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

She couldn’t get any purchase on the ground with her feet, and her hands were busy trying to loosen Pyron’s hold on her throat. By the Mother, he was strong—if she hadn’t been fighting for her life, she might have admired the feat.

Or maybe she was just thinking that because she was beginning to become light-headed …

Siraay’s thoughts were running into each other without forming coherent meaning, but then one stuck, and she had to repeat it forcibly to herself a couple of times before she could make her body respond. Change …Change …Change!

It was enough. She focused her mind down on that knot of power within her, and as soon as she felt herself beginning to Change, she reached her forelegs forwards and dug her claws into Pyron’s shoulders.

The chief archon screamed horribly as Siraay’s claws pierced his flesh, and even more so when she flexed them, before he suddenly let go of her throat and stumbled back from the edge of the steps.

She would have died then. Would have plummeted to a grisly end on the rocks so very far below, if she hadn’t been pulled back from the edge as Pyron retreated, by the sheer virtue of her claws being imbedded in his shoulders.

As he stumbled backwards, her claws slipped free and raked down his chest as she sank onto the steps.

But she didn’t wait around to see what he would do next—even though her throat burned, and her shoulders ached, she managed to get all four legs under her and sprint up the remaining steps and into the palace, her bloodied front paws leaving streaks on the dark stone floor and making her slip.

She had enough of a mind to slow down when she entered a main hallway, but she didn’t bother to Change back from her sevonix form as she stalked swiftly down the halls and to the staircase, servants ducking speedily out of her way while soldiers bowed their heads to her to acknowledge her status.

Of course they knew who she was, even in this form. There were only two who could adopt the sevonix form in Xarcon, out of possibly just a handful on Kaslon. Maybe less.

Siraay kept moving swiftly up the stairs and towards her room. Her escort was there again, but her approach was so quiet that they didn’t notice her until she was almost a body length away.

When they did, it was almost funny. One of the females gasped, causing the other to twist quickly to ascertain the threat, surprise on both of their faces as Siraay paused to growl in annoyance at them.

Then the door of her room opened, and Trelar, sticking her head out, spotted her.

The servant swallowed but promptly stepped back to leave the doorway clear so Siraay could enter, simply saying, ‘Evening, my lady.’

Siraay slipped between the guards and into her room. She waited until Trelar had closed the door before Changing back, and another soft gasp made her look at the servant who was staring at Siraay’s bloodied hands.

‘It’s nothing,’ she muttered to the female. ‘It’s not even mine.’ Then, annoyed with herself for trying to reassure her servant, she snapped at Trelar in an irate voice. ‘Run my bath.’

‘Yes, lady.’ Trelar’s paling face closed up once again, and she hurried about her duties while Siraay walked over to gaze into the mirror. Upon seeing her reflection, she thanked the Mother that she hadn’t Changed until she’d gotten to her room.

Her hair was dishevelled and her eyes bloodshot from asphyxiation, her hands streaked with blood that was rapidly drying, and around her neck, clear red marks stood out where Pyron’s fingers had gripped her throat.

Siraay raised a hand to trace a finger over the burgeoning bruises and sighed angrily. He had marked her. Oddly, that made her more angry than the fact that she had been so close to dying. Violently, she ripped her top off and flung it to the side, wanting nothing more than to sink into a warm bath.

She glanced back into the mirror briefly, meaning to turn and make for the steps that led up to the running water, but she spotted something interesting.

More bruises were blossoming across the tops of her shoulders—dark points of colour that stood out against her skin. Yet she didn’t remember the blow that had earned her those … She stared at them for a moment, but when nothing occurred to her, she shook her head, dismissing the thought. It didn’t matter. The ones on her throat were the issue.

How was she to hide them from Chezran? If he saw them, and knew that she and his chief archon had come to blows, would he think her weak for running from Pyron at the end?

Or worse, would he think she had purposely tried to pick a fight?

She called out to Trelar, ‘Let the kitchen know I’ll be taking dinner in here tonight.’ She peeled off the rest of her outfit and walked across the room and up the steps to the bath. It looked hot, but this time she didn’t mind. She wanted the heat of the water to clean Pyron’s touch from her body, to burn away those marks he had made on her.

As Siraay’s body sank into the warm, circulating water, her submerged hands caused red swirls to bloom in the water.

At least Pyron hadn’t gotten away unscathed. And next time, he might not get away at all.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Siraay stood out on the balcony, watching small shapes flit about the city as the sun sank to one side, the cool temperature of the air keeping her alert. She was staring at the mountains in the distance and could feel a need building in her.

While she was still getting to know how things worked around here, and didn’t want to be seen shirking any duties, she was also beginning to feel like a contained animal. True, her former self had been a captive of Xarcon for a number of days, but since