Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

tanned skin and red hair, which set off the gold of her necklace and the brilliant purple of the gem.

The top part of the dress dipped down in a V to show a hint of Siraay’s breasts, and the back crisscrossed in small sections of material before it swung about her hips to join up at the front.

Leaving her toned stomach exposed.

That, and the splits up both thighs, meant Siraay was exposing a lot of skin as she made her way gracefully down the stairs.

It was a dress that drew the eye. Perfect for her needs that day.

Loce managed to get his reaction rapidly under control as Siraay joined him at the bottom of the stairs, and he stared straight ahead as he escorted her through the palace towards the tunnel door that led to the arena.

‘Apparently, you’re the talk of the palace at the moment,’ commented Loce.

Siraay smiled indulgently. ‘Am I?’

Loce nodded. ‘I’m told that the story of how you took on an entire squad of Resistance fighters has been told so many times now that you’re almost a legend here.’

Siraay smiled again and pretended to brush an imaginary piece of lint from the folds of her dress. Right above her thigh. ‘Soldiers will talk.’

Loce peeked over at her motion as they walked, then looked forwards again. ‘Yes, but I think it’s more now. With that battle, and your recovery, and what they saw you do before you … joined us, they are beginning to believe the prophecy. That you are the weapon that was foretold.’

Siraay stopped, her eyes lighting up at the revelation. She shifted to regard Loce. ‘Weapon?’

He blinked at her. ‘Yes. The prophecy says …’ He trailed off as Siraay raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, right. You never got to read it.’ The recently titled archon seemed to think for a moment before he abruptly said, ‘This way,’ and grabbed Siraay’s elbow, pulling her from the passage and into a small room.

Once they were inside, Loce closed the door and spun back to her. ‘After you asked me about the prophecy, I wrote you a note. But obviously after things went … badly … you never had the chance to read it.’ He moved away from her and rummaged through a small storage box on a nearby table.

Seeming to find what he wanted, Siraay watched as Loce jotted something down on a piece of paper before turning and thrusting the sheet into her hands. ‘Here.’

‘What’s this?’ Siraay asked, taking the paper carefully from him.

‘It’s the prophecy,’ Loce replied simply.

Siraay’s eyes dropped to the paper immediately, excitement building within her.

Two will fall,

And two will rise.

  

One who wears two faces,

One who wears many.

  

Through trial and hardship,

They will meet.

  

A new path forged,

The white fire will burn.

  

She will defeat those who oppose.

  

Finally. The prophecy.

What Loce had talked about.

What Chezran and Pyron had talked about.

And none of it made sense to her.

Siraay glanced up from the note at Loce. ‘What does it mean?’

He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if considering how much he should tell her and weighing that against what Chezran might think if he found out.

So Siraay subtly shifted her hips, exposing more leg, and widened her eyes innocently.

Loce’s next words came out in a quiet rush. ‘Chezran thinks it tells the story of two people who will change the course of Kaslon history. He thinks it speaks of one male and one female who, together, will rule Kaslon.’ His gaze shifted to the paper for a moment, then over Siraay, before lifting back up to meet her eyes. ‘He thinks the female is you.’

This time, the widening of Siraay’s eyes was genuine, and she stared at Loce, stunned and silent. But, automatically, her eyes turned back down to the paper, and she read over the lines of the prophecy again.

And memories began flashing quickly through her mind.

Two will fall, and two will rise.

She had almost been killed numerous times since leaving Lalinta, and had finally been awakened by Chezran in the arena, leaving her old self behind.

One who wears two faces, and one who wears many.

She could Change into different forms, not just one like most Kaslonians.

Through trial and hardship, they will meet.

Well, that bit was obvious to her—fighting and surviving was all she had done for the last few seasons.

A new path forged, the white fire will burn. This bit was more intriguing. A new path forged … could that be what she and Chezran were trying to do as they planned for the battle to come, and what they would do after their victory? And what about the second part of that line, the white fire? Was it symbolism for something? Her healing ability? It certainly had felt like fire was rippling through her both times she had managed to summon that power. Or did it mean something else entirely? A cleansing of sorts? She certainly meant to help Chezran wipe out the Resistance.

She will defeat those who oppose.

That line she liked, given all its inferences.

Siraay’s eyes moved from the paper to Loce again. ‘Why does Lord Chezran think this is about me?’

‘Because of what you have done. Because of what you are—a sevonix. Everyone knows that only Kaslon leaders are given that form by the Mother. It marks you as special.’

Loce’s voice grew soft on the last word, but Siraay ignored the nuance as she continued to press him.

‘There must be more to his theory than that.’

Loce nodded readily. ‘You can also heal others. An extremely rare gift in itself. Something I had never even heard of, until I saw you do it.’ He took a step closer to her. ‘And you are ruthless,’ he breathed. ‘The way you fight … you wouldn’t know, but watching you’—he paused for a moment—‘I can only describe you as a weapon. Forged by the Mother, to do her will.’

Siraay watched as Loce’s hand moved towards her slowly, as if his mind was warring over his need to touch her while knowing that she was