Ribbons cut across Yukiko’s body, and I choke back a gag as the siren snarls and presses her hand against the princess’s chest, poised to take her still-beating heart as a trophy. I fist my sword, breathe in a low rumble, and ready for the killing blow.
“Kahlia!” Lira screams.
The siren slashes around to face me, red droplets on her face and hair.
Lira jumps between us like a lightning bolt. I’m barely able to stop the blade before it slices across her neck. I widen my eyes, arm shaking as I keep the sword hovering unsteadily by her throat. Daring myself to let her live again.
Lira swallows – the movement knocking against the steel – but she doesn’t back down. Her cheek is hashed pink and I struggle to look away from the mark.
“Not her,” she says, angling herself between me and the siren.
Furious, I advance until my shadow looms over her face. “You think I won’t kill any of these things because you tell me not to?” I ask. “It just tried to kill the princess of Págos.”
Lira casts a backward glance at Yukiko. “She looks alive enough,” she says, and spreads her arms out from her sides, shielding the siren. “The princess was the one with a gun to my head.”
“I don’t care.”
I make to move past her, but Lira presses her hands to my chest. It’s almost a shove, but when I stumble back a few steps, she follows, her palms still flat against my shirt. The connection sets off a storm in me.
It’s not skin on skin, but it might as well be. I feel the cold echoing from her and the confused warmth it brings. I want to reach out and pull her closer, save her just like we saved each other on Rycroft’s ship. But that instinct is the problem, and the fact that she would try to use it against me – the very weakness she created – makes me seethe.
I look down at Lira’s hand, pressed flat against my heart.
“Are you insane,” I say. Not a question.
“Elian,” she whispers. “You can’t.”
I throw her hands from my chest and glare. “Wrong.”
I go to shove past her again, but she grabs me in desperation, fingers slipping into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I seize.
“Elian,” she says again. Her pulse strums against mine. “She’s my cousin.”
I recoil.
When I look at the siren again, I see she can’t be more than fifteen, with one eye the same milky yellow as her hair, and the other a perfect match for Lira’s. Cousins. She looks up at us questioningly, but it’s not my sword, or the stone clenched in the same fist, that seems to hold her interest. But my other hand, threaded wildly into Lira’s. Her thin brows dimple over wide eyes and suddenly she looks far more girl than demon.
I back away, my hand falling from Lira’s.
Lira reaches out for me again, but I square my jaw and open my palm to reveal the Crystal of Keto. A warning, I think, though I’m not sure if it’s for me or her.
Lira shakes her head, undeterred, and takes a determined step forward.
The crystal sears against my palm as she nears. Pounding as furiously as my heart.
“Stop,” I demand, and my voice cracks.
To not end this war now would put humanity at risk. The sirens have shown they can’t be trusted or bargained with. To let their murderous race continue would be an affront to everything I believe in. And to let the Princes’ Bane live . . . of all the things I’ve done, that would be the worst. To put so many people in danger would be monstrous. And yet, one look at Lira’s pleading eyes, and I know that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I drop my hand and look to the ground, disgraced.
By falling for a monster, I have become one for her.
“Anóitos.”
The Sea Queen’s voice is clinical as she descends into my line of sight. Beautifully grotesque. Rage simmers through me, and just seeing her leaves me overcome with the need to plunge my knife into her cold black heart.
“Lira.” The Sea Queen’s head cracks toward her daughter. “Párte to apó ton.”
Lira watches me carefully, her eyes like magnets on mine. When she shakes her head, it’s slow and barely noticeable. She doesn’t look at her mother.
“I won’t,” she says in crisp Midasan, letting me know that she’s not just talking to her mother. She’s talking to me. To the crew she became a part of. To the army of her kin that stare onward from the water. Disobeying whatever order she has been given so everyone can hear.