Year Three (Kingmakers, #3)

by Sophie Lark

I learned my lesson from that infatuation. I will NEVER allow love to make me weak again.

“Dominik,” my father says, holding out his good hand to shake. “Ever faithful to Lara, I see.” “A man does not drink from a toilet when he has fine wine at home,” Dominik replies dismissively. “Don’t let Isay hear you liken the feminine flowers of Moscow to a toilet,” my father chuckles. “I wouldn’t share a fork with Isay, let alone a woman,” Dominik says.

I’m trying to please a man who can’t be pleased.

“You don’t have to do what he says!” Anna says indignantly. “I know he’s scary, but he’s not going to do anything to you with us around.” I know Anna’s intentions are good, but in this particular instance, she’s very wrong. I do have to do what Dean says. And the consequences are dire if I refuse.

“Who’s Professor Snow?” Bram says. “You don’t think . . .” “What?” “Filip Rybakov fought under the name Snow.” Bram stares at me, uncomprehending. “He was the heavyweight champion. He held all four titles at once.” “When?” Bram says. “Twenty years ago.”

“You think because you have abs, you’re ready to box?” THUD. THUD. He hits me in the ribs, the kidney, right in the gut. My eyes water and my breath wheezes out, I’m dizzy and light-headed because I can’t draw a full breath. A punch to the jaw can shut off your brain, but bodywork takes the heart out of you. “You think because you can beat up a boy, you’re ready to face a man?”

“You will never learn to conquer your opponent if you can’t conquer yourself,” Snow says. “There’s no one more disciplined than me,” I retort. “I never miss a day of training. Never eat one fucking thing I shouldn’t. I hone the mind and the body.” “And what about this?” Snow says, laying one heavy, calloused hand on my chest. I shake it off, irritated by his presumption. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know anything about me. What the fuck is he even talking about? A lot of spiritualistic nonsense. “I will be the best fighter at this school!” I inform him. “And that includes you. By graduation day—” “I’m only staying a year,” Snow says, standing up. “I came here as a favor to the Chancellor.” “To teach us to box?” “Actually, he needed a new medic,” Snow chuckles. “Herman Cross retired. My wife Sasha is a doctor. She agreed to fill in for a year until they could find someone permanent. I’m just tagging along.” “Oh,” I say, not sure how to respond. I hadn’t imagined Snow having a wife and possibly children. He hardly seemed human, before this moment. “Keep ice on that face,” Snow says, standing up. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

I found Dean crying in a bathroom very much like this. Why was he so upset that day? Why did the death of Ozzy’s mother strike him so hard? I don’t understand Dean Yenin. I don’t understand why he’s so full of rage and bitterness. God my head is a jumble of thoughts, none of them pleasant.

“Watch where you’re going, Cat,” he hisses into my face. “Let go of her,” Rakel says. “Fuck off, Black Death,” Dean snarls at her. “Eat shit, Zack Morris,” Rakel sneers back at him. “Rakel!” I gasp, half-choked by Dean’s grip on my collar. “Just . . . go on without me.” She stares at me like I’m speaking Swahili. “Please!” I wheeze. “Just go.” She looks between Dean and me for several seconds. Then she narrows her eyes and says, “Fine. If that’s what you want.” She heads off to the dining hall without me. Dean releases his grip on my shirt so I can breathe again. “That’s better,” he says softly.

“You mean, ‘Yes, sir,’ ” Dean corrects me. My cheeks flame and I feel an intense impulse to tell him to fuck off. But that would be suicidal. “Yes, sir,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “Good girl,” Dean says softly. His low purr sends a thrill through my body. Am I completely fucked in the head that I feel a flush of warmth at his approval? Maybe it’s just relief that he might not have me murdered in the immediate future.

What the fuck is his problem? Since when does he hate makeup? Anna Wilk wears a shit-ton of product on her face, and it never seemed to bother him any. I don’t think he hates makeup at all. He just relishes my misery.

I hope he chokes on these fucking grapes. I’d like to ram them right down his throat.

How can I loathe someone so much, and yet I can’t take my eyes off him? I’ve never been so present. I see the tiny golden hairs on Dean’s skin, the minute lines on his perfectly-shaped lips, the edges of his strong, white teeth. I feel his breath on my fingertips, warm from his lungs and faintly scented grape.

Once again I’m a little shadow, stuck to the side of a smarter, stronger person. Only this time, it’s not my lovely sister I’m trailing. I’m bound to the devil instead.

She hates it, yet she has to do it. And that is indescribably delicious to me.

Nothing has ever gone right for me. Until now. Cat is a gift that fell into my lap. And nothing and no one can take her from me—because I know her secret. I hold her life in my hands. As long as she and I are the only two people who know what she did to Rocco Prince, I’m free to torment her to my heart’s content. God, how I love

Cat Romero is pretty. Her beauty isn’t as obvious as her sister’s. But the more I see of Cat, the more I begin to fixate on the details of her person. Her smooth, tan skin and her perfectly-shaped hands, like a suit of armor made in miniature to show the craftsmanship. Her pale pink lips, as heart-shaped as her face. Her sharp white teeth that flash into view when she dares to snarl at me. I wondered if I would get tired of this game, but the more I play with her, the more I want.

“You did well today,” he told me. “You mean I was a better babysitter,” I snorted. “If you can’t teach something, then you don’t know it very well yourself,” Snow said. I nodded, struggling against my residual resentment over how easily he’d beaten me.

“Did you think he would win?” I asked Snow, watching his face closely to see the truth, whatever he might reply. “No,” Snow said, firm and decisive. “Not even for a minute?” “No.” Snow shook his head. “But . . . how? How did you know you’d come back and win?” Snow smiled to himself. “I knew I would win because I promised Sasha I would,” he said. “And I’ve never failed her yet.” I looked at him narrowly, thinking he was joking. It was a ridiculous answer. No boxer could win a fight just to please his wife. Snow could see my incredulity. “A fight isn’t won by belief. But once you’ve done all you can in the gym . . .” He tapped my chest once more, reminding me of our previous conversation. “The last bit is in here. You’ll know that it’s true. Once you’ve found it yourself.”

“I’m hungry!” I complain even louder. “I’ve got something you can swallow,” Valon sneers. I start to retort, but Dean is too quick. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he barks at Valon. “What the hell?” Valon says, glowering. “I was just joking.” “Your jokes are stupid.” Dean stares Valon down, daring him to respond. Valon shifts in his seat but keeps quiet. “It’s tedious bringing your little pet over here if you’re not going to share,” Bram drawls, leaning back in his chair. He lets his wolfish eyes roam over me, not caring that Dean’s face is getting darker by the moment. “She belongs to me, not you,” Dean says. His voice is all the more deadly for how soft it’s become.

“What you did to Rocco proves that you’re as mafia as the rest of us. Maybe even more.”

“I want one month.” I swallow hard. “A month of what?” “A month of true slavery.” I fidget in place, the ancient wooden boards creaking under my feet. “I’m already doing all the things you asked.” He closes the space between us, looking down into my eyes. “I want more.” My heart is in my throat, like a bird in the hand, trying to escape. “Tell me what you want,” I whisper. Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He holds it between his thumb and index finger, letting it drop and hang suspended from his hand. A strip of leather with a single metal ring in the center. A collar. “I want you willing,” he says softly. “I want you obedient. And I want you completely under my control. For one month. From now until Christmas.” “And after that?” I say. “Then you’re free. I’ll never bother you again. And your secret is safe forever.”

I’ve always been a good girl, eager to please . . . Maybe I needed a master all along . . .

I walk into our first session feeling like the king of the world. Like nothing and no one could touch me. Snow quickly reminds me that if I’m the king of the world, then he’s Thor Odinson, and he can smite me any time he likes.

“Tell me,” I growl in her ear. “Tell me what he wants.” “He’s trying to find his parents!” Cat cries out. I pull back to look at her, surprised. “What?” Cat tosses her head angrily, making her dark curls fly. “He wants to know his biological parents,” she says. “You know he was adopted by the Grays. He doesn’t have a crush on me.” Her tone is disdainful, like that should have been obvious. She’s so irritated at me wringing this piece of information out of her that it must be true. “Why didn’t you just tell me that,” I say, sliding my fingers inside her warm wetness once more. Cat groans. “Because he doesn’t want anyone to know,” she mutters. “I don’t care what Hedeon wants,” I hiss in her ear, “I only care what I want. And you’d better share that attitude. Or I won’t be so nice to you . . .”

Her little pussy is like a soft pink shell, delicate and inviting. I’ve never eaten pussy before. I always thought it was beneath me. But I tasted Cat on my fingers and I want more.

I need you. No one has ever said that to me before.

I made her cum with my fingers and almost with my tongue. Now I want to see if she can cum all over this cock.

She was a virgin until this moment, I’m quite sure of it. She’s killed a man but never fucked one.

The pain of whipping and spanking is nothing compared to the pleasure that comes after.

It washes away the confusing complications of how I feel about Dean, or what I did to Rocco, or the highly inconvenient fact that the Sophomore Captain is none other than Lola-fucking-Fischer. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary when her name was posted in the commons. I hoped it would at least put her in a good mood. Unfortunately, it’s only emboldened her and Dixie in their tyranny. Leo, of course, will be Junior Captain. Claire Turgenev was chosen by the Seniors. “They should have picked her last year over that idiot Simon,” Rakel says. “Leo says he bribed people to vote for him.” “Plus, they’re just plain sexist,” Rakel says. “The Enforcers always vote for the biggest dude.” “It’s gonna be stiff competition,” I say nervously. “All the Captains are good.” “Don’t call Lola ‘good.’ ” Rakel sniffs. “It’s like calling an atom bomb ‘pretty.’ Just doesn’t sound right.” “She’s smart, though.” “I think you mean conniving.” “Talented.” “Obsessive,” Rakel corrects me. “Motivated.” I’m trying not to laugh. “Unhinged,” Rakel says, and we both give in to giggling.

“Move your ass!” Dixie David bellows at us on Lola’s behalf. “I’d like to shove this log up her ass,” Rakel mutters to me. I snort, then wipe the smile off my face as Lola glares at us. “You think it’s funny that the two of you are worse than worthless?” she snaps, tossing back her mane of shining caramel-colored hair. “Sorry, Great Leader,” I reply, in a tone of utmost politeness. “I didn’t know barking orders required both your hands and your mouth. Why don’t you pick up a log and help us?” Lola’s pretty face contorts with so much venom that she barely looks human. “You’re a parasite,” she hisses at me. “A worm under my feet. You don’t belong here. And you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“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. I know she’s joking, but I feel an uneasy guilt that makes my laugh sound strange. “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.

“He’s an excellent coach.” “The best,” Sasha says proudly. “He trained our son Zane, and he’s sure to become a champion as well.” “Where is he now?” I ask. “In New York with our daughter Faye. They share an apartment together. She’s in med school.” “Both of them follow in your footsteps,” I say. Sasha nods. “We didn’t expect it—they could have done anything; it didn’t matter to us.”

It occurs to me that when I first met Cat, I mostly observed her while she was stressed or scared. Often due to my own behavior toward her. Now that she’s relaxing a little . . . she’s actually quite playful. I like it. She’s teasing me and even flirting with me, like she’s trying to get a rise out of me. If she wants to poke the bear, I’m happy to show her how beastly I can be.

“Aren’t you getting enough practice already, Dean?” “Might as well hit Bodashka as the heavy bag,” I say. “They’re equally useless at fighting back.”

What would it be like to share all that had happened to you with another person, instead of keeping it locked inside yourself?

“She’s very beautiful,” I say. Snow chuckles. “The most beautiful woman in the world. And yet, that’s only my tenth favorite thing about her.”

“I thought Cat might be seriously injured,” I reply stiffly. “It’s good to care about someone,” Snow says. “It’s not like that.” “You don’t care about her?” Snow says, turning his head to fix me with that cool stare. It’s impossible to lie to him. He sees everything, from my smallest mistakes to the rebellious thoughts in my head. “Maybe I do,” I admit. “A little bit.” “That’s good,” Snow repeats. “Love is not weakness.” “I don’t love her.” “Love is not just for a wife,” Snow says. I’m not sure what that means. We jog on in companionable silence.

“Hey, I wanted to thank you,” Leo says. “For what?” I ask suspiciously. “Well, for all the work you put in on the challenge, for one thing.” “We came in third.” “Made it to the second round, that’s all that matters.” Leo shrugs. “But mostly I wanted to thank you for helping Cat.” “Why would you thank me for that?” I bristle at the idea that I was helping Cat for Leo, as if she belongs to him. I helped her for my own benefit, if anything. “Miles is gonna marry Zoe,” Leo says, as if stating the obvious. “So Cat is family.” “Oh,” I say. “Well.” Leo grins and gives me a friendly parting nod. “See ya around.” “See you,” I say. It’s the least-aggressive encounter Leo and I have ever had together. One might almost call it pleasant.

“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’m gonna put the biggest load inside you,” I growl. “Do it,” Cat whispers. “Give it to me.”

“Dean?” Cat says quietly. Her head shifts slightly on my chest as she looks up at me. “Yes?” I say. “Why do you always want everything to be so clean and organized?” “I like it that way. I hate mess. When something doesn’t smell good I can’t stop noticing—it nags at me, it distracts me, it drives me insane.” “Do I smell good?” Cat asks. “You smell better than anyone,” I tell her honestly. “Really?” she says, pleased. “It’s one of my favorite things about you. It’s like catnip, I can’t get enough.” I can tell she’s smiling, even though I can only see the edge of her face illuminated by the candlelight.

“I just . . . I just realized that no one would do that for me,” I tell her quietly. “Ozzy’s mother laid down her life for him. My mother left, and she didn’t even take me with her.”

“She should know that you belong to me, little kitten,” he says softly. “That means she has no right to fuck with you. Because when she fucks with you, she fucks with me.”

He towers over me like a god. I want to be on my knees before him. I want to worship him.

“Dean Yenin,” she says, batting those big blue eyes at me. “What a pleasant surprise.” “I doubt it’s pleasant, or a surprise,” I reply coolly. “Oh, it’s both, I assure you.” She smiles sweetly. “After all, when have you ever broken that brooding silence of yours to speak to me before?” “I’d prefer to keep it that way,” I say flatly. “But you’ve been putting your hands on something that belongs to me.” Lola pouts. “You can’t possibly mean Cat Romero.” “That’s exactly what I mean.” “That shy little mouse . . . she’s not worth the time to walk over here.” “And you’re not worth the breath that sentence took. So let’s cut this short. Cat is under my protection. You don’t talk to her. You don’t touch her. Is that simple enough for you?” A flicker of anger crosses Lola’s face. She quickly smooths it away, putting out a hand to still Carter and Belkie, who shift menacingly in their seats. “And what do I get in return?” she inquires. “After all . . . Cat lost the Quartum Bellum for us.” “You did that to yourself,” I say coldly. “In fact, I should break your fucking neck for trying to break hers. As for what ‘you get’—how about I let your henchmen keep their arms. Unless they try to stand up from those seats again, in which case, I’ll use Carter’s fist to beat Belkie’s fuckin’ head in.” Lola toys with a lock of her shining hair, her eyes bright with interest, as if she’d enjoy watching that happen, even to her own friends. She stands up, crossing the space between us with an unneces...

“Dean?” she says, confused. “What is it?” “Do you want to go to the dance with me?” I say. “The Christmas dance?” Cat asks, as if there’s another one. “Yes,” I hiss, impatient and already regretting this. Regretting it because . . . if she says no, I’m going to have to burn this whole school to the ground. Cat hesitates. The seconds stretch out torturously. I’m about to abandon this whole idea and leave when at last she says, very softly, “That would be nice.” I search her face, trying to see if she really means that. Cat has grown up a lot in the time I’ve known her, but right now she looks just as young and scared as she did on the very first day of school. “Alright,” I say gruffly. “See you tonight, then.” “See you tonight,” she whispers. I leave, my guts still churning with anger. But maybe just a little bit less than before.

“You know, Dean’s been acting halfway human lately. Maybe he’s grown up a little. Haven’t we all?” “Maybe . . .” Chay says slowly. “But you know, you can’t turn a wolf into a puppy.” “That’s alright.” I shrug. “I don’t want him to be a puppy.”

“Why are you wearing that?” He’s looking at the collar around my neck. “I thought . . .” “The month is over. You can take it off.” “Alright,” I say hesitantly. I reach behind my neck to undo the buckle, fumbling with the cold-stiffened leather. Dean turns me around and deftly unbuckles the collar with his much-stronger fingers. My neck feels cold and naked without it. I’ve worn that collar almost constantly this last month. Dean slips it in his pocket. I feel strangely rejected, as if he’s taken something from me. “Our deal is done,” Dean says, his purplish eyes fixed on mine. “You held up your end of the bargain. And your secret is safe. I’ll never speak a word of it to anyone. In fact, you don’t have to do this tonight.” He nods toward the pale golden light leaking out of the heavy double doors. “We can go inside, part ways, and never speak again, if that’s the way you want it.” “Is that what you want?” I ask, looking up at him, his face like marble in the moonlight. He flinches and I see it—the crack in his armor. And the real person beneath. “No,” he says quietly. “I don’t want that either,” I say, slipping my hand into his. “I want to dance with you tonight.” “Good,” Dean breathes. “Because the way you look in that dress—I couldn’t stand to see you dance with anyone else.” My heart is beating faster than it ever has before—even in Dean’s and my most vigorous moments.