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

out loud at the pain. Around Siray, quiet moans sounded occasionally from her friends and other captives as particular movements caused more pain than others, especially for those who had taken more than one lashing.

Throughout the fitness exercises, Herrin remained standing casually nearby, watching them all carefully.

And just after Siray had given up hope of any end to the current form of torture, Herrin called out a halt in his deep voice.

Her breathing ragged, Siray tried to ease it. Tried to pull in air, push it out, and ignore the fire in her back. Over and over again.

It seemed as if she had plenty of time to do this, as Herrin’s steely gaze roamed across the heavily breathing captives, his stare settling on some, skipping others.

At some point during their exercises, Siray realised, the body of the male captive who Herrin had killed, and the body of the female captive who had died during her whipping, must have been removed from the arena.

The sand where they had all been whipped was still a muddy red.

Herrin’s scarred chin shifted away from the captives, and he made a motion with his hand before turning his eyes back on the group. ‘Food will be brought to you. You have one span to recover what strength you can before the afternoon session begins.’ Then he turned and walked off, heading for the entrance of the arena, his casual movements all Siray could think of as she stood there unmoving.

Recover our strength? Siray turned her head slowly to the side, glancing as far behind her as she could without moving.

Baindan stared back at her, his look contemplative. ‘Well,’ he said slowly, ‘I guess we’ve got some rest time.’

Multiple pairs of eyes were now focused on Baindan as he took a step away from his position in their ranks. Then another. Then he walked clear of the lines completely.

Siray took a step to follow and saw Genlie also step out, Kovi’s lean form close behind.

Soon after, the rest of the captives dissolved into small groups, groans sounding from a few as they each found a place to rest.

Siray was sitting next to Baindan somewhere in the middle of the arena when she smelled it—the spicy scent of warm meat. She twisted around, her back barking in pain even as her stomach demanded she go in search of the source of the smell.

An intense silence was swiftly settling over the seated captives as they each caught the new aroma.

Motivated by the purely physical need for sustenance, and still not quite able to let go of the instincts developed over the last few days, Siray stood up, moving as smoothly as she could. Across the sands of the arena, she saw three barrels standing, one of them wet on one side, the guards who had brought them out already leaving. Then, just loud enough for Baindan and Genlie to hear, she said, ‘Better move and grab something.’

She started off at a leisurely pace across the sand, forcing herself with each step to refrain from breaking into the sprint that the adrenaline now coursing through her urged her to do.

Even so, she was halfway there when she heard the commotion break out.

Snapping her head around to glance over one shoulder, Siray saw captives running towards her, some with more difficulty than others, owing to their respective injuries.

They were all surging towards the barrels. Towards the food and water.

Gritting her teeth, Siray turned away from the rush and leapt into a sprint, her back and legs immediately crying out in protest due to their earlier abuse. Yet Siray only pushed herself harder, pumping her arms as sweat began dripping down her face and body, the fierce sting of liquid salt making her spine stiff.

As she drew close to the containers, she risked another peek over her shoulder. She had some distance on the others. Not a huge amount, but enough to give her a precious moment alone at the barrels. Just steps away from the food, Siray whipped off her over shirt, biting her lip against the sharp pain in her back as the motion pulled at her wound where the cloth had dried against it like a scab.

Upon reaching the barrels, she placed the torn garment in the one emitting the spicy scent, and piled as much food as she could onto the sweat- and blood-soaked shirt.

As the sound of boots slapping against the sand warned of her the eminent arrival of other captives, she gathered up the edges of her shirt in one hand, hoisted it and its contents out of the barrel, then used her hand other to snatch up a final portion.

As she hastily spun away from the containers of food, she didn’t waste time on elegance but stepped up to the third barrel and dunked her face into the water, taking a large gulp before she was drawing her face up out of the water and stepping away, her face, hair, and neck dripping.

The rest of the captives arrived as Siray swallowed the mouthful of cool water, and a fight broke out instantly between two males over who would get to grab their meal first.

Siray, meanwhile, kept backing rapidly away, scanning the area as she did so. Water dripped down onto her sleeveless top, making the material feel cool against her skin.

It was Genlie, hanging back like with other females—though probably for different reasons—who saw her first.

When Siray noticed her looking, she held up her full shirt and jerked her head to indicate that Genlie should join her.

Then she spotted Baindan in the middle of the pack attempting to break through the surging captives to the barrels, and she called his name.

When his head turned, Zale, who was next to him, also looked, and Siray was able to wave them both over with the hand holding still more food.

When Wexner also peered curiously from where he stood at the edge of the large brawl, Siray worried that he might also join the group, so she