Page 69 of Drown Me Gently

“I’m fine,” Ulric mumbled, voice slurred. “Just… too much wine.”

Auren pulled back, mouth set in a firm line. “No, you’re not fine,” he said fiercely. “You can’t keep brushing this off. You can’t keep lying to me. Something’s wrong.”

Ulric’s eyelids fell closed for a long moment, as if the very weight of them was too much.

When he opened them again, he managed a faint smile. “You’re worrying too much, spriteling.”

“I’m not,” Auren insisted, heart pounding painfully in his chest. “Your tattoos are disappearing. You’re getting weaker. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Ulric didn’t answer. Didn’t deny it. Just reached up and brushed the back of his knuckles along Auren’s cheek, a gesture so tender it sent fear racing down his spine.

Why does his every move feel like a goodbye?

Auren blinked back tears and whispered, “Ulric… if we must return to Atlantis, we can. Who says we can’t come back here, once you’re strong again? Being away from the sea is taking a toll on you. Please don’t do this for me.”

Ulric averted his eyes, hand dropping to the blankets, jaw chewing on words unspoken. Auren’s heart twisted painfully because he knew what that silence meant.

It meant the moment they returned to the sea, everything would change, or rather, would go back to what it used to be. Ulric would become the Court Sorcerer again. Bound by duty. Bound by oaths. Bound by everything that had kept them apart for so long.

And Auren would lose him.

He would swim the same corridors, but Auren would not be allowed to touch him. Not as he had here. Auren would carry the memory of Ulric’s kiss, the feel of his arms, the taste of his breath—but he would carry it in silence.

He would know the secret weight of Ulric’s love while the rest of the world only saw the cold, dutiful sorcerer. He would know the warmth of him, the wonder of him, the softness he showed no one else⁠—

And yet be unable to touch.

Unable to call Ulric his anywhere but in the secret places of his heart.

Ulric must have seen the fear in his eyes because he pulled Auren close again, pressing a lingering kiss to his brow.

“Let’s not dwell on what comes after,” Ulric said quietly. His arms wrapped around Auren, so similar to the weight of his tentacles below the waves. “I’m here. We still have time.”

Auren squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to believe it.

“Okay,” he whispered, even though it hurt. Even though it tasted like lying to himself.

Ulric kissed him again, slower this time. Full of sorrow and heat and a kind of love that burned even as it bloomed.

Auren kissed him back, clinging to him like he could keep him from slipping away.

For now, it was enough.

But somewhere deep inside, a clock started ticking.

And Auren didn’t know how much time they had left.

The day passed in a strange sort of haze.

Auren tried to push the morning’s fear aside, tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, but the image of Ulric lying so still haunted him. He should have pressed. Should have demanded answers. But one look at Ulric’s weary smile, one lingering kiss pressed to his hairline, and all Auren could do was cling to the precious present they still had.

So he followed Ulric out into the world again, their footsteps winding through the now-familiar town.

Ulric’s coin flowed as freely as ever, the merchants calling greetings, pressing treats and trinkets into Auren’s hands. They walked, talked, and still Auren watched. Watched the way Ulric’s steps faltered every so often. The way his smile dimmed when he thought Auren wasn’t looking. The way there was no color in his cheeks.

Something was wrong.

And it was getting worse.