To Kill a Kingdom (Hundred Kingdoms, #1)

by Alexandra Christo

I HAVE A HEART for every year I’ve been alive. There are seventeen hidden in the sand of my bedroom. Every so often, I claw through the shingle, just to check they’re still there. Buried deep and bloody. I count each of them, so I can be sure none were stolen in the night. It’s not such an odd fear to have. Hearts are power, and if there’s one thing my kind craves more than the ocean, it’s power.

I lick my lips. “Maybe,” I say. “But a princess must have her prince.”

TECHNICALLY, I’M A MURDERER, but I like to think that’s one of my better qualities.

“Is this about Cristian?” my father asks. “No.” “Lies aren’t answers.” “But they sound so much better than the truth.”

“That’s the thing about risks,” Kye says. “It’s impossible to know which ones are worth it until it’s too late.”

Madrid scoffs. “Keep watch for the captain’s signal,” she says. “He told you to do that.” She smiles. “And technically, darling, I outrank you.” Kye scratches his face with his middle finger, which is apparently not a flattering gesture, because a moment later Madrid’s jaw drops and she swipes to hit his shoulder. Kye weaves effortlessly out of the way and then grabs her hand midair, pulling her toward him. When Madrid opens her mouth to say something, he presses his lips to hers and snatches a kiss. Like a thief stealing a moment. I half-expect her to shoot him with the crossbow—I know I would—but when he breaks away, she only shoves him halfheartedly. Her smile is ruthless.

“Wars aren’t won by running,” she says. “You can’t win a war,” I tell her. “Someone else just loses.”

We continue on that way, swords arcing through the air, our breath ragged. Soon there’s sun in the distance, or perhaps even moonlight. Everything is muted and as Lira swoops her blade down on mine once more, I let it all fall away. My mission, my kingdom. The world. They exist somewhere other than in this moment, and now there is only this. Me, my ship, and a girl with oceans in her eyes.

“Poison?” I muse. “Were you keeping that around for your future wife?” “It’s not lethal,” Elian says. For a killer, he seems oddly offended at the idea. “And no.” He pauses, then turns to me with a half smile. “Unless you were my wife.” “If I were your wife, then I’d take it.”

Elian and I aren’t so different. Two kingdoms that come with responsibilities we each have trouble bearing. Him, the shackles of being pinned to one land and one life. Me, trapped in the confines of my mother’s murderous legacy. And the ocean, calling out to us both. A song of freedom and longing.

Some people burn so brightly, it’s impossible to put the flames out. Thankfully, that’s just what I need.

Any human who takes a siren’s heart will be immune to the power of their song. Only Elian didn’t need to take my heart; I gave it to him.

You’ve made it to the end! Thank you for reading Lira and Elian’s story and then turning the page to find out a little bit more about mine (unless you’ve skipped straight here without reading. In which case, spoiler alert: Everyone dies).