Year Two (Kingmakers, #2)

by Sophie Lark

Knowing you’re loved, truly loved, by at least one person makes all the difference in the world.

Technically, I’m the one in the wrong. Rocco and Zoe are engaged, and I have no right to interfere in their business. On the other hand, Rocco fucking sucks and the more I get to know Zoe, the more I think it’s tragic for her to be the plaything of this lunatic.

“Are you flirting with me, Miles?” I consider denying it. But Zoe is so honest, it demands the same from me. “Yes,” I say simply. “I definitely am.” “Do you think that’s a good idea?” “No. And I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to keep doing it, unless you tell me to stop.” I watch her face closely, to see her reaction to this. She considers. “I don’t want you to stop,” she says. “Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t going to.” She laughs.

I don’t know if I ever heard Zoe laugh before this year. It’s a captivating sound, low and intimate, meant only for me. “I knew you were trouble,” she says. “You have no idea.”

I’ve never had a circle of friends like this, who make me feel safe and accepted. I know they’re Zoe’s friends really, but they’ve welcomed me with open arms, as if I’m just as important and interesting as her, even though I’m not. Kingmakers still terrifies me. I’m covered in bruises and cuts, from a variety of classes. Yet . . . I don’t hate it here. I could even imagine a time that I might like it. Maybe on my graduation day, if I somehow learn how to fight between now and then, and I stop embarrassing myself every other day. Stranger things have happened.

“Why are you better at this than I am?” I demand. “I wouldn’t say that,” Miles growls, his face very close to mine, my fingers wrapped up in his, our bodies pressed tight together. “I’d say nobody on this dance floor looks better than you.”

We both know we can’t, and yet I allowed myself to pretend otherwise. I enjoyed the fantasy that I could talk to a boy I liked, flirt with him, dance with him. I let myself experience the feeling of actually falling for someone, reveling in that sense of mutual attraction. I had never felt it before. It was intoxicating. But now I’ve crossed the line. And it felt too good. So good that I’m terrified of what I’ll end up doing if I don’t stop now.

“I can’t kiss you anymore,” I say. “And I can’t be alone with you.” “I’m not going to argue with you, Zoe,” Miles says, his eyes burning into mine. “I’m also not going to stop.”

I’m going to save Zoe from Rocco. I don’t know how, but I’m going to do it. Not to be a hero. I’m gonna do it because this is fucking wrong, and it can’t happen. She can never belong to him. Rocco sees the spark of decision in my face. He’s perceptive, I’ll give him that. It angers him. “I’ve never failed to get what I want, Miles,” he hisses. “I’m not like the other men you’ve faced. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I don’t give up. I can’t be threatened. I can’t be bargained with. None of your tricks will work on me.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. You can be however you want in front of me, Zoe. I like you all the ways. And that was sexy as fuck, by the way. I want to do it again right now.”

It sounds like this is for me, but it’s not. It’s for Zoe. I’m giving her permission to ask for what she wants, to beg for it even. And sure enough, as I knew it would, it tips her over the edge. She likes begging and she likes obeying me.

“I told my mother about you,” Miles says. “You did?” I’m stunned. For all the promises Miles made to me, this is something different, something concrete and real. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about moving forward with our relationship.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, Zoe,” he growls, his voice low and thick. “No sunset, no painting, no creation of god or man is more stunning than you.” He laughs. “Not even in Tasmania.”

Ozzy hadn’t seen the woman, fixated as he was on walking in a straight line. The look of anguish on his face tells me who she is. Not the Chancellor’s wife—this must be Ozzy’s mother. “NO! NOOOOOOO!” Ozzy screams, as Professor Penmark seizes him by the shoulders and drags him back.

The Chancellor faces the Dyers. With cold formality he announces, “The debt is paid.” The Dyers stand. Mrs. Dyer looks down at the fallen body of Mrs. Duncan, at the sheet of blood still spreading across the polished floor. Her upper lip twitches and she turns away, without even a glance to spare for the sobbing Ozzy. The Chancellor raises his hand to dismiss us.

Zoe brings out the best in me. She makes me smarter, stronger, more determined. And most of all, she holds back that dark and reckless part of me. She’s my rudder, my guide. I can’t fly without her, or I’ll crash and burn, I know it. And I fucking love her. That’s the most important part of all. I like her, I love her, I admire her, I adore her. I’m not abandoning her to Rocco’s torment. She doesn’t deserve that. I don’t care what it costs to save her, or what I have to risk.

Everyone knows when Rocco learns of the dissolution of his engagement, because he destroys the dorm room he shares with Dax Volker. He smashes up the furniture, rips the mattresses apart, even throws a chair through his own window. For that little tantrum, his family is fined and he’s forced to suffer the humiliation of working on the grounds crew for two weeks. I expect him to retaliate against Miles and Zoe immediately, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t so much as speak to Zoe, which she sees as a good sign.

She’s high on triumph, blissful and full of plans. I’m afraid that Miles is the same. They can’t see what I see. They’re not watching Rocco as he gets paler and more venomous by the day. He’s a snake that’s starving, and that only makes him more dangerous.