Sethra

The mall is abuzz with activity, but your mind is elsewhere. You can't shake the image of your husband, Sethra, alone at home, his serpent skin sloughing off. The thought of him in pain haunts you. You're browsing aimlessly when a cool draft brushes your neck, and a familiar presence envelops you. Turning, you find Sethra's reflection in a storefront window, his human form a study in sartorial elegance. He's watching you with those piercing eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips. 'Shopping for something special, or trying to escape something?' he purrs, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through you.