Page 32 of Drown Me Gently

Auren didn’t have time to scream.

One moment he was alone in the water, and the next, his back slammed into stone, the impact knocking the breath from his gills. Tentacles wrapped around him in an instant, like coiling serpents. One clamped tightly around his torso, trapping his arms at his sides. Another looped around his throat—not enough to choke, but enough to hold. A third slithered up his chest and latched around his hips with an unforgiving grip.

Auren lost track of how many limbs gripped him. As he was about to cry out, another wrapped over his mouth, thick and rubbery. The suction cups clung to his skin, pinching, pulling, as if the strength of the coils wasn’t enough.

He thrashed wildly, tail whipping against the rock. But the grip didn’t loosen. It only held him tighter. Then the darkness shifted, and a face materialized from the inky gloom.

Ulric.

His eyes glowed like volcanic glass still cooling. It was powerful and furious and… Auren went still as he named the uncharacteristic glint in those eyes, the angle of his thick brows.

It was desperation.

Auren’s breath heaved against the tentacle across his mouth. Heart pounding like a war drum, strong enough that he knew Ulric must feel it. The sorcerer glared down at him, jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped in his cheek. The sharp line of his beard framed a mouth drawn in a grim line. His hair was partially pulled back, the rest loose in dark waves. Moonlight from above filtered through the cracks in the rock, dappling his face with shifting light.

Fury tightened every line of him, but underneath that? A hunger Auren dared not acknowledge. He couldn’t.

Ulric’s body was taut to the point of snapping—a weapon held at bay by a single strand of snail-silk. And yet the way his tentacles wrapped around Auren told a different story. It was tight, yes, but not painful.

The tentacles looped around him again and again. It wasn’t necessary—Auren couldn’t have moved if he tried—but Ulric still wrapped more of himself around Auren’s shape. Possessively. Like some part of him couldn’t help it. Slick and strong, curling with the kind of strength that could crush pearls or snap bones.

But they didn’t.

And for a maddening moment, Auren didn’t want to escape. Not yet. Not when it felt like Ulric’s very soul was unraveling between them. Not when he could feel every inch of heat between their bodies. The sorcerer’s skin against his. The strength in his tentacles. The thrum of a Kraken’s magic. It called to the magic still dormant in his blood.

Ulric didn’t speak, but he was so close Auren could feel the shake in his breath as it ghosted across his cheek, making the small hairs on his jaw rise. His scent was everywhere—black water and volcanic stone. Heat and brine. Familiarity and… want.

There it was, curling at the base of his spine and betraying him.

Ulric was too close. So close, Auren could see the uneven line where his beard faded toward his neck. Could see the glimmer of a scar just under his collarbone.

And gods help him… Auren wanted to be even closer.

He wanted to lean in just a little and feel the scratch of Ulric’s beard against his cheek. To feel those powerful arms—not tentacles—wrap around him and never let go. His stupid, traitorous heart still ached for what had been denied.

“You have to stop this,” Ulric growled. His voice was hoarse, scraped raw. “I’ve let it go on too long. You’re taking too many risks.”

Auren struggled, and the grip on his body eased enough for him to shove free. He smacked away the appendages.

“So now you care?” Auren snapped. “Now, after all this time?”

Ulric’s expression twisted. “I never stopped.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I had to. I had to get away before⁠—”

“Before what?” Auren interrupted, eyes burning. “Before your reputation was tarnished? Before I embarrass you by existing?”

Ulric’s eyes darkened. “You don’t understand⁠—”

“No, you don’t understand!” Auren shouted. “You don’t get to wrap yourself around me like I’m yours and then vanish into the black. You don’t get to show up after all those nights I waited for you and act like I’m the one who’s wrong!”

Ulric’s eyes flashed. “You have no idea what this is doing to me.”

His voice was rough and frayed at the edges. Then, he moved. No more shouting. No more anger. Just the sound of their breathing in the water. He closed the space like someone approaching a wounded creature—aching to touch, terrified to be bitten.

Auren’s chest rose and fell with shallow, panicked gulps of water, gills fluttering. His body screamed to back away, but he didn’t.