Year Four (Kingmakers, #4)

by Sophie Lark

Kade, Dean, Hedeon, Leo, and Anna all wait in the gloom. A pile of scuba suits and a dozen tanks lean up against the wall—Leo faithfully bringing everything I asked. And something I wasn’t expecting. “What’s Anna doing here?” I demand. He shrugs guiltily. “I tell her everything.” “You should have told me yourself,” Anna says to me, with a stern look. “I thought we were friends.” “We are friends,” I say. “Or at least, I hope we still are.” “Why’d you bring Sabrina?” Kade asks me. “No one brought me,” Sabrina says, eyes darting from person to person as she tries to make sense of the madness. “I saw Anna leaving our dorm dressed like a fucking cat burglar, and I was curious. I thought you guys were doing something fun without me.” “We are,” Leo says, bluntly. “So go back to your dorm.” “I’m not going anywhere! And I’m especially not leaving Nix,” Sabrina says, with a furious look at her half-choked roommate. “Sabrina’s too young to come with us,” Leo says to me. “Plus her dad will murder us.” “I don’t fucking want her,” I say. The minutes are slipping away. We’re on a tight schedule—I don’t have time to deal with Sabrina Gallo, or any other interruptions. With no clear understanding, but an intense desire not to be left out of anything exciting, Sabrina declares, “I AM coming with you, and if you try to stop me, I’ll wake the whole goddamned school up.” I round on her, still supporting the limp and dazed weight of Nix. “I don’t have time for this!” I shout. “I’ve got to go ri...

“Who are you?” I ask him, furiously blinking back the burning tears that want to flood my eyes. “You’re not Ares Cirillo.” “No,” he says. “I’m not. My name is Rafe Petrov.” The pieces fall into place. Kade Petrov. Rafe Petrov. And . . . Miss Robin. That beautiful face, those brilliant eyes, that low, husky voice like a thrill across the skin . . . so similar to Ares. To Rafe, I should say . . . “She’s your mother,” I murmur. “Yes,” Rafe nods. “She’s Sloane Petrov.” “You lied to me all along. From the day we met.” “Yes,” he says. And now I see a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but I don’t fucking care. I don’t care if he feels bad about it. “So what is it, then?” I say. “Revenge? My father killed someone you love, and now you’re going to kill me?” “No!” Rafe cries. “No one’s killing you. No one’s going to hurt you, Nix.” “Liar,” I say, bitterly. “Look,” Rafe says, gripping a handful of his own hair before roughly pushing it back. “Marko has my father. He’s been holding him prisoner, extorting us for money. We’re finally getting my dad back. I had to bring you as insurance. But I promise you Nix, no one is going to hurt you. I won’t let that happen.” “You’re not going to hurt me. You’re just going to kill my father in front of me. Is that right?” I ask him. Now Rafe’s face darkens with that shadow that I’ve seen before. When I’ve caught glimpses of who he really is. “He has to pay for what he’s done,” Rafe says. “I won’t help you,” I say, through gritted teeth. “I’ll fight you...

“It’s impossible to be neutral in our world. You have to pick a side. Are you sure which side you want to be on?” “I’m not going to turn against my own father,” I hiss. “And Rafe won’t turn against his,” Sabrina says. “So I guess you’ll both immolate yourselves for your dads.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have been intimate with you.” “Is that what we were?” I say. “Intimate? Or was it just me who was intimate, and honest, and real, while you were a fucking lying snake.” Now Rafe’s anger flares to match mine. He seizes me by the front of my shirt, bringing our faces close together. “I’ve told you things I never told anyone in my life,” he growls. “I felt things with you I’ve never felt. I fell into you like a well and I’m still fucking falling. I never lied when I said I love you.” “Just about everything else!” I cry. “I don’t care about anything else!” he shouts back at me.

“You plan to drag me along underwater?” Nix says, holding up her handcuffed wrists. “You’ll swim, or you’ll run out of air in that underwater maze and drown in the dark,” my mother says, calmly. “And if you don’t cooperate, I need you to remember that your father has kept my husband prisoner for three and a half years. You’re only breathing right now because I think you might be of use to me. The moment you become a hindrance instead of a help, I’ll snap my fingers like this,” she gives one crisp click of her finger and thumb, “and that will be the sound of a bullet entering the back of your skull. Do we understand each other?” “I understand,” Nix says. My stomach is one solid knot. I know better than anyone that my mother means exactly what she says. But if she tries to hurt Nix . . . I can’t let her do it.

Adrik seizes Nix by the arm, pulling her to the front of the pack. He points his rifle right at her spine. “You lead the way,” he says. “And if you get any brilliant ideas about yelling out or trying to run off . . . I’ll cut the cord to your legs.” I shove my way between Adrik and Nix, standing between her and the gun. “Don’t touch her, and don’t fucking threaten her,” I snarl. Adrik stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “She’s not your girlfriend,” he scoffs. “She’d shoot you in the back right now if she was the one holding the rifle.” I look at Nix. Her stare is as furious as I’ve ever seen it. But I don’t believe she’d shoot me. “I don’t give a shit,” I say. “No one touches Nix but me.” Adrik shakes his head in disgust. “You’ve been Ares too long,” he says. That stings. Do I really seem so different to my cousins, my sister, my own parents? Do they think I’m not one of them anymore? “Nix goes in front,” I say, “I’ll be right behind her.” Now it’s me with my gun pointed at her back. I see her stiffen, with hurt or with outrage. It doesn’t matter. She’s safer this way. Because no matter what she does, I’ll never pull the trigger.

Rafe looks down, seeing my hand clutching his forearm. “I’ll stay right by you all the time,” he promises. I let go of him, angry at myself for showing weakness. Angry for needing him.

“Remember what I told you, my little fox: nothing could keep me from coming back to you.”

“What are you doing here, Nix?” he says, hoarsely. “What are you doing, Dad?” I reply, my voice cracking. “What is this place?” He shifts his bulk, his right eyelid twitching as it always does when he’s stressed or angry. “You know the mine,” he says, gruffly. “I told you about this.” “No,” I say, flatly. “No, you didn’t.” “Well what does it matter!” he shouts. “I was going to show you. This is all for you someday.” The thought of owning this dark underground place, those prison cells, makes my skin crawl. “I don’t want this,” I say. “What the hell are you talking about!” my father roars. His whole hand is shaking now, the barrel of the gun jittering against Kade’s ear. Kade’s skin shines like wax. “Don’t hurt him,” I say, nodding toward Kade. “Let him go. He’s my friend.” “He’s your friend?” my father howls, outraged. “Have you lost your mind? These are your worst fucking enemies, Nix! That’s Ivan Petrov! It’s his fault your mother is dead! His fault she was never avenged!” “You had your revenge,” Ivan says, his voice colder than frost and harder than steel. “We killed Taras together. Then you tracked down his wife and children and you slaughtered them, too. You killed his uncles and his cousins. There’s barely a Banderovtsy left alive.” “AND IT STILL WON’T BRING HER BACK!” my father bellows, his face redder than his beard. My stomach is churning. We killed Taras together . . . Then you slaughtered his wife . . . and his children . . . That wasn’t part of the story, when ...

“How much money did he take from you?” she asks. “I’ll pay you back every cent.” My father looks at her, his eyes dark as flint. “Money can’t repay what was taken,” he says. Nix trembles under his stare, but she holds his gaze. “What can I offer, then?” she says. “You can offer yourself,” my father says. “Your mind, your body, your soul, your loyalty, your life . . . to my son.” Nix turns to look at me, and for some reason, it’s harder for her to meet my eyes. She bites her lower lip, her head bowed, hair hanging down over her face. I cross the space between her and tilt up her chin so she has to look at me. “I want you,” I say to her. “I want your wildness. I want your passion. I want you to love me the way you love the wind and the water and the outdoors. I want you to be untamable, except by me. I want you to be my wife.” She takes a deep breath, holding my gaze at last. “Yes,” she says. “I will.” “You’ll come to America with me. We’ll rebuild everything your father tried to destroy.” Nix’s lower lip trembles. I’m sure she’s thinking of her home outside of Kyiv, the acres of land, the sprawling compound that will sit empty, abandoned, without her or her father or any of his men. “Will you miss Kyiv?” I ask her. She shakes her head, slowly. “It will always be empty, whether I return to it or not. Home is the people you love, not a building, not a place. I want to go home with you, Rafe.” I love the sound of my name on her lips—my real name. I grab her by the shoulders an...

“In fact,” my father tells Dominik, once we’re all back at the hospital in Almaty, “I think it’s time you considered it your own. You’ve been Pakhan in all but name for a long time.” Dominik frowns, the scar on his right cheek crinkling where it runs past his eye. “I don’t care about a title, brother. The monastery will always be your home.” My father shakes his head. “It belongs to you, Dom. St. Petersburg belongs to you. I raised my children in America. I made that their home.” He turns to face Dean Yenin, who’s sitting next to Leo’s bed, a book open on his lap, trying not to listen in though of course he can understand everything being said in Russian. “You owed two years to Danyl Kuznetsov?” my father asks. “I did,” Dean says. “I’ve agreed to pay a stipend to Danyl’s widow to compensate for the loss of her husband. Your service transfers to me,” my father explains. Dean nods slowly. “You helped my son to find me,” my father says. “I consider your service completed in full. If you want to join us in Oregon, we’d be glad to have you. But you’re free to choose.” A look of stunned relief spreads across Dean’s face. I know those two years weighed heavily on his shoulders—especially once he fell in love with Cat. He wanted to be free to start his life with her, and he hated the anvil around his neck, impossible to shake off. “Thank you,” Dean says. “I’m honored by your offer. I’ll consider it carefully.” My father nods, then turns to Hedeon. “I offer the same to you, if you ...

“Do you feel happy now that you got what you wanted?” I look at my parents who are eating and talking with Freya and Dom, my father’s arm around my mother’s waist. “I’m at peace because we have my father back,” I say. “But I’m happy because of her.” Hedeon follows my gaze away from my parents towards Nix, who’s crowded on the empty bed next to Leo’s with Anna and Sabrina on either side of her, smiling faintly for the first time in several days. Hedeon’s eyes linger on Anna’s face. I’m sure he’s thinking of features very like hers, only a little different in color . . . “I’m going back to Kingmakers,” he says. “Might as well finish. Only a few months left.” “I think that’s the right choice,” I say, trying not to smile.

I would do anything for Nix. I CAN do anything for her. I’m invincible when I’m with her.

“Do you resent what I did?” I killed her father right in front of her. He was trying to hurt her, but still . . . I can only imagine what she must be feeling. Her eyes are as wet and gleaming as the ice. She fights to hold back the tears, to keep control of herself. “I don’t resent you,” she says. “I feel . . . I feel like I started to lose my father the day I stepped foot on that ship. I lost the part of him that never existed in the first place. But still . . . even then, once I started to realize . . .” Her cheeks are burning red and her shoulders heave as she tries to hold back the hurt that can’t be contained. “Even after . . . I never would have believed that he’d . . .” I stop skating grabbing her and pulling her against my chest so she can sob without embarrassment, her face hidden from view. For the first time she cries not for her father, but for what he tried to do to her. For how he turned on her when he believed she had betrayed him. I let her exhaust herself against my chest, while I rub slow circles on her back with the palm of my hand. When she looks up at me, her face tear-streaked and swollen, she says, “Everything I believed about him was only a fantasy. Even this great love he had for my mother . . . I can’t help but think that if she was still alive, if she saw all the things he’s done, she would have hated him. And if she didn’t agree with him, if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted, he would have hated her, too. She’s only perfect in his memory beca...

“I’m going to fuck you like this every day of our lives. Inside. Outside. Everywhere we go . . .” “You promise?” she gasps. “Only if you cum for me. Cum all over that cock . . .”

“Just tell anyone that asks that you were holed up in your room with the flu,” Leo says. “Yeah? And how’s Hedeon gonna explain why he’s hobbling around like an old man, and why Kade’s missing half an ear?” Dean snorts. “You better just worry how you’re going to explain to Cat how your ‘quick and simple field trip to help Ares’ turned into a week-long excursion that almost got us all killed,” Anna says to Dean. “Don’t remind me,” Dean says, miserably. “She’s gonna fucking kill me.” “Don’t worry,” Anna says, sweetly. “I’m sure you won’t even see it coming when she does.”

As we pile out of SUV, Adrik grabs Sabrina by the arm and pulls her back. “When am I going to see you again?” he growls. “What makes you think you’re going to see me again?” Sabrina says, tossing back her mane of dark hair. “I AM going to see you again,” Adrik informs her. “I was simply offering you the courtesy of choosing the time and place.” I can see the temptation to smile tugging at the corners of Sabrina’s full lips as she attempts to scowl instead. “I’ll think about it,” she says. “Not good enough,” Adrik retorts. “I’m picking you up on this dock on the last day of school. Wear something nice.” “That would be a first for both of us,” Sabrina snorts, with a contemptuous look at Adrik’s torn jeans, t-shirt, and uncut hair. She turns away from him, ready to board the boat, but Adrik can’t stand letting her have the last word. He seizes her arm, whips her around again, and aggressively kisses her. Then he lets go and stalks off back to the car. Sabrina is stunned to silence—perhaps for the first time in her life. She stands there for a moment with a slightly dazed expression, then follows Anna and Leo onto the boat. “That good?” I ask her. “He’s definitely . . . something,” Sabrina replies.

Anna asks, “What did Adrik say about you trying to beat his record?” Leo grins. “He said he’d never forgive me if I win. But he won’t respect me if I lose.” “That’s as close to a blessing as you’re gonna get from him,” Kade laughs. “If you hadn’t pulled Leo out of the water, it would have been down to Kade and me,” Sabrina says to Dean, sourly. “Well, I sort of owed it to him,” Dean says. Leo gives Dean a fist bump. “We’re even. ‘Til the next time I need your help.”

“Do you think you and I ever looked at the same star at the same time?” I ask him. “I’m sure we looked at the moon at the same time.” I laugh. “It’s funny to think that the Oregon moon and the Kyiv moon are the same.” “The wind that touched your skin might have blown all the way across the world to me,” Rafe says. “Maybe that’s why you smelled so good to me, the moment I got near you.” We stop on the grass so he can kiss me. When we break apart I say, “You know . . . I kind of like the way we met. It will be something to tell our kids someday.” “Yes,” Rafe says. “Only we’ll tell them all of it, the whole thing. The good, the bad, and everything in between.” “That’s right,” I nod. “The truth is always the best story.”

Ares shakes my hand, giving me a lopsided smile. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he says. “Likewise,” I reply, and I can’t help laughing. Ares laughs with me, understanding at once what I mean. Rafe looks chagrined. “Wondering which one of us you actually fell in love with?” he says to me. I slip my hand in his and kiss him on the corner of his mouth, where his stubble rasps against my lips. “Don’t worry,” I say. “You were yourself all along.”

Dominik, Lara, Kade, and Adrik were here up until last week, and Sabrina Gallo came to visit on her way back to school, though neither she nor Adrik would admit that they purposefully came at the same time to see each other. This despite the evidence of disappearing for long periods of time, then returning in a distinctly rumpled state.

“When I met Marko, he reminded me of my father. And when I met you . . . you reminded me of me. Determined. Tenacious.” My cheeks flushed. “I couldn’t ask for a better compliment,” I said. “Our fathers shape us,” Sloane said, zipping her case. “But it’s our husbands who determine what we truly become. And us them. A couple is the sum of both of you together—as strong as you are together. As happy as you are together.” “I’ve never seen a couple as powerful as you and Ivan,” I said. “I hope you and Rafe will surpass us,” Sloane said. “In your own way and your own time.”

We’ve only been driving a few minutes when he pulls into a small neighborhood along the cliffs. It’s not as fancy as where his parents live—the yards are overgrown with untamed gardens and untrimmed trees, the roofs covered in moss. The houses are small, cedar-plank sided with ramshackle decks. We’ve stopped in front of a cabin so covered in honeysuckle vines that I can hardly see the house at all. “What do you think?” Rafe asks. “I love it!” I tell him, honestly. “It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere. But we’re five minutes from Shake Shack.” Rafe laughs. My growing obsession with American burgers has toured us through every grill in a fifty-mile radius. “I want to buy this house for you,” he says. “I thought we could live here when we get married in the spring. If you really do like it.” I can’t speak. My heart is beating too hard. The cabin is right on the edge of the cliff. From the back deck, we’ll be able to watch the sun set over the ocean. A set of rotting wooden steps leads down the cliff to the beach. “We’ll fix those,” Rafe says, nodding in the direction of the top step clinging to the rock face by a single nail. “We’ll fix up the whole house. I’ll make it exactly how you want it.” “If you’re in it,” I say. “That’s the only thing I care about.”

“Do you like teaching?” she asks me. I think about my boxing classes—about the thrill I get when one of the students does something right for a change. Even that kid from Coney Island. “Yeah,” I say. “I like it.” “Would you be disappointed if you couldn’t finish the year?” I frown at her, confused. “I’m only here because I thought you wanted to finish.” “I did. But now I’m worried it might not be safe,” Cat takes a deep breath. “For the baby.” I stare at her for a moment, not quite understanding. Then the racing of my heart jolts my brain. “Are you serious?” I whisper. “Very serious,” she says. “And very sure.” I scoop Cat up in my arms, holding her tight against me, squeezing her hard but not too hard. My eyes are burning, my heart pounding, my throat too tight to speak. “We’re gonna have a baby?” I croak. “Yes,” she says, “Sometime in June.” I can’t stop hugging her. I can’t let go, even for a second. “You should have told me!” I cry. “I wouldn’t have spanked you.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cat snorts. “I made sure you weren’t too rough.” “What about the—” “That’s fine, too. It won’t hurt him.” “Him? You think it’s a boy?” She laughs. “I don’t know. I mean . . . I have a feeling. An inclination. But it’s just a guess.” I nuzzle my face against her hair, breathing in the clean scent of her scalp. I need to smell her to calm myself down, because I’m experiencing a mixture of joy, excitement, and terror so acute that I feel like my heart might explode. “I’m so, so glad,” I tel...

Then I call Snow. He picks up on the third ring. It’s 5:00 p.m. in New York, six hours earlier than here. “Dean,” he says, in that deep, gravelly voice—rough on the surface, but warm underneath. “Snow. It’s good to hear your voice.” “Likewise, my friend. Are you and Cat coming to see us soon?” “Well . . .” I say. “If we do, there will be three of us coming . . .” Snow catches on quicker than me. He chuckles. “Congratulations, Dean. There’s nothing like having a child. You’ll see.” My skin feels hot and cold at the same time. I grip the phone tight against my ear. “How do I do it?” I ask. “I don’t know how to be a father.” “In some ways it’s like being a coach or a mentor,” Snow says. “But in some ways it isn’t. A coach is there if you want them. If you don’t want the goal anymore, then they don’t coach you. A father does whatever it takes for his son to achieve his goals. A coach praises when the goal is met. A father always shows that he’s proud of his son. You build your child up, and never tear him down, because you love him. And that makes it harder—because you’re not controlling where they go. You don’t control their goals. Be the kind of father that accepts your son’s decisions.” I nod slowly, though Snow can’t see me. “That’s how I want to be,” I say. “Most of all,” Snow says, “a father never gives up on his son. Your child may struggle at times. He may scream at you, hate you, push you away. But you will always be there to help him when he needs you most.” “Yes, I ...

“I’ve got something that might work,” he says. “You brought a dress?” I say, trying not to smile. “That’s daring, even for you. Though you do have incredible legs . . .” Miles grins. “Yeah, I bet you’d love to see that. Sorry to disappoint—this dress was always for you.” He covers my eyes with his hands, walking me through the main room of our suite into the bedroom. “Is this just a ruse to get me back in that bed?” I say. “Possibly,” Miles says. “Depends how much you like your gift . . .” He pulls his hands away, revealing a strapless gown artfully displayed on the coverlet, with a pair of matching silk gloves, a belt, and high-heeled shoes in precisely the same shade of shocking pink. I stare at the dress, hands over my mouth. “You didn’t . . .” I whisper. “It’s not the real one,” Miles says, quickly. “I mean, I’ll buy that for you if you want, but it’s so old it would fall apart if you tried to wear it. I had a replica made. It’s all peau d’ange silk, just like the original, and look, the lining’s black satin. The palms of the gloves are even suede, just like in the film.” “How on earth did you remember?” I say. Three years ago, I told Miles that my dream dress was the one Marilyn Monroe wore in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. I used to watch that movie all the time with my abuela. I’ve never mentioned it since. “I remember everything you say to me,” Miles tells me, his expression serious. It’s true—Miles never forgets. He never misses details. He never fails to come through....

Anna and Leo sit directly in front of us, Leo grinning brighter than I’ve ever seen. The reason is obvious—his hand rests on Anna’s belly, which stretches the limits of her tight black dress.

Ozzy’s dad performs the ceremony. He keeps it short and simple. “Ozzy was in love with Chay from the moment he laid eyes on her. Chay took a little more convincing.” We all laugh. “But I think it’s clear to see that no couple could be more excited to finally tie the knot. Ozzy, you’re damn lucky to have this girl. And Chay, no one will ever be more devoted to you than my son. I know the two of you will never be bored together. And god help anyone who stands in your way!” Before he can give the order, Ozzy seizes Chay, bends her backward, and kisses her as if he’s waited years to do it. We all whistle and cheer, Caleb Griffin throwing handfuls of rainbow-colored petals on the couple as he’d been instructed to do as the flower boy.

Baby was in a hurry. We barely made it to the hospital in time. Cat handled it like a champion—Levi Yenin is 7 lbs. 6 oz, 22 inches long. So fucking happy to have him here.

I’m dressing for Sabrina’s engagement party. After two years of arguing over whether they’ll live in St. Petersburg or Chicago, she’s finally agreed to marry Adrik Petrov.

We’re all so busy and so scattered across the globe—it takes a wedding or a funeral to bring us all together. I know which one I prefer.

There are crossroads in life where you can either choose the cold truth you see in front of you, or you can choose to chase the impossible dream. It’s only by believing in that dream, and pursuing it, that you can turn it into a living, breathing reality. You must chase the dream to live the dream. Otherwise, it will only ever be an ephemeral fantasy in your mind.