Year Three (Kingmakers, #3)

by Sophie Lark

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m not that injured. You’ll still get your month’s worth.” “I don’t care about that!” I retort angrily.

“Dean . . .” she says softly. My heart hits against my ribs, not yet calmed from the mad race over here. “Yes?” I reply. “Did you catch me?” “No.” I shake my head. “But I did dig you out.” “Maybe next time . . . try to catch me,” Cat says.

“Next time give me a little warning,” I say. “You’re so fast . . .” Cat whispers, her voice drifting across the space between us. “Not that fast,” I say. “You could catch me . . .” Cat says, her eyes half closed. I know she’s high as balls on whatever Professor Lyons cooked up, but her confidence in me fills me with warmth all the same.

“Why didn’t you come find me?” I demand. “I was worried about you.” Cat smiles. “I figured we’d see each other tonight.” “You want to meet me in the Bell Tower?” I say, in an undertone because I don’t want the passing students to overhear. “I thought you’d take a few days off.” “I’m fine,” Cat says. “I don’t need any days off.” My pulse quickens and I feel my cock swelling, aroused by the fact that Cat isn’t using her accident as an excuse to avoid me. She wants to meet me tonight. “Nine o’clock?” I say. “Of course.” Cat nods. Then, to my astonishment, she winks at me and heads off to class with a flirtatious little flick of her skirt.

“What in the fuck is that?” I say, as my whole frame shakes. “You’re like a girl,” Cat laughs. “Having multiple orgasms.” “If this is being a girl, then sign me up,” I say. “Do it again.”

I see a glimmering ruby on a spider-fine chain. Dean lifts the necklace aloft. The pendant hangs suspended from his fingers, the stone as rich and dark as a droplet of blood. He drapes it around my neck, the necklace already warm from his body heat. “It suits you,” he says softly. “You like how I look tonight?” I ask. This is my first time dressing as a woman, not a girl—sultry, sophisticated. I didn’t know if it worked, or I only look ridiculous. “Cat,” Dean says seriously. “There’s no one more beautiful than you.” My heart soars up all over again, and I can’t help saying, “So . . . is this a new version of the collar?” Dean tries to hide his smile. “If you want it to be.”

“What are you thinking?” I ask him, half-fearful. “I was thinking how different you look. You’re fucking gorgeous, Cat. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” “Oh, come on—” I’m personally acquainted with several of the actual most gorgeous women at this school. “You are!” Dean says ferociously. “Cat, you came here a scared kid. And now look at you—I wouldn’t even recognize you. You’re dark. Devious. And absolutely fucking stunning.”

“I respect Anna Wilk,” I say very clearly. “But I don’t love her, Cat. I’m not sure I ever did. What I felt—I think it was just the feeling of admiring someone for the first time. It was new to me.” “Isn’t that what loving someone is?” Cat says quietly. “It might be part of it. But it’s not all of it.”

And then all the strength goes out of me, and I would have sunk down to my knees if Snow didn’t wrap his arms around me and hug me tight. I’ve never been hugged like this, by someone strong. Someone who could hurt me if he wanted to, but instead is using his immense power to give me that sense of protection and support that I’ve never known in all my life. I could have been a better man if my father had been more like this. “Why couldn’t he be happy?” I sob. “Why couldn’t he live for me, for us?” I’m thinking of my mother, too, of all the years she tried to laugh with him and joke with him like they used to. He shoved her away, over and over. Until she couldn’t even smile anymore, not for him and not for me.

“What’s going on?” she says, pulling back just a little to look up into my face. “Something happened today. I had to come tell you.” “Tell me what?” She says. “That I love you, Cat. I fucking love you.” “What!” Cat squeaks, sounding as terrified as the very first time we spoke. I laugh and then I kiss her, harder than I ever have before.

“It’s the way you focus on me, when we’re doing kinky shit. It’s like I’m the only thing in the world. You’ll spend hours touching and manipulating me. I love the attention.” “You are the only thing in the world,” Dean says seriously. “You’re all I have now, Cat.” I can’t believe he’s looking at me with that expression of utter focus. I can’t believe he’s saying those words to me.

“This one—‘No sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes.’ ” I slap him on the shoulder, earning another disapproving grunt from the shop owner. “ ‘Hardly a good feature in her face!’ ”

I feel low all the following week. I shouldn’t let Lola get to me, but the more I’m falling for Dean, the more I realize how miserable I’ll be if this thing between us ends.

“This is over,” she says. “I don’t want to see you anymore. You’re broken, and I can’t fix you.” Her words hit me, straight and swift like arrow shafts. All in an instant, the world flips and reverses. I thought I meant what I said while I was saying it. Now I see it for what it was: rage pointed in the wrong direction.

It’s better that I know how he actually feels about me. He doesn’t love me. He never did.

Dean has always been one of the smartest, the strongest, and the most disciplined people at this school. With all I’ve changed, I’m still barely average. But god, it felt good to believe that he loved me.

I’m worthless. No one loves me. No one ever will. Except Zoe. The thought comes to me—one tiny beacon of light in the blackness.

I’m not looking at her angry expression—I’m fixated on the shockingly bare expanse of collarbone where the ruby necklace usually sits. “You took off my necklace?” I say, outraged. “It’s my necklace,” Cat says angrily, “and I’ll throw it in the fucking toilet if I feel like it!” “Don’t you dare, you little⁠—” My words are cut off by a swift and accurate knee to the groin from my beloved. I double over, groaning. Cat slips neatly past me. “Leave me alone, Dean. I mean it!” she cries, darting into the classroom.

“Dean,” he says. “I don’t think this is the first time you’ve blown up your own life. Have you ever tried fixing it instead?” “What do you mean?” “You want connection, don’t you? Stop pushing away the people who will give it to you.”

Dean is bad for me. I’ve known that from the beginning. And yet my body craves him like fresh oxygen. I’m already missing the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hands on my flesh. “You hurt me, Dean,” I tell him quietly. “You really hurt me.” “I know,” he says. “And . . .” He swallows, as if he’s choking on something. “And I’m sorry,” he says in a strangled tone. I almost want to laugh. It sounds like he’s never apologized in his life.

Just because he likes fucking you doesn’t mean he gives a shit about you . . . He’s using you because you’ll do whatever he says . . . And then, worst of all, echoing over and over in my brain: You’re nothing to me. I never really believed that Dean could love me. What fragile hope I had was shattered as he raged at me in the tower. Zoe’s right: love doesn’t hurt like this. Love doesn’t bring you to your knees with grief and misery. “Cat, you’re being ridiculous!” Dean cries, annoyed at my continued resistance. “You can’t throw away everything we have over one fight.” “I didn’t throw it away,” I say coldly. “You did.”

I want Cat more than I want anything—even to become Pakhan. I’ve never loved someone more than my own ambition. It’s terrifying. Because I’m not in control of Cat. I can’t make her love me. All I can do is hope.

“What do you think I said?” Snow smiles, slowly. “I think you agreed.” “You were right,” I nod. “I’d do anything for her.” Snow rests his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a man now. And that’s what a man does.”