Page 61 of Drown Me Gently

But Ulric said nothing.

If anything, he seemed as reluctant to leave as Auren was. And Auren, selfishly, wasn’t about to question it. If the Fates were kind enough to grant him more time, he would hoard it.

He would make it last forever.

Their wandering took them past stalls of baked goods, salted meats, and colorful woven cloths. A burst of childish laughter snagged his attention. There, in the square, a puppet theater was in the middle of a show. Small children sat cross-legged on the cobblestones, their faces alight with glee as they watched tiny wooden figures dance across a miniature stage. Bright colors. Clanging swords. Wooden dragons breathing ribbons of smoke.

Auren hovered on the edge, enchanted. When a puppet vanquished another with a clumsy wooden sword, Auren lowered himself onto an empty stump among the children, utterly rapt.

He didn’t even notice Ulric standing back, arms crossed and smiling faintly.

The entire performance passed in a blur of wonder—heroes and dragons, evil wizards and princesses cleverer than the kings who ruled them. And when it ended, Auren was almost reluctant to rise, blinking as if waking from a dream.

Ulric pressed coins into the performers’ palms as they packed up their tiny stage.

“You enjoyed that,” Ulric said, a note of pleasant surprise in his voice.

Auren flushed. “Maybe a little.”

Ulric chuckled low in his chest. “Good. That gives me an idea.”

Auren perked up. “What idea?”

But Ulric only leaned in, his breath hot against Auren’s ear, sending a shiver racing down his arms.

“It’s a surprise, spriteling.”

That night, they dined under the stars in an open-air pavilion strung with lanterns. The food was hearty and strange—soups thick with root vegetables and spices Auren couldn’t name but devoured without question. His body was starved, not just for nourishment, but for life.

But he was distracted, and it wasn’t by the soup.

Ulric sat across from him, relaxed in a linen shirt open at the throat, revealing the broad, bronzed expanse of his chest dusted with dark hair. His strong jaw was shadowed by scruff, and his long black hair was tied back with his signature whalebone clasp, a few strands falling free to frame his face.

Auren was so taken by the sight of him that he kept dropping his spoon into the soup and had to stick his fingers in to fish it out. The lanternlight painted Ulric’s skin in deep, honeyed tones, and Auren knew that the heat pooling low in his belly had absolutely nothing to do with the stew. He had to take several deep, calming breaths before they rose to leave to avoid embarrassing himself.

The walk back to the house was a blur. Neither of them spoke. Tension crackled between them, like pine nuts popping in a fire. All of it came to a rapid crescendo the second they reached the door.

They barely made it inside.

The door slammed shut behind them, and⁠—

Ulric’s mouth was on him.

Dragging across his jaw, down the column of his throat. The Kraken’s stubble scraped against Auren’s sensitive skin, setting every nerve on fire. Ulric kissed a spot, just behind Auren’s ear, and licked the curve of his ear lobe. Auren gasped, clutching his shoulders as warmth flooded him so fast it was dizzying.

Ulric pulled back enough to rasp, “Sensitive there?”

Auren blushed. “I-I think so.”

“Good.” Ulric’s wicked smile promised delights Auren was not ready for.

Ulric’s hands moved over him, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, sliding his broad palm up his belly to rest against his bare chest.

“Is this okay?” he murmured.

Auren nodded, breathless.

“Does this feel good?”