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

Loce gave a curt nod and led the way, moving downwards through the passages that wove along the inside of the arena’s thick walls.

When they emerged out onto the sand, the temperature belying the truth of the winter air outside the dome, Siraay and Loce directed their steps towards Herrin, who called a halt to the drills when he noted their approach.

And he was not the only one.

Siraay saw multiple pairs of eyes register her presence and keep watching as she and Loce entered their field of vision.

Pretending not to notice, Siraay nonetheless catalogued everything she read in the eyes and faces of each soldier—especially in the males. For she had chosen this dress especially, knowing that when she walked out into the arena, it would reflect the light, making her glow like a second sun, her red hair free flowing and bright against the dress. And, of course, the slits showed glimpses of her toned thighs with every step—which was not just an aesthetic touch, as Loce probably thought.

No, Siraay wanted these soldiers to note that she wasn’t just a title—but that she had earned her place here, had trained, had fought, and was worthy of what she would command them to do. And, of course, the scars that marked the left side of her face only added to the effect she wished to produce.

And even if they didn’t really have another option, should the tarzneum in their bands not have the exact required effect, soldiers would generally do anything for a superior they revered.

Anything … for a potential queen.

Siraay stopped in front of the line and glanced at Herrin, who pointedly moved his eyes upwards from her feet, taking a long time around her hips before finally reaching her face.

As usual, Herrin’s eyes gave little away, but Siraay could now read his posture like a book. His muscles were tense and his feet were planted firmly apart at shoulder width, but his upper body was leaning forwards ever so slightly.

She smiled a sensual, predatory smile at the training master, the dark makeup lining her eyes adding intenseness to her gaze.

Herrin breathed in slightly as Loce addressed him. ‘Lady Siraay has selected those she would like for her personal guard.’

Some of the waiting soldiers noticeably straightened further, but Loce continued on, as if he, Herrin, and Siraay were chatting alone.

‘Lady Siraay’s guard will, of course, accompany her around the palace, follow her orders over any others but Lord Chezran’s, and have the honour of fighting with her when our armies bring down the Resistance.’

A deep silence seemed to reign over the arena, and Loce nodded at Herrin.

The training master pivoted with that lethal grace to address the soldiers standing at attention in the line before him. ‘If any of you, for whatever reason, would prefer to fight with the main division and not be considered for this honour, step aside now.’ Herrin’s eyes canvassed the faces before him carefully, looking for the slightest twitch.

But, interestingly, all the soldiers remained completely still.

Surprised, Siraay turned her head to look at the assembled males and females, running her eyes quickly across the faces before her.

And actually blinked, losing her self-assuredness for a breath.

Keen eyes, raised chins, and set expressions.

Fierce loyalty. There was no other way to describe it.

And although she was not the sentimental kind, the power Siraay felt transfer to her in that moment was incredible. Each male and female here would die for her, their bodies hers to command.

She shifted her eyes away from the mass of soldiers and looked back to Herrin, who had raised one eyebrow.

‘It seems that the stories of your recent … activities have become well known, lady.’

Siraay nodded. ‘So it seems. I’ll make my selection, then.’

Herrin nodded and stepped to the side with a formal gesture, then fell into step with Siraay as she passed him.

Good, she thought. Had the training master not deferred to her, it would have been necessary to make an example of him. Though, there was a small risk of that now that Herrin had seen the soldiers’ reaction to her.

So Siraay walked across with Herrin to the line of familiar faces who had been called forward. The Mother, it seemed, had a plan for those whose lives kept entwining with her own. Although, as her personal guard, how long they stayed alive once they went to war would depend solely upon their skills.

And their regard for her orders.

Siraay eyed Wexner as she passed him and then admired Kovi’s large muscles as she strolled by. She stopped at Genlie. ‘You. Step out.’

No names. Not yet.

Siraay waited until the female had stepped forwards, then moved on, only to stop in front of Baindan and Zale. She peered carefully at the pair for a moment. The tarzneum would make them both obedient and loyal, and would enhance the traits and drives that made them both ideal soldiers. And if one of those traits was desire … she paused, considering, before making up her mind.

‘Step out,’ she told Zalorand.

The golden-haired male took a quick step forwards, his shoulders straightening further, but Siraay moved on rapidly, striding briskly past Tamot and stopping finally at the last person in line, the dark-haired female.

She peered into the female’s face, weighing the risks she had identified from earlier memories, against the superior fighting skills and ferocity the female had demonstrated just moments before. ‘How devoted would you be to me?’ she asked the female quietly.

‘I would gladly die for you, lady,’ the female replied in a sure voice. ‘But not before I cut down any enemies who would dare to face you. Our goals would be the same.’

Siraay nodded, pleased at the answer. ‘Step forwards.’

The female did so, and Siraay turned and nodded to Herrin. Then she paused. ‘Oh, and I’ll have the one on the far end as well.’ Then she spun on her heel and began striding away across the sand, her yellow dress flowing behind her as