Page 92 of Kingmakers, Year Three

“Sorry I’m late—” I begin.

“Never mind that,” Dean says. “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 whatyouwant?” 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.

I think we’re about to walk inside together, but Dean holds me back a moment longer.

“I did get you something,” he says, his breath frosting on the air.

He reaches into his breast pocket and takes out a flat velvet box.

“I don’t like to take something away without giving something in return.”

Dean opens the lid.

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.”

We enter the Grand Hall,decorated for the holidays with fresh fir boughs that fill the air with the smell of pinesap and deep, cold forest. A fire roars in the massive hearth, offset by the two double doors standing open.

Almost every student at Kingmakers is crowded in here. The Christmas dance is the only official school party of the year, and no one likes to miss it.

Even the Chancellor is in attendance, dressed in a tuxedo that looks more like a smoking jacket with its velvet lapels. I have a deep-seated loathing for him, after the way he executed Ozzy’s mother. But I can’t deny his powerful magnetism that draws the eye of everyone around.

---