Page 29 of Drown Me Gently (Flipped Fairytales)

Rich emerald, the exact hue of his scales.

It gleamed in the light, threaded with subtle metallic accents that caught and shifted with his every breath.

It looped over one shoulder only, the opposite side tucked beneath his arm in a clever asymmetry that made it feel more like armor than fashion.

Heavy ropes bound it to his body, crossing in intricate knots along his ribs, while polished metal clasps bit into the thick material, holding it firm.

The weight of it surprised Auren, another testament to the rich quality of the cloth.

Auren ran his hand over the fabric, half in awe.

The color. The feel. It was like wearing a memory.

Like his past self was stitched into the seams and tied around him.

Auren flushed as he caught Ulric’s gaze lingering a little too long at his hips, a look so openly hungry it made Auren’s knees threaten to buckle.

And Ulric?—

Fucking gods have mercy

Ulric was dressed in all black, fitted to every hard inch of his powerful body. The high collar and silver fastenings only made him look more dangerous, more untouchable.

And Auren wanted very much to touch .

As they were about to leave, Ulric said, “Wait. One more thing.”

Auren turned, and Ulric pulled the whalebone pin from his hair, letting the black waves tumble around his broad shoulders. He stepped forward and gently pinned it in Auren’s hair instead, his fingers brushing the back of Auren’s neck.

“I like to see you in something of mine,” Ulric murmured, inspecting him with a sweep of his dark eyes. “It’s not as nice as… well, the other gift you’ve worn. But I hope you’ll wear it.”

The vulnerability in those black eyes, as though Ulric didn’t know if Auren would accept such a humble gift, made his heart squeeze. Auren leaned in, standing on tip-toe to place a chaste kiss on the Kraken’s cheek.

“I’ll cherish it.”

They made their way further into the city, and as the buildings grew more elaborate, Auren’s excitement mounted. Marble facades, high sweeping arches, intricate carvings of horses, gods, and sea creatures twined around stone pillars. It faintly reminded him of home.

Finally, they reached a grand structure, its entrance flanked by tall statues of muses draped in flowing robes.

The Royal Theater.

They queued in line behind a scattering of elegantly dressed couples, Auren craning his neck to take it all in. The wide velvet banners, the way music floated from inside.

But Ulric shifted, dropping Auren’s hand.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Stay here,” he said, suddenly stepping away and disappearing into the crowd.

His hand grabbed the satchel at his waist, and Auren’s stomach twisted at the shake in his fingers.

Ulric looked ready to be sick as he dashed behind a corner, shoving a few passersby out of the way.

Auren frowned, noting the bout of dizziness.

It was the second time that day. Ulric was going to take another one of his tonics to ease the discomfort and didn’t want Auren to see.

Auren fought the urge to follow, regardless of Ulric and his stubborn pride.

But he kept his feet planted, stepping forward as the queue grew shorter.

A few moments later, Auren sensed a presence step behind him. A man in a velvet coat sauntered up, far too close, his smile oily.

“Well,” the man drawled, raking his eyes over Auren with a lasciviousness that made his skin crawl. “Aren’t you a sight? You a performer tonight, pretty thing? I’d very much like to see you… perform.”

Auren blinked, confused. “I’m just watching,” he said carefully.

“Oh, shame,” the man murmured. “Still, the night is young. Perhaps after the show, you’d like a private stage? I’m very accommodating.”

Before Auren could respond, a shadow fell over them both.

The Kraken’s hand slid around Auren’s waist, pulling him possessively close, his fingers splaying over the curve of his back where the corset cinched him tight.

“He’s already spoken for,” Ulric said, voice lethal. “And he has no need for lesser stages when he already performs for a Lord.”

The man lifted his hands in surrender, though the glint in his eyes remained daring. “I didn’t know this man belonged to anyone.”

“He doesn’t,” Ulric said, his mouth curving in a dangerous smile. “He chooses to stay exactly where he is.”

The man’s gaze snapped to where Ulric’s hand gripped Auren’s waist.

“And you are?” the man challenged.

Ulric’s grip tightened just enough to make Auren’s breath catch.

“His Lord,” Ulric said, sharp as a dagger’s kiss. “And if you value your tongue, you won’t use it to make any more suggestions.”

For a moment, silence pulsed between the three of them. Then the man chuckled, stepping back with a graceful bow.

“My mistake.”

Ulric didn’t wait for more. He guided Auren away without another word, his touch searing through the layers of cloth. As they left, he leaned down and growled into Auren’s ear, “I leave you for one minute, and the sharks descend. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. And lucky for you,” Auren murmured with a sly smile, “it would take a hell of a lot more than a shark to subdue me.”

“How about a Kraken?” Ulric suggested.

“That is yet to be seen,” Auren teased.

Ulric laughed and slipped his hand beneath the cape and pinched Auren’s ass hard enough to make him jolt. Auren gave him a playful smack as the ma?tre d’ called them forward.

The ticket master held out his hand. “Passes?”

Ulric tossed him a heavy pouch of coin without blinking. “This will suffice.”

But the man frowned, shifting awkwardly. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but this is a private event —ticket holders only.”

Ulric’s smile disappeared. Auren opened his mouth to suggest they leave, but Ulric held up a hand, cool and composed.

“Does my coin not satisfy?” he said, voice sharp. “Here, then.”

He reached into his pack again and tossed another pouch—heavier this time. The metallic clink when it landed drew stares.

“You’ll find no coppers there.”

The man blanched, hands fumbling as he inspected the weight.

“I—I—” he stammered. “Be that as it may, my Lord, this event is for couples only . You and your companion would each need to return with a lady and?—”

Ulric cut him off, lifting their joined hands into the light, Auren’s fingers firmly clasped in his.

“This is my husband,” Ulric said.

Auren’s heart jumped. He turned his head quickly to hide the way his face flamed.

The man stared between them, visibly floundering. “I…I wasn’t aware the law allowed for two?—”

“Two what ?” Ulric snapped, voice dropping dangerously low.

Before the man could finish that thought, another usher elbowed him sharply. He stumbled and cleared his throat.

“Just—just put them through!” he barked at the boy manning the velvet rope. “Balcony, west side. No one comes or goes.”

“R-right this way,” the mousy boy said, and blushed when Auren offered him a grateful smile as they passed.

“What was that about?” Auren asked as they were led down a carpet-lined hallway.

“Human nonsense. Prejudices over same-sex mating.”

Auren cocked a brow. “They don’t allow for couples like that? But…”

Piercing sky blue eyes returned to the forefront of his mind like the sting of a lionfish’s quill. Elias had pursued him and…

“Of course they do. But privately. It’s nothing for us to worry about. Don’t let it bother you, Auren.”

The sound of his name coming from Ulric’s mouth snapped him back to the present, and he squeezed the Kraken’s hand in gratitude.

The busboy led them up a sweeping staircase, while glittering chandeliers reflected the shimmering threads in their clothes.

The theater was breathtaking.

Scarlet drapes pooled from the ceiling like blood poured from a goblet, framing the wide stage in heavy, velvet folds. Every chair gleamed with lacquered wood and plush crimson cushions. Ornate crystal chandeliers threw pools of honeyed light across the audience below.

The boy who had escorted them led them not to the rows of seating, but up a winding staircase to a private balcony.

Their view was perfect. High enough to see the whole stage, yet intimate, removed from the bustling crowd.

Thick velvet curtains draped each side, hiding them from the adjacent balconies.

Auren could hear other guests settling in—the muffled rustle of clothing, soft bursts of laughter—but he couldn’t see them unless he leaned precariously over the edge. It was all very, very private.

Auren pressed closer to the railing in excitement, pointing eagerly at the stage as an orchestra settled in the pit below, tuning their instruments in a discordant hum.

“It’s like the puppet show!” he whispered.

Ulric chuckled, sinking into one of the two ornate chairs at the front of their balcony. He stretched his long legs out, lounging like a king surveying his court.

“Oh, this will be much better than a puppet show,” he said with a sly smile. “This is the Royal Theater. Though…” he glanced around at their lavish space, noting the nest of scattered throws and low, sumptuous couches, “I don’t recall so many… pillows.”

Auren looked around too, a little bewildered. Besides the two chairs near the railing, the floor of their balcony was littered with silken throws, thick cushions, and plush ottomans, creating a sort of luxurious nest.

“Maybe it’s because tonight’s a special event?” Auren suggested. “Maybe it’ll go super late, and the guests are supposed to lie down for the later performances. Like an overnight party.”

Ulric raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Auren’s attention snagged on something else. Two tiny vials set into a shelf in the wall, their contents gleaming semi-translucent, yellow-tinted like olive oil.

“What do you think those are for?” Auren asked, pointing.

“I have no idea,” Ulric admitted, frowning.

Before they could speculate further, there was a polite knock, and a silver tray was delivered, piled with olives, cheese, crackers, and slivers of cured meats.