the saltwater filled my mouth, burning my throat and lungs as I fought for air. My arms grew weak, my legs useless in the battle against the surging waves. I remember thinking that this was how it ended, that after everything I had survived, it would be the ocean that took me.

And then, just as the darkness began to close in, there was a hand. A hand that slipped into mine, pulling me up with a strength I could not explain.

I gasped for air as I broke the surface, the sky still swirling above me, the waves crashing against us with a fury that seemed to belong to some angry deity. But she was there—whoever she was. Her hand clutched mine with such certainty, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I felt the possibility of survival.

I was too weak to question how she had found me or who she even was. I could barely form words, let alone comprehend the sight before me. She moved through the water with ease, her body cutting through the waves as though they were mere ripples. Her long, dark hair floated around her like a halo, her eyes—an unnatural shade of blue—shimmering even in the storm. I remember thinking she looked like a creature from myth, like something too beautiful and too wild to be human.

She didn’t speak. She simply pulled me through the water, guiding me toward the shore with a strength that seemed impossible. I clung to her, my limbs weak and useless, every ounce of my energy spent just trying to keep breathing. When my feet finally touched the sand, I collapsed, falling to my knees in the shallow water, my entire body trembling from the ordeal.

She let me go the moment we reached the shore, stepping back as though her task had been completed. I looked up, my vision blurred with exhaustion and disbelief, and saw her standing there, the rain pouring down around us. She watched me for a moment, her expression unreadable, and I opened my mouth to speak—to thank her, to ask her who she was, to say anything—but no words came. And before I could collect my thoughts, she turned and walked back into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves as though she had never existed at all.