Chapter Twelve
Byron’s mind roused to consciousness. He fought the sensation, unwilling for the day to begin yet. His body felt stiff and ached from lying in one position too long. If he fell asleep again, the soreness would vanish.
A strange sound dissolved his tenuous hold on slumber and his mind grew alert. Suppressing a moan, Byron rolled on his side. He opened his eyes, adjusting his vision to the early light of dawn. His gaze fell at once on the figure stretched out across his floor. Mevine was sprawled on his back, his good arm wrapped possessively around his computer pad. He wasn’t snoring, but his foot twitched in a spastic, uneven rhythm.
Everything about you is a bundle of nerves, Byron thought, rubbing his eyes.
Sleep was now out of the question. He needed to rise anyway. O
