Year Three (Kingmakers, #3)

by Sophie Lark

I’m crazy about Dean, and it terrifies me.

“Look at that,” Rakel says. “They could be twins.”

“Not twins . . .” I breathe. “That’s her. That’s Dean’s mother.” We found Rose Copeland.

“You’re nothing to me,” I spit.

“This is over,” she says. “I don’t want to see you anymore. You’re broken, and I can’t fix you.”

You thought I would like that? Are you fucking stupid? You’re nothing to me.

“If he hurt you, then he doesn’t love you,” Zoe says.

“When someone loves you, they’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

“And by the way, Cat . . .” Zoe says. “What?” “Thank you for what you did. I hate what it must have cost you . . . but just know, I’m finally happy. Finally at peace. Because of you.”

“Cat,” I say, grabbing her arm. “I need to talk to you.” She shakes me off, snapping, “Don’t touch me!” “Are you going to pretend you don’t like when I touch you?” I growl, pinning her up against the rough stone wall. “I’m not playing games with you anymore!” she cries, trying to get past me.

“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.

“She had the balls to try to break up with me!” I say. Snow chuckles, and I’d like to chuck this towel right in his face. “Sounds like she did break up with you,” he says.

“With Sasha . . . how did you know you were really in love?” Snow answers without hesitation. “I knew when I was willing to do anything for her. Give anything. Risk anything.”

I miss Dean. I miss him badly.

“I love you!” I say, seizing her hand. “And I know you love me too. Look at me and tell me you don’t.” She refuses to look at me. And refuses to answer.

“Thanks for keeping her company,” I say to Hedeon. “I’ll take it from here.” Hedeon throws a quick glance at Cat, which only infuriates me more. “I don’t think—” he starts. “Yeah, don’t think,” I hiss. “Don’t strain your brain. Just carry on your way.”

God she looks sexy when she’s angry. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demands, stomping her foot in a way that’s utterly adorable. “I’m walking you to class.” “I don’t want you to walk me to class. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“Yes you do,” I growl. “You miss me, and I miss you. Stop torturing us both.”

“I can’t just walk away from you. I need you, Cat. I love you.”

“Then tell me what you need! Tell me what to do, how to make it up to you! What will it take for you to forgive me?”

“You can carry my books,” she says, dumping them into my arms. “Walking five feet behind me.” “No problem,” I say. “This is my favorite view.”

even demands that I strip off my shirt and fan her with a folded pop quiz, like she’s Cleopatra and I’m an Egyptian concubine.

I never realized she was such a little sadist. It only makes me like her more.

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.

“I’ll be right out here waiting for you,” he says. But when I come out of the classroom after Chemistry, Dean is nowhere to be seen.

“If you say one fucking word, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

I can’t stop crying and I can’t stop holding him. I can’t believe he did that for me. I don’t know how I didn’t see this sooner. Dean loves me. He loves me past anything I could have imagined. If his anger is a furnace, then his love for me is the sun, burning bright enough to light the universe.

“I’m crazy for you, Cat. I always will be.” “It terrifies me how much I love you,” I tell him, holding him as tight as I can without hurting him more.

As she tilts her head to smile at me, I see a glint of scarlet in the hollow of her throat. The necklace I gave her—restored to its rightful place. My heart burns as bright as that stone.

“You tried to fuck over my girl and now you’re gonna pay the price.”

“Why not? What are they gonna do, shave my head too? Saves me going to the barber.”

“You say one word to Cat, you so much as fucking look at her, and I’ll be back for your finger. You saw the whipping I took for her—I would gladly lose a pinky to see you lose one of yours.”

“Your hair will grow back,” I say softly. “But your finger won’t.”

“Cat, those drawings are what put the heart in me for everything that came after. The ones you drew of me . . . I saw them and I thought you must love me. Then I knew I could endure anything.”

“Why can’t you see that I love you? I fucking love you! I don’t care what you do to me, I don’t care what you say to me. I don’t care if you lie or scream or try to run away. I don’t care if you’re filthy or soaked in bleach or set on fucking fire! Why can’t you understand I love you! Without limit or reason.”

I believe her. I fucking believe her. She loves me. She loves me the way I love her.

“Cat,” I say. “You don’t know what a monster I can be, but I’ll be your monster. Everything I do will be for you. To protect you. To help you. To love you every day of my life. I’ll burn this whole fucking world down for you if that’s what you want.”

“I know exactly who you are, Dean. And I fucking love you.”

It doesn’t matter. Nothing can dampen Dean’s fire for me, not heartbreak, or time apart, or even a whipping.

“Thank you.” I pause, wanting to say this right. “Thank you for everything, Snow. You helped me, when I didn’t want it or ask for it. When I wasn’t grateful or even deserving.” “You were deserving,” Snow says, his eyes as clear and piercing as ever. “I saw that from the start.”

“You’re a man now. And that’s what a man does.”

“This will sound crazy,” she says, softly. “But I think that’s Hedeon’s mother.”

When she lets go of me at last, I face Sebastian Gallo and I look him in the eye. This is the man who mutilated my father and strangled my grandfather. He’s also the man who loved Yelena Yenina enough to marry the daughter of his worst enemy.

I hold out my hand to him to shake. Sebastian grips my hand in his warm grasp and pulls me into an embrace, hugging me just as hard as his wife. “Welcome home,” he says.

“Jesus, Dean,” he says. “There’s easier ways to get a tattoo removed.” Dean lets out a huff of air that’s something like a laugh. “Well, that’s Penmark for you—he didn’t respect my safe word.” He tips me a wink.

“I could never . . . explain to you . . .” his mother sobs. “It’s alright, Mom,” Dean says, quietly. “I know why you left.”

“You do?” She says. “Yes,” Dean says. “Because of her.” He nods toward a willow tree a dozen yards away. In the protected shelter beneath the low-hanging branches, a little blonde girl sits on a picnic blanket, headphones over her ears, reading a chapter book. “That’s Frances,” Rose says. “You were pregnant,” I say, understanding at last. Rose nods. “Adrian was . . . deteriorating. The pregnancy was accidental. When I realized it was a girl . . .” A shudder runs down her slim frame. “I know how the Bratva treat their girls.”

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” he says. “I don’t want to be full of regret. And I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I know who you are, Dean. I know you would never hurt us.”