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

male to rotate his torso enough to expose his profile, Siraay grimaced with distaste.

Pyron.

Narrowing her eyes, Siraay shifted and leaned her back against the thick beam of the entrance, stretching out her legs casually before her as she eyed the masked male. ‘Interesting strategy,’ she quipped, both announcing herself and taunting him. ‘Does it actually hit back, or is this how you plan to win against the Resistance—by hoping they only throw mindless, useless grubs at you?’ Her voice carried clearly through the room, audible even above the thumps.

Yet Pyron didn’t turn to look at her. Didn’t seem the least bit fazed as he kept pounding the hanging object, his voice almost lazy in its reply. ‘There is more than just battling the enemy. There is also the war within our own minds that needs to be waged. And won, each and every day.’

Such words should not have intrigued Siraay, coming from Pyron, who she detested, but for some reason they did. And it made her all the more uncomfortable that she wasn’t able to articulate why.

She smiled widely at the male, showing teeth, and presenting the very image of smugness. ‘Some of us don’t have that issue. But I guess for weaker minds …’

That did it. Pyron’s hands fell away from the bag, and he spun towards her, making Siraay’s heart begin pounding harder in anticipation of a fight, and it took all her control to keep her body relaxed, to maintain a bored expression as she leaned against the beam.

Yet she didn’t think Pyron would be stupid enough to attack her, not when Chezran had made so clear the position she now occupied in this place.

‘Weaker minds?’ Pyron’s voice was a growl. ‘Remember who almost broke you that time in the cells. Remember that I have seen you at your weakest. Your most desperate.’ Pyron began to walk silently towards her, sweat making the muscles in his arms and chest glisten. He moved gracefully for someone so powerful. ‘You should remember that I could do those things to you again. Cause you pain that would make you beg for me to kill you.’

Siraay was no longer leaning against the beam. She was standing tall and tense, her body coiling itself as Pyron’s steady tread brought him closer and closer.

‘You won’t ever get to touch me again,’ she hissed at him, glaring, all pretence of languidness gone.

Pyron smirked. ‘Maybe—’

‘I see you found the training hall.’

The voice, once again, stirred odd feelings in Siraay. She still wasn’t sure how to treat Loce, back from the dead. He was a former friend of her old self—or had pretended to be so. But he was most assuredly a current ally.

Yet, regardless of her current thoughts about him, of her feelings concerning her former self being fooled by his pretending, she would take his company any day over Pyron’s.

Knowing it would anger the masked male, Siraay turned smoothly away from Pyron as if he no longer existed and devoted her full attention to Loce.

Thus, she managed to catch the final slip of Loce’s eyes as they rose rapidly back up from her midsection to her face.

‘I did,’ she responded, affecting ignorance of where his eyes had just been wandering. ‘Or, at least, my guards did.’ She placed a slight emphasis on the word ‘guards’, making her disapproval clear.

Loce nodded, not acknowledging her obvious annoyance at being constantly escorted around the palace, and Siraay looked more closely at the blond male. He carried himself so differently here, compared to the persona he had assumed as a member of the Resistance. And he, too, was dressed for training, but instead of wearing black, he was dressed in a charcoal-grey top and pants, black wraps around his hands and wrists.

Then Pyron’s voice floated from over her shoulder. ‘Lady Siraay,’ he said, drawing out her title just enough for it to sound insulting, ‘was just saying how badly she needed a training session. Maybe you could spar with her?’

Siraay gritted her teeth. She wished she could round on Pyron and give him a sound lashing, but Loce’s eyes were on her, and she had no wish for anyone to know just how much she hated the chief archon standing somewhere behind her.

So instead, she gave a curt nod and chose to retake control of the conversation. ‘That’s right. While the training methods of Herrin and Raque have been useful, I need to sharpen my skills quickly.’ She smiled winningly at Loce. ‘Pyron here has already tired himself out, but maybe you might be so kind as to assist me?’

Control, and a parting shot at Pyron. Siraay struggled to keep the polite smile plastered on her face from becoming smug as she felt the chief archon tense behind her at the insinuation he had ‘tired’ himself out merely hitting that hanging bag.

Yet he wasn’t given the opportunity to respond as Loce eagerly agreed. ‘I understand completely. I, of course, trained here first before being assigned out to submerge myself into the Resistance training camp.’ His chest puffed out a little. ‘It was quite hard to keep from giving myself away as the real fighter I am, during that training phase.’

Siraay thought she might have heard a derisive snort sound from behind her, but she was far more interested in what Loce had just said.

‘So you were spying for Lord Chezran?’ She moved with the slim male towards the larger room, leaving Pyron to watch them depart.

Loce was nodding as he fell into step with her. ‘It took a long time for me to find the right way in, and then it really tried my patience to have to follow along at the crawling pace of the Resistance instructors. But’—and he lifted his chin—‘I am now a favourite with Lord Chezran for the intelligence I was able to feed him. And for finding you again, of course.’

Siraay smiled in simulated admiration. ‘You must be highly skilled to have achieved that.’

Loce’s spine straightened just a little more. ‘His Lordship did