Caspian sighed. "Could you just move over there? Your breath makes my hairs stand on end."
"Which hairs?" Seravine purred, her voice a teasing whisper just beneath his ear.
Before he could swat her away, she practically slithered under him like some sultry jungle cat on a mission. Caspian jolted so violently he nearly shrieked—and in doing so, almost revealed both of them to the patrol of demons lurking just beyond the thorny brush.
"Could you please?!" he hissed, voice strangled, trying to yank his long hair out from beneath her now very enthusiastic grip. "Your hands are crushing my pride!"
"Oh? Is that what I'm touching?" Seravine cocked her head, and Caspian didn't even want to look at her expression.
"I swear to the Moon, woman—"
"I promise," she interrupted, voice velvet and syrup, "if you give me a child now, I'll open the gates for you. No questions asked. And then you can forget about me. I know someone who erases memories—very clean work. No emotional scarring."
