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

leapt from their places to grab the arms of the two males before they could interfere, their sneering faces conveying their contempt for the pair.

Then Chezran released Siray’s throat and Changed back, keeping one hand on her throat as he knelt there beside her. With the other hand, he brought out a slim blade the length of his forearm, not dissimilar from the blade that had come so close to killing Genlie.

He spoke softly, but loud enough for Siray and her friends, and the guards holding them, to hear. ‘I could kill you right now, Siray, for your refusal. But I do not want your death. I know you. I know our kind. You would defy me to the end while you thought you were right. So, I also know the only way to get you to join me.’ He leaned closer over her face, his eyes showing no uneasiness at being so near to her sharp teeth. ‘Come with me,’ he whispered, ‘and I will leave your friends alive.’

She stopped breathing. It was no idle threat, Siray knew. She could see it in his eyes. His dark, mysterious eyes, which showed no glimpse of madness, just uncompromising will.

This was it, then. There was no other way out. Rowp, Deson, Jorgi, Loce. All gone. And she had almost lost Genlie. Of their own accord, her eyes flicked to the side, where two pairs of eyes, one set grey, one golden, were locked on her as they continued to struggle against the tight grips of those holding them.

She touched both of those eyes briefly with her own, lingering finally in stormy-grey depths. She could not bear to part from Baindan, but worse was the thought of losing him—or any of the others. There was no need to make a choice, as there wasn’t one to make. She hoped he would understand.

Baindan’s eyes widened slightly as she held them for one last moment, then she turned away, staring back up into eyes of darkness. For the moment, she would play along with Chezran’s wishes. Until her friends were safe.

She Changed.

‘I will come with you,’ she agreed quietly, her words causing Baindan to take in a sharp breath behind her.

‘Excellent,’ Chezran said smoothly, standing while he made the blade in his hand disappear back into the folds of his cape. He offered her his hand, which she ignored, pushing herself up to her feet.

Once again, instead of being annoyed at her defiance, the lord only smiled, as if he was pleased by her independence.

‘And before we leave your friends, I have something for you.’ Chezran turned away and waved at a nearby soldier, who hurried forwards. ‘A gift, if you will.’

Siray brushed herself off and stood slowly, part of her still marvelling at her healed body, and part of her calculating whether she should just Change and sink her teeth into this self-styled lord before he knew what was happening.

But some kind of instinct halted the urge before she could act on it, and as Chezran turned back around to her, holding a small box, she saw an amused look on his face as he regarded her.

He knew—somehow, this heartless male knew—what was going through her mind.

Still giving her that small smile, Chezran held out the box towards her, placing one hand on its lid. ‘For you, as a token of our new alliance.’

Siray almost snorted out loud. It would be as short an alliance as she could make it—once she found a way out for her friends.

Chezran opened the lid … and despite herself, Siray couldn’t help but stare, stunned, at what was inside.

A gold necklace, with ornate detailing and a large purple gem on a drop chain, lay on silky white material. But it wasn’t just the beauty of the jewel, or its extravagance, that almost made her forget where she was. It was the fact that she recognised the piece.

She looked up at Chezran, her amazement genuine. ‘But, this is …’

‘The lost necklace of Reorana,’ the lord finished smoothly.

Reorana. A warrioress. A Lady of Kaslon, a ruler, and one beloved by her people. She had lived during the Xarcon Wars, fighting for peace and justice throughout her lifetime.

Siray glanced down lovingly at the remarkable piece before looking up at Chezran again. ‘I cannot accept such a gift.’ She wasn’t being difficult. This necklace should be worn only by the very deserving, those who, like Reorana, had devoted their lives to a cause. Beside this necklace, Siray felt small and insignificant. Yet she also could not accept something like this, something that meant so much to her people, to those who fought for peace—from him.

The enemy.

‘I insist,’ Chezran said in a harder voice, his gaze darting past Siray and then back to her.

Siray bit her bottom lip. A subtle reminder of what she still had to lose if she did not accept this symbol of their new pact. Fine, she’d go along with this gesture, then wear the piece as little as possible.

She nodded once, tersely, and Chezran turned back to his soldier, offering him the box, the male obediently holding it as his lord removed the valuable piece. Chezran pivoted back around to face Siray, the metal of the necklace gleaming where the gold swirls caught the bright sunlight.

‘If you would,’ he said, nodding at her to turn.

Siray paused for an instant before complying but then reluctantly turned, reaching up with a hand to sweep aside her long braid, which had mostly come loose from her recent activities. She felt the air shift behind her as Chezran stepped closer, although his movements themselves were soundless.

As the lord’s arms came around her neck, Siray stiffened—both a reaction to being in such a vulnerable position before an enemy and due to the oddness of being in such an intimate position with someone who repulsed her.

Baindan was glaring over her shoulder at Chezran, his expression promising death to the lord for daring to touch her.

Meanwhile, Chezran was lowering the pendant into the hollow