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

‘And,’ Siraay continued, ‘of course, you have my gratitude, for assisting in bringing me here, to be fully awakened to my real potential.’ She smiled again at him—an appreciative, kind smile. Not too much, just enough.

Loce gazed into her eyes just a breath longer than was necessary before Siraay turned her head away, forcing a blush. Then she straightened one side panel of her shirt. ‘Now, where shall we begin?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LOCE STARTED OFF their session by briefly explaining that a variety of training methods were conducted in the room, including strength, agility, and weapons training. He also explained that sometimes, to test their skills, they would face off against a number of their own soldiers.

When Siraay showed surprise at this, Loce just shrugged. ‘We need to be the best if we want to lead this army, and our soldiers are very well trained. Although they might be more … dedicated’—and here his eyes flashed quickly to the necklace against Siraay’s throat—‘than normal soldiers, they still need to be shown why we are in charge.’ He shrugged again. ‘Training against them helps to remind them why we are leading this force and also puts our skills to the test.’

Siraay tilted her head to the side slightly. ‘I would have thought that they might be loath to fight against you and the other members of the inner circle?’ Actually, she would have expected that soldiers who properly respected and feared their leaders would never raise arms against them.

‘We incentivise them,’ explained Loce. ‘Anyone who shows great skill or who manages to harm their opponent—or possibly even win the fight—is rewarded.’ Loce gestured in a wide arc. ‘Better quarters, an increase in rank or maybe appointment to special duties.’

‘And if they do actually manage to win?’

Loce shrugged. ‘It hasn’t happened yet. But I imagine Chezran would be extremely displeased with whichever archon or captain who was defeated.’

This made Atalia’s face pop into Siraay’s mind. ‘So, you all do this?’ she asked carefully.

Loce shook his head. ‘No. The captains are expected to, but an archon does not have to do so.’

Siraay noted his emphasis on the ‘have’. Obviously, the captains would ensure they excelled at the challenge, leading divisions as they did. And if Loce fought against the soldiers, then chances were that Pyron did as well. She hoped she would get the chance to watch him lose.

‘But enough about exercises,’ stated Loce, switching back to the matter at hand. He grinned. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’

His casual words were all the warning Siraay had before he launched himself at her, and immediately, she was on the defensive against his attack, her feet backpedalling as she tried to put space between them so she could recover enough to defend against his blows before attempting a counterattack.

But Loce never gave her the chance. Gone was the stumbling, unfocused male who had just made it through Resistance training with her former self. And in his place was a male who used a balance of strength and speed to drive her backwards by raining down blows upon her, so that she was forced to divert all her energy to deflection.

Then Loce kicked out at Siraay’s forward leg, and as the blow connected, she dropped to one knee.

Another foot impacted against her chest quickly after, and the next thing Siraay knew, she was lying flat on her back, Loce’s knees pinning her arms while he grinned down from above.

This time, Siraay’s admiration was genuine. ‘Guess you were holding back quite a bit, then.’

Loce’s grin grew wider, and he opened his mouth to say something, but rumbling laughter interrupted him.

From her position on the floor, Siraay tilted her head back.

Now wearing a shirt, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest, Pyron leaned against the wall of the room, his eyes on them as he laughed. ‘I see that you’re only really a fighter in your other form, lady.’

Loce jumped to his feet, freeing Siraay from her position on the ground, and she rolled, coming smoothly up onto her feet.

‘I am a skilled fighter regardless of my form,’ she replied archly. ‘But yes—this body needs more training, if that’s what you mean.’ She looked Pyron contemptuously up and down. ‘Not all of us have had the luxury of lazing around a palace doing nothing but fighting our own shadow each day.’

That seemed to hit a sensitive spot—Pyron’s mouth thinned, and from behind his mask, his blue eyes turned from amused to stormy. ‘I’ll be happy to take over your training and show you how much real experience I have,’ he challenged.

Siraay ignored the warning in his voice and merely smiled sweetly at him. ‘Thanks, but Loce seems more than capable. Besides, you’ve already tired yourself out—I wouldn’t want to exhaust you.’

A stifled snort from behind Siraay almost made her turn and grin at Loce, but she was too busy enjoying the tightening of Pyron’s jaw.

He pushed himself away from the wall and took a menacing step towards her, but then his mouth shifted quickly as steps sounded behind Siraay, and an instant later he was back to his usual smirking, casual self.

Siraay didn’t need to turn to identify the owner of those steps—the spacing between each solid footfall, the quick but not rushed pace, and the confident balance of the rhythm told her plenty. Yet she twisted away from Pyron anyway, both to annoy him and to smile coyly at Chezran.

Loce was quick to be the first to speak. ‘Morning, lord.’

Siraay was interested to see that Chezran was also dressed in training gear this morning, but what delighted her the most was that his eyes drifted to her first before he even acknowledged Loce’s greeting.

‘Morning,’ he said in that silky voice of his. ‘As you’re already training with Lady Siraay, I won’t interfere.’ Chezran’s eyes moved to Pyron. ‘Have you completed your own training already, or would you be up for a couple of rounds?’

The question was asked casually, and Chezran peered