Page 7 of Drown Me Gently

“Oh gods. Oh gods, what did I just— Did that really just⁠—”

His mind swirled in a haze of adrenaline, and he didn’t stop until Iska rose beneath him, letting him cling to her side.

Neither spoke—not in clicks, or words.

And together, they disappeared into the dark.

Back to the reef.

Back to the cave.

Back to thoughts that would not settle.

Auren was so preoccupied, so shaken, so enamored with the silk treasure in his hands that he swam headfirst into something solid upon returning to his cave. He recoiled, pushing back with a startled breath.

Ulric hovered, arms crossed, taking up more space than the small chamber could spare. The Sorcerer conjured blue flames trapped in bubbles that cast a ghostly light over everything. His tentacles fanned out, exploring the stone shelves, as though each appendage could think for itself.

Of course. Of course, he found me.

“You’re trespassing,” Auren said stiffly, even though it was his voice that cracked.

Ulric’s brow lifted. “I could say the same.”

Auren’s jaw clenched, the silk scarf still clutched tight in his fist. “You followed me.”

“I followed the gaping hole you kicked in the wall.” His gaze moved over Auren, noting the scrapes on his shoulder. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Auren muttered, waving his tail and swimming deeper into the cave. This was the only place that ever felt like his. Anger simmered to a rolling boil in Auren’s stomach. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re not supposed to be above the tide line,” Ulric snapped, voice slicing sharper than a bladefish’s fin. “You know the law. We don’t breach the surface. You’ve put yourself in danger. Again.”

“Spare me the lecture, old man.”

Ulric’s form darkened, and several of his tentacles flexed, muscles coiling and expanding. His presence filled the space like a rapidly rising tide. “You think this is a game? If the Queen finds out you’ve been going above⁠—”

“She won’t. Not unless you run to her.”

Ulric’s nostrils flared, and a few strands of his long, dark hair came loose from the whale bone clasp on the back of his head. “You think I want to? You think I enjoy playing watchdog while you go chasing sailors like a lovesick selkie?”

The words hit like a slap.

Auren turned, eyes flashing. “You don’t know what it’s like up there.”

“I don’t care what it’s like up there.”

“You should!” Auren shouted. “Because I do! Because I feel different up there, Ulric—I feel… lighter. Like I’m not just some spare prince that no one wants.”

Ulric stared at him, unmoving.

“And you,” Auren continued, voice trembling, “you’ve been chasing me back into this palace like I’m a misbehaving guppy.”

“I was ordered to protect you.”

“From what?” Auren gestured wildly. “From barnacles? From a breeze? From myself?”

“From the surface,” Ulric said. “From making the same mistakes your ancestors did. From being seen by the kind of men who would take you apart, just to watch you scream.”

“They wouldn’t⁠—”