Page 7 of Drown Me Gently (Flipped Fairytales)

He shifted with him, letting Auren think he was making progress, letting him struggle just enough to believe it was a fair fight. But Ulric’s core held fast, unmoved. His tentacles coiled and adjusted with lazy precision, keeping Auren right where he wanted him.

And Auren realized, with a startled jolt of awareness, that Ulric was letting him fight. Letting him grapple and work out some of his pent-up stress.

Because it was abundantly clear that if he wanted to, Ulric could end this in a heartbeat.

He could break me.

The thought should’ve unsettled him. But it didn’t. Instead, it sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, raising his awareness all the way down to his tailfin.

Auren was panting when Ulric finally let go. The release was sudden—like a line cut from a net—and Auren drifted back, chest heaving, hair partially fallen from his braid and sweeping across his face. His gills flared wide, straining to catch the current.

Ulric winced, and there was a flash of magic along the runes on his arms, but the Kraken shook it off, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “That’s what you get for running your mouth,” he said with a huff.

Auren didn’t answer right away. He was still catching his breath. Still trying to ignore the phantom press of Ulric’s hands on his arms, his waist, his back. Still trying to quiet the voice in his head that whispered he could’ve broken me. And didn’t.

For a moment… Ulric hadn’t felt like his mentor. Or his jailor.

He’d felt like a man.

Auren’s gaze slid away. Anywhere but that smirking mouth. He needed to gather his thoughts. Get himself under control.

He spotted a pair of seal pups tumbling through a curtain of kelp, squeaking and nipping at each other. It gave him enough distance to pull his frazzled mind back together. To summon up that familiar bite and bickering in their usual cadence.

“Yeah, well, I bet this rock is younger than you?—”

He turned to throw the insult, but stopped short.

Ulric was right there.

So close that their noses nearly touched. So close Auren felt the pressure of the Kraken’s words before they were even spoken.

“What was that?” Ulric whispered, voice low. Ragged.

The current stirred between them, brushing against Auren’s lips like a kiss not quite given. His breath hitched. His mind spun in a panic. Why was Ulric talking like that? Why was he so close? Why wasn’t Auren moving away?

“I—I don’t remember,” he whispered back, because it was the only truth he had left.

This close, and in the glowing light of the algae bloom, Auren saw the Kraken like he’d never seen him before.

Ulric’s skin was burnished bronze, smooth and defined.

The tattoos etched across his arms and chest glowed in the bloom light, pulsing with the magic that lived in his bones.

His beard framed a sharp, grim mouth that for once wasn’t twisted in disapproval.

Dark hair drifted around his face, framing obsidian eyes that missed nothing.

And Auren’s heart stuttered.

Oh no.

Ulric was beautiful.

No—not beautiful.

Ulric was devastating .

It hit him like a breach to the ribs. He dropped his gaze before it could betray him, pretending to brush glowing algae from his arm, but the heat had already risen to his face. He felt it in his ears, his gills. Everywhere.

Ulric let out a low chuckle, that same rough, unguarded laugh that made something flutter low in Auren’s gut.

“That’s what I thought,” the Kraken backed away. “All talk until you get your ass handed to you.”

Auren swallowed hard, voice hoarse. “I liked that.”

“What? Getting tossed around like chum?”

“Hearing you laugh.” The words slipped out too quickly, too honestly. Ulric stilled. The water went quiet. Auren winced. “Sorry. That was weird.”

Ulric’s voice was softer when he replied. “It happens… sometimes.”

“You should do it more.”

Their eyes met. And something cracked. Something shifted. The water between them held its breath. Auren’s thoughts tangled. He didn’t want Ulric to scold him. Didn’t want his protection. He wanted Ulric to stay—like this. Unguarded and real.

But he couldn’t say that. Not when his stomach still twisted with discomfort. Not when he didn’t even understand why that look set his skin alight.

He turned away, twisting the silver silk in his braid like a nervous habit.

Ulric’s eyes landed on it, and Auren quickly dropped his hand. But it was too late. Whatever softness had been growing on his face turned to stone.

“Let’s go,” Ulric said, voice tight. “It’ll be dawn soon.”

Auren didn’t argue. Not this time.

They swam back in silence, but it was far from quiet inside the bedlam of Auren’s mind.

Ulric. Ulric, the nag. Ulric, the stone-faced Court Sorcerer, who probably remembered the formation of the first rock and had the attitude to prove it. Ulric, who scowled at everything and laughed at nothing, bossed Auren around like it was a holy duty.

Ulric, who’d held him—when he could have easily broken him. Whose laugh was deep, like the rumble of the sea.

Ulric, the strong, beautiful Kraken from the deep.

Auren didn’t say a word, not as the shimmer of the bloom faded behind them, not as the familiar shapes of Atlantis rose in the distance. But a smile tugged at his lips, shy and entirely involuntary.

He hadn’t expected any of this. Not the way Ulric had looked at him. Not the way he’d felt in Ulric’s arms. Not the way something shifted and settled, like a door opening inside his chest that he hadn’t known was there.

He should’ve been afraid of it.

But he wasn’t.

He was curious. Hopeful. Like maybe—for the first time—he wasn’t broken for wanting something different. Wanting something he wasn’t supposed to have.

Like maybe it could become something new.

Something wild.

Something real.

Something unapologetically his .