SEVEN
The night was long. Hellishly long. That was a better description, Gregory decided somewhere around two in the morning. Not only did he have a sleepless night in which to consider his sins, mostly focused on the fact that he had charged into Anwyn without official permission, but he didn’t even have the deliciously ripe form of Gwen to distract him.
“Blast it all,” he said into the close, dark night.
“You can say that again,” came the soft reply.
He stopped staring at the stone ceiling—which he couldn’t see once the guards turned off the lights for the night—and squinted across the cell. Was it his imagination, or could he make out a dark shape that was Gwen’s cot? “Are you awake, too?”
“No. Go back to sleep.”
“I haven’t been to sleep, so I can’t go back to it.” He hoped she wo
