DASH

No sign of Elyse yet.

One fucking hour staring into the dark water, and... nothing.

I slumped against the tree, hands buried in my hair, eyes fixed on the growing crowd along the shore. Partygoers, police, two lifeguards, and the boys — all of them searching, calling her name.

"It’s my fault," I whispered.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I killed my mate. Eli was right. I destroyed everything I touched.

The image of her lifeless body floating on the water slammed into me again — hair drifting like white feathers, face too still, too peaceful.

"I’m sorry," I murmured, shaking my head hard. I tried to shove the vision away, but it only grew sharper, more vivid.

My panic twisted tighter in my chest.

I pushed up from the ground, a sudden, restless urge to rip my shirt off clawing at me. I didn’t. Everyone was watching. I already looked crazy enough.

"Ask him," Kol’s voice carried sharply through the night.

I glanced to my right. He was talking to one of the policemen, index finger pointed straight at me.

"He’s the one who tossed her into the water even after we told him not to," Kol added with a low growl.

The officer — a burly, bald man — looked my way, nodded at Kol’s words, and scribbled something in his notepad.

Kol’s eyes blazed when they locked onto mine. "After you’re done interrogating him, I’m going to kill him."

The promise in his voice was ice-cold. He sounded like he meant every word. I swallowed and looked away. His threats didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was Elyse and where the hell she was.

"I’m Detective Brandon Ortiz, and this is my partner, Mary Brains," the officer said, nodding toward the blonde woman in the black pantsuit beside him.

I barely glanced at her before focusing back on him.

"State your name," he ordered.

I hesitated for a second, then decided it wasn’t worth fighting. "Dash," I muttered. "Dashiell Armstrong."

He scribbled quickly, then fixed me with a steady stare.

"Date of birth?"

"February 16."

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

"What happened?" he finally asked.

Where the hell was I even supposed to start? And wasn’t this the part where I should shut up and ask for a lawyer?

How the fuck do all these legal things even work?

"Mr. Armstrong," the detective said, impatience deepening his tone.

"She fell in the water," I murmured.

"She fell... or you threw her in?" He raised one brow.

I stayed silent.

"Where exactly did she fall, and how long has it been?"

"Just a few meters from the shore," I answered.

"How long?"

I shrugged.

"Did you see her come up? Did anyone? And can she swim?"

Something pulled in my chest at the memory of her voice calling for me. I’d thought she was joking. I’d been sure she could swim. That she was just trying to mess with me so I’d jump in after her.

"Yes or no?" the detective snapped, yanking me back. "Can she swim?"

"No," I whispered.

He let out a disbelieving scoff, eyes stabbing into me like daggers. "You threw someone who can’t swim into a twenty-five-foot-deep lake?!"

I said nothing.

I couldn’t. The blame sat heavy on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have endangered her. Now she was probably dead because of me.

"Where is my daughter?!"

I spun around. Whitney was sprinting toward the water, her husband hurrying after her. Before she could reach the edge, Kol caught her around the waist and pulled her back.

"Where is my she?!" she cried, voice raw with anguish. "What happened to her? Let me in the water!"

"That won’t be possible, ma’am," Kol grunted, holding her firmly.

Whitney struggled against him, but he didn’t let go. Eventually her legs gave out and she dropped to her knees, dragging Kol down with her. He stayed on the sand beside her, arms around her as she broke down sobbing.

"How long has it been, and why hasn’t anyone found her yet?" Steven demanded of one of the divers.

"Two people are in there right now," Lance answered, coming from behind them.

"And no one has been able to find her yet," Steven scoffed. "Pathetic!"

"I have a solution."

I winced as Eli forced our link back open. He was restless, pushy, and radiating pure fury.

"Jump in," he urged.

I pretended not to hear him, staring blankly at the black water, wondering how deep and how far Elyse had sunk.

"That is our mate, you stupid prick!" he roared, fury flooding my veins like fire. "Your only saving grace in this pathetic fucking life—"

My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. I bit back the flood of vicious curses sitting on my tongue — the kind that might actually reach the goddess if she ever bothered to listen to my prayers.

"Just fucking go in and find her!"

"No," I muttered under my breath.

"No?" Eli’s voice dropped into something dangerously low and cold.

"For all I know, she’s already dead," I replied.

"You selfish little bastard!" he thundered, slamming against the inside of my chest with brutal force. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs.

I gasped, clutching at my sternum as he kept ramming forward, over and over, wild with rage.

When he finally exhausted himself, he stopped, panting and pacing inside me like a caged animal.

I wanted to scream at him to shut the hell up. I already knew it was my fault. The guilt was eating me alive. I didn’t need his voice adding to it.

And him demanding I throw myself in there to die with her? That was too far.

"If you don’t find her," Eli said, suddenly deadly calm, "I’m going to sever every tie with you. I’ll watch you lose your mind... and then I’ll reject you completely."

A chill crawled down my spine. Fresh panic spiked through me, but I shoved it down hard.

My gaze stayed locked on the ground. Eli had done it before. It wasn’t an empty threat. And by the goddess, I wasn’t ready to spiral into that level of madness again.

"Are you going to do it or—"

"We found her!" One of the lifeguards’ triumphant yell shattered the heavy air.

My eyes widened. My heart thumped against my ribs as I stared desperately toward the water.

The two lifeguards emerged from the dark lake, breathing hard, carrying a limp, dripping Elyse between them.

Her head lolled lifelessly, wet hair plastered across her pale face, arms hanging like dead weight.