Page 35 of Drown Me Gently

Auren’s eyes burned with betrayal. “You had no right.”

“I had duty.”

“Don’t lie. You did it because you can’t stand to see someone else choose me.”

“You’re reckless,” Ulric said, voice detached. “You’ve put the city at risk. I’ve told you time and time again what the surface world does to creatures it finds beautiful. They don’t love. They claim and cage.”

“Like you,” Auren spat.

“Call me whatever you want,” Ulric said, “but I am only your jailor because of your own actions.”

Auren’s tail lashed, restrained by the guards’ grip. “You think this is protection?”

Ulric’s jaw tightened. “You’ve forgotten what danger looks like.”

“I know exactly what danger looks like,” Auren hissed. “It looks like control disguised as care.”

Ulric leaned forward despite himself, and his tentacles flared. “It looks like a city that loses its prince because he mistook greed for desire.”

Auren’s eyes flashed. “No,” he snarled. “It looks like you. The one who left me drowning and pretended it was mercy.”

“I was protecting you,” Ulric growled.

“You don’t dictate who sees me!” Auren shouted, struggling harder now. “I’m not yours to protect!”

Ulric’s mouth opened, then closed. His fists clenched.

You are. You always have been.

But he couldn’t say it.

He couldn’t say anything except, “The Queen has made her decree.”

Auren shook his head, trembling. “You coward.”

“Auren—”

“You could’ve come to me,” Auren whispered, voice ragged. “You could’ve told me what you were feeling. What you were afraid of. But you ran. You always run.”

Ulric’s throat bobbed. “And you chase the first hand that reaches to soothe your blatant need to be wanted.”

That struck harder than he meant it to.

Auren recoiled like he’d been slapped.

“I hate you,” he said, his voice breaking on the last syllable. And it cracked something in Ulric’s bones. His insides roiled, begging him to undo this. To move forward. To say anything that could make it right. But the guards held Auren too tight, and pride held Ulric tighter still.

So he said nothing.

And watched as the prince was held down, and subdued to his cruelty.

“Hold him,” Ulric commanded.

Auren fought them. His tail whipped, crashing into shelves. Vials tumbled and shattered. The scent of crushed herbs and magic burst into the water like blood. Ancient ink hissed as instruments scattered across the floor.

“Enough!” Ulric roared.

The water shook. His tentacles shot out like whips, coiling around Auren’s arms and waist. With his other hand, Ulric reached for the decanter—the one filled with the iridescent blue potion that shimmered like regret.