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

Captives in Herrin’s path quickly stepped aside, scattering like clouds before a strong wind, and Siray grew angry at them all, at their meekness and lack of will to stand against him. Her nostrils flared again, and she shifted her feet, the fiery yeibon side of her nature urging her to do something.

A sharp slap of hair against her rump distracted her for a moment, and she turned her head to the side.

Tamot’s big, dark eyes stared into hers, chiding her. His was an echo of her own earlier warning, and she snorted quietly in acknowledgment, then turned back to watch as Herrin bore down on the small creature still struggling in the sand.

‘So much noise from such a small animal.’ The trainer came to a sudden stop a pace away from the twisting animal, and Siray began mentally urging whomever it was to Change back.

Herrin tilted his shaved head, the slight motion an ominous sign. ‘It seems that while most of you had the sense only to Change if your other forms were large enough, one of you did not.’

The stillness amongst the captives grew more tense, the air seeming to thicken with it.

‘I have no use for soldiers who don’t use logic or who can’t handle a little pain,’ continued Herrin. ‘Change now.’ An order.

Siray held her breath, praying for the Mother to give the male or female strength. She knew how hard it could be to gather the will to Change when the physical body was in such pain. Knew that it took more than just will—something else had to compel you.

The memory of Deson then was so strong that Siray couldn’t stop the tremble from going through her. She remembered his smell, his eyes. Those dark-brown eyes that had pleaded with her to Change. And those same eyes, staring vacantly up at the ceiling of a cavern, as an emptiness roared inside her—

‘Well,’ Herrin was saying, ‘if you can’t Change back, then you’re of no further use to us.’

The trainer was reaching for something at his side as he spoke, and as the memory of Deson consumed her, Siray reared, whinnying.

None of the others were fast enough to stop her as she leapt forwards, galloping across the sand towards Herrin, white grains spraying up in her wake.

Shock was written across the faces of all the captives who observed her speedy approach, and Siray snorted explosively as she neared the edges of the group, the sound quickly scaring both captives and animals from her path.

Herrin had turned his head slightly, and Siray saw his feet shift just noticeably in the sand as he watched her draw closer.

She slowed, now that she had drawn his attention away from the struggling animal at his feet, and Changed.

In her normal form once more, Siray found that the pain in her back from the lashing had reduced from what it had been prior to taking her yeibon form. Now, it was bearable. That such a small amount of time in a larger form had helped still amazed her.

She focused on the trainer before her. ‘Master, let me try.’

Herrin turned fully, his blue-grey eyes assessing her. ‘The red yeibon. Strong-willed, fiery.’ He smirked, a predator deigning to let its prey dangle before it a moment longer. ‘A leader.’

So she had guessed right. They had been watching the captives the entire time. Watched Siray make the others aware that they had no reason not to Change.

Herrin’s gaze held hers, and Siray fought to keep both her face and body still. To look interested in the response to the request she had made but to show no concern for the animal still thrashing about in agony, crying out in the stillness.

The sun bore down through the curving roof above before mirroring off the sandy floor of the arena, and Siray worked hard to pretend indifference as she felt a drop of sweat wind its way painfully down over the torn skin of her back.

To convey nothing to those eyes that saw so much.

Because if Herrin glimpsed any emotion in her, knew how much rescuing this strange captive meant to her right now when the ghost of Deson still threatened to emerge from her memory, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill it.

‘Try.’ A single word of challenge—the threat behind it clear.

Siray fought against the rising shred of doubt and, instead, still affecting the same indifferent curiosity, stepped around the trainer to reach the squirming form on the ground. The animal was small—a cousin to Loce’s quison, maybe, but not something that Siray could name at this moment.

Still emitting little squeals, the animal curled and uncurled, pain making its torn back muscles visibly spasm.

Hidden from Herrin, Siray’s face grew grim as she realised the situation was even more desperate than she had guessed. But she was already committed.

Her own back aching, she sunk to her knees before the animal. ‘My name is Siray,’ she told it, feeling all eyes on her. ‘And you need to listen to me.’

The animal chose that moment to let out a piercing cry of pain, and Siray almost shook her head. It was possible the captive was already too far gone into the creature’s consciousness. She pressed her lips together. Death literally stood right behind her, ready to collect a soul if she failed. Or worse, the captive might lose themselves completely.

Insane cackling echoed in Siray’s mind, and leaning in closer to the animal in a burst of purpose, she grabbed the furry little head, forcibly turning it towards her even as the little creature continued to buck and twist, in danger of snapping its own neck.

But Siray refused to give up and held its gaze with her own as she leaned closer still, ignoring the small clawing limbs that were drawing thin lines of red along the skin of her arms and chest.

That close, Siray could speak in a whisper so only she and the animal she now