Caged against the counter, Saffron missed the first part of Cylvan’s hurried words, growing even more alarmed when a cold hand suddenly grabbed his—and pulled it to touch different parts of Cylvan’s body. “Here, here, here, and here,” Cylvan said in a single breath, pulling Saffron’s hand into his throat, the middle of his stomach, the side of his stomach, even brushing between his legs. Saffron’s face erupted into flames, before realizing what Cylvan was doing—he was demonstrating all the places on the body to strike and disarm; Hollow had once offered Saffron the same advice a long time ago.
