Horns by Bryce Fox

"Please don't get up again, Cass," Cain mutters, rolling into her and pressing his head into the hollow between her neck and shoulder. His arm wraps around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and stopping her from shifting any further away.

"I have to go, Cain," she mutters back before managing to turn around and place a kiss on his forehead. "I'll be back later. You're sleeping anyway. You won't even notice I'm gone."

"You don't have to go anywhere, Cass," he pleads, staring at her. This exact scenario plays out almost every fucking night and he is tired of it. Not tired of her staying over, of course. Thrilled about that. In fact, he wishes she'd just move in already instead of still insisting on spending every third or fourth night in her own home. Tired of her always having more work to do, no matter what ungodly hour of the night it is.

"I do. I have a meeting," she responds while maintaining a forced smile. She would rather pretend she doesn't know how he is feeling than confront something neither of them have any power over. But the pretending has gone on too long and Cain is tired of it.

"Let me guess, extorting someone?" he says, carefully disguising it as a joke to try to bury his own bitterness.

She laughs and quips, "The party line is that we are getting to know our guests."

We, Cain thinks, rolling the word over in his mind. She had never mentioned her late night work was a group affair before, so he knows this little slip is a mistake. In fairness, they do not talk about Tom together. So far, it has been easier for them to proceed as if he does not exist, except when he is imposing his presence on them. It is not easier now. Cain can't get it out of his mind. We. Her and Tom. Tom and her. Every night, nearly, for the last two months. Sitting at the casino, holding court.

Meanwhile, he has to write Tom begging for one chance each week to take her out. Dinners, he had learned, were often turned down. Better a banquet or a charity event, something sufficiently public that her absence on his arm would go noticed by the press. Of course, those have the downside that they are sufficiently public that Tom can show up to them too and, per his orders, force Cain to hand her over to him. At best, Cain has been able to get in a few dances with her before he shows up and after they inevitably get into some argument bad enough that Tom decides the diplomatic thing to do is return to his date. It has been unbearable, as he is sure Tom is purposefully making it to force his hand on their agreement. But he knows she is not ready quite yet, and he isn't willing to risk the consequences of a bad response on a rushed, half-hearted attempt. He's still planning, still trying to work up to it.

But this - this is really unbearable. He knew Tom had been the one who had arranged her investment in the casino. Still, was it foolish to let himself believe he would leave her alone to run it, as he did for the bookkeeping business with Cain or the creatures with Lestrange? Hell, he even let Nott run loose and make most of the decisions about what campaigns to offer his services to and what bribes to pay for himself. Tom is a busy man, too busy for something like this unless it is something he wants to do. He should have known he wouldn't stick to his old tricks. To their once weekly sales appointment and her forced position at his side during meetings. He should have known that wasn't enough for him, that he wouldn't just wait for Cain to break them apart.

How easy it is to underestimate the depravity of a man like Tom Riddle.

At his silence as he is wrapped in his thoughts, she stands and starts to pull her dress on, "I know it's been a big commitment so far, but I promise it won't always be. It took a lot to get the place in order, and we just reopened three weeks ago so certain matters still need to be settled. Within a week or two, things should be running smoothly and I can take a step back."

It won't always be, but he will always be, Cain thinks. Tom has been tightening his grip on her this whole time, coiling around her ready to strike, and what has he been doing? Living in the delusion that just because he hadn't heard about it, it hadn't been happening? Trying to plan some ridiculous proposal he had insisted she wanted despite the fact that every time he even mentioned anything about a future for them she changed the subject? Merlin, he'd clung so hard to those words he had waited decades to hear that he'd become blind to everything else.

Perhaps he's already struck. But she would tell him, wouldn't she? She wouldn't break his heart like that again, would she? Then again, she hadn't told him about the meetings.

He takes hold of her hand before she can walk away and smiles up at her as he proposes, "I would like to come with you, if you don't mind. Of course, I won't interrupt your meeting or anything like that, but it would be nice to see the casino now that it has been updated. To appreciate the product of all your hard work."

"Don't think Macnair didn't tell me who you walked in with. What is he doing here?" Tom hisses. He has an arm around her shoulders and his fingers are playing with her hair as he sits close enough to her that she can feel his breath on her neck in their private booth while waiting for their guestto arrive. They are hidden by paneled curtains that keep the booth sheltered from wandering eyes and ears when they wish for what's happening in it to be secret.

"Gambling, like everyone else," she shrugs. "Is there a reason he shouldn't be?"

"This might fit within the letter of our rules, but it is not in the spirit of them."

"I believe the particular rule you are thinking of applies when we are alone together. Right now, we are alone together, and he is elsewhere. When we finish this meeting and emerge onto the casino floor, we will no longer be alone together, will we?"

"Don't try to outwit me again or I will make a show of putting you back in your place."

She raises an eyebrow, "This isn't already a show?"

"A show would be if I slipped my hand between your legs and made you come for me loud enough for the whole floor to hear right now, my little harpy."

"You wouldn't dare…"

He pulls her into his lap, opening his legs to slide her between them before she can register what is happening and resist. His arm wraps around her waist to keep her in place. He challenges, "Push me again, Cassandra. Please. I am so eager to show him where you belong."

"This is not appropriate, and I don't think our guest will appreciate such a position during a serious meeting either."

"Trust me, Cass, he will," Tom whispers in her ear. His hand lands on her leg just above her knee, squeezing her skin. "Now stop complaining."

She rolls her eyes in response, her face showing how much she wants to bite back - but she knows better than to provoke him when he has already warned her twice, let alone when Cain is so close. As if on cue, the curtains open up again and an older gentlemen slips in on the opposite side of the booth.

"Robards, welcome," Tom says with a jovial smile.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Cassandra chimes in now, a sweet tone to her voice as she simpers, "Sit. Have a drink. You'll know soon enough."

The man follows their instructions, nursing the glass of firewhisky that was waiting for him as he looks at them. Most people would be nervous or scared, but she sees something else in his eyes. Not exactly suspicion. Interest perhaps. She, of course, knows how these meetings go, and is sure whatever it is will morph into fear soon.

Cassandra waits until he has relaxed into his seat before speaking again, "As I am sure you know, I now run this esteemed establishment. And I do like to make sure it runs smoothly. It has been brought to my attention that you seem to causing a bit of…trouble upstairs."

"Upstairs?" the man asks, leveling her with a glare. "I don't know what you mean."

Cassandra had moved the girls in upstairs permanently before the casino reopened. It would be safer for them there, she had thought. She'd set up alarm spells so that Macnair would be able to interrupt when any of them felt uncomfortable or were in trouble.

It was safer for her too, to be able to keep an eye on their activities and set rules for their business. No new guests, for one. Only loyal customers were aware of what happened upstairs, and telling anyone about it would get them banned from the entire place forever. Of course, there were also the fees she took from them, money she could not afford to forgo with all the debts she had to settle just to reopen the place. Having them upstairs meant it was harder for clients to stiff them - or Cassandra of her cut - when it could just be taken out of their winnings or their access suspended until their bill was paid.

The side benefits to Tom and his plans were quite significant in themselves, given now he knew exactly what got many men of power and wealth off, how often, and with whom, as well as about their spending habits and gambling debts. She does not get involved with the details herself, preferring to avoid knowing as much about the previsions of strange men as possible, simply showing up at whatever time he says and playing good cop to his bad cop.

"I know this is a casino, but we have not invited you here to play games," Tom warns. "We both know exactly what she is referring to, don't we?"

The other man shakes his head adamantly, "I have never been a client…"

Tom cuts him off with a smirk, "No, you just like to watch, Robards."

The man just tightens his grip on his glass and shifts his glare over to Tom.

Now Cassandra understands exactly what that look is in his eyes. Exactly why Tom had put her in this position in the first place. It is interest. Not in what Tom wants. In them. They are both objectively striking after all. It would be quite a scene to see them fuck. A scene she is sure has been playing itself out in this man's head since he arrived. Tom really is a master at manipulating people.

"To each his own," Cassandra declares to break the staring contest between them. "But it is scaring away some of the other clientele. Of course, the girls are happy to arrange something to indulge your particular fantasy - for a fee, understood?"

"Understood, miss," the man answers with as much indignation as possible for someone who has just admitted to wanking off outside prostitute's doors. "If that's all - "

"Not so fast. What about your past transgressions, Robards? Perhaps you can do something to make up for them," Tom says with a smile. "I am sure you recognized one of your employees on your way in, Robards. Cain Rosier is quite exceptional, isn't he? Such a shame he hasn't been promoted to senior undersecretary yet."

"That's a position that requires decades of experience! Mr. Rosier, while outstanding in his current role, has barely been out of school for -" the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports starts to protest.

"Yes, and taking advantage of the services of prostitutes requires payment, Mr. Robards," Cassandra points out. "Should we call up your wife to settle your accounts?"

"Go ahead, she already knows about my little indiscretions. Though I am afraid a regular ministry employee does not earn enough to pay your prices. As I don't have a trust fund to draw on, she won't be able to settle my debt. However, I am willing to agree to your offer of settlement if we can throw one little bonus in there."

Tom raises an eyebrow, "Your wife may already know about your habits, but let me remind you that our offer will keep the rest of the wizarding world from learning about them as well. What else would you like to add, sir?"

He looks between them one more time before asking, "You two are fucking, right?"

Tom laughs, loud and boisterous, immediately understanding what he is asking for. To avoid giving him a chance to answer, Cassandra quickly snaps, "No, we are not."

"Right, you're Rosier's little piece, aren't you? At least according to the papers. But I would love to get to know what happens behind closed doors. Perhaps in return for a demonstration…"

She scoffs. The smile on Tom's face grows to a wolf's grin as he says, "Come now, Cassandra, I think the man is offering a reasonable deal."

"If you really think - "

"Just close your eyes and pretend we are alone, darling."

She turns her head to glare at him like if he even thinks it about it she's going to burn it off, "You should be glad we aren't, darling."

A chuckle from the other side of the table and the clinking of ice in a glass as Robards raises his, "I would take a threat like that from our local murderess seriously if I were you."

She whips back at him, her glare shifting now and a too sweet smile appearing on her face, "You should take your local murderess more seriously as well, Mr. Robards. Unless you want your little habit to be on the front page of the Prophet tomorrow."

Tom sweeps her hair aside and lays his lips briefly on the skin just behind her ear to whisper a warning, "Don't waste our ammunition just because of your pride, Cassandra."

Tom separates from her to speak up so that Robards can hear too, "Cass, there's no need for such extreme measures. I am sure we can come to an understanding agreeable to all parties."

"I am not fucking you - "

"Perhaps someone else then? Maybe your boyfriend can finally earn that silver spoon he was born with. What do you say, Mr. Robards? Is that an agreeable compromise?"

"Most agreeable to me, though I must admit I am surprised you would offer it."

"Wonderful. How lucky that he decided to drop in today. Cass, why don't you go and see if Cain is willing to sing for his supper for once?"

"Tom - "

"It's him or me, Cass. You decide."

The glare she gives in response tells him she is going to have his head for this later. She slips from Tom's lap, but before she can leave, Robards speaks up again, "I do like you Ms. Malecrit. You're the kind of businesswoman the world needs more of."

She turns back and cocks an eyebrow, "And what kind of businesswoman is that?"

"The kind who enjoys playing with powerful men. As I mentioned, I am a bit short on cash these days. Perhaps we could even explore future opportunities."

"I'm sure Tom would be more than happy to discuss future business dealings."

She heads out through the curtain, resisting the urge to just not come back. She knows they need to convince him. That getting Cain into this position is a big part of their overall plans for the next few months. Knows that publishing the story now would be waste. Not to mention it would expose her own business activities in the scandal. Still, if Tom had tried to dissuade him rather than entertaining the idea, they would have moved on from it and found something else to agree on. She wouldn't be in this situation.

She finds Cain at the roulette tables, lazily betting while most of his attention is focused on a conversation with someone about his mother's upcoming midsummer gala for the London Magical Ballet. Someone as in some young woman who is very obviously trying to get an invitation to it from him, her flirting going overlooked. She touches his arm to get his attention before asking, "Darling, can I speak with you for a moment?"

The girl scowls. Cain beams as he turns to her and takes her hand, "Of course, love."

Once they are in the corner reasonably far enough away not to be overheard, she whispers, "I need a favor from you, please."

He pulls her closer, "Anything for you, Cass."

She laughs, "I'm not so sure this is within the scope of what you are contemplating. I need you to fuck me… in front of your boss."

It's his turn to laugh, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that right. Why on earth would Robards want - "

"It's what he gets off on. Tom and I are trying to negotiate something and he won't budge from this little request."

"If there's one person I am absolutely sure doesn't - "

"He was the one to suggest it," she says, cutting him off, words rushed. She just wants to get this conversation and this entire entire situation over with as soon as possible. "Look, I understand if it's too weird - "

"You need something from him?"

"Yes."

"And this is what you need to do to get it?"

"Yes."

"Then come on."

He pulls her by the hand back toward the corner he caught her emerging out of. She follows numbly, focusing on him instead of on this. The conversation in the booth halts as they walk past the curtain.

"A fortuitous day for you to attend, old friend," Tom says, raising a glass toward Cain from his position at the top of the booth. In realty, fortune had little to do with it. He had told Macnair to move this one up on the schedule as soon as he'd seen him walk in. "I think you recognize our guest."

"Hello, Robards. Seeing what I'm here for, I assume it won't be impolite of me to dispense of any small talk today."

Robards chuckles, "Cain Rosier, ever the gentlemen, still worried about his manners. Yes, I don't think any talk will be necessary."

Cain sits down across from the older man. She slips into Cain's lap, facing him. He does not look nearly as reluctant as she does - and she does not think that is just a trick of his acting abilities. She is sure he is eager to show Tom exactly what he can make her feel. Just as eager as Tom is to show him if she doesn't cooperate. Well, might as well piss Tom off in return.

She leans into Cain, her lips finding his as her hands tangle in his hair. She rises in his lap as she deepens the kiss. One of his hands finds her hip, steadying her balance, as the other tangles into her hair. He tugs slightly, a silent request which she grants by arching her head back and hovering so her neck is right in front of his lips.

Her hands slip down his shoulders and into his lap. At this angle and with the table in the way, the other two won't be able to see much except for their upper halves anyway, she figures. Her hand draws him out and she pulls her own underwear aside to slip onto him. He grabs her neck as they come face to face again, pulling her in for another kiss. Her eyes slip closed, losing the rest of the room. All they can hear now is their own heavy breathing, all they can feel is their own burning desire to possess the other.

She opens them again only to meet his, the piercing blue even more icy than usual. Their foreheads leaned together, they stare into each other's eyes as he tips her over the edge. The intimacy between them is not overlooked by Tom, and when she throws her head back with a silent scream as she comes she can see his jaw twitching.

His unhappiness inspires a thought in her head as she sinks back into Cain's lap. She leans forward and whispers in his ear just loud enough that she knows Tom will overhear, "I want you to put a baby inside me, love."

Cain groans at the statement as she knew he would, spilling into her a second later as he places soft kisses down her neck and shoulders. He pulls her closer, holding her as they both catch their breath. When she finally wakes from her trance, she realizes she did not hear the curtain move, so she glances over her shoulder and is glad to see that Tom dismissed their guest now that the show is over.

Rustling next to her soon indicates Tom is preparing to leave as well. He stands, announcing one last order before turning to leave, "Cassandra, you will stay. We have plans to discuss. I will be waiting in the office. Congratulations on your promotion, Cain."

The sudden promotions of all of the other knights over the last few weeks now make considerably more sense to Cain. He had wondered how Tom was accomplishing them all without asking any of them to use their connections in the ministry at all or drawing on more funds. He now has senior staff in half a dozen of the most important departments under his thumb, effectively giving him a detailed view of the ministry's overall operations that even department heads and the minister herself probably do not have. Masterful extortion indeed.

But who cares? Certainly not Cain. He's going to win anyway.

It takes Cassandra 15 minutes to wrench herself away from Cain and convince him to go home, what with his continued kisses and questions. He holds her left hand too tightly before he finally lets her go and walks out, and she instantly regrets choosing that particular way to taunt Tom.

She shouldn't have given him such false hope. She knows it will only hurt him more in the end. Maybe she doesn't have to hurt him at all, she thinks as she remembers the grin on his face as they'd said their goodbyes. She has never seen someone so happy in her life, and it makes her wish happiness was contagious. His is for her, usually - but not when she is worried about being the cause of it's end.

Tom is sitting in her chair behind her desk when she arrives, prompting an eye roll from her. She walks up beside him, glaring down at him with her arms crossed in front of her as she says haughtily, "Excuse me."

"There's another chair over there. Or you can sit in my lap again, if you prefer."

"Do you remember when you said this would be my business?"

"I lied. I am sure you recognized that, since you do it so often."

"I wasn't lying. You are always encouraging your other followers to propagate more purebloods into the world. Why should we be any different?"

He stands quickly, a hand wrapping itself around her neck to keep her in place as he pushes her back against the bookshelves behind her desk. He growls, "You know why, Cassandra."

She smirks and bats her eyelashes up at him, "Careful, Tom. You might hurt the baby."

"If there was one, you know I would make you get rid of it, don't you? I won't have you doting over some brat when you should be busy with our plans."

"Don't worry," she responds with a smirk. "I'll hire a nanny."

His hand tightens. Not enough to hurt, but enough to serve as a warning. He moves closer as he hisses, "Don't make me fuck my baby into you instead, Cass."

"Please don't. I wouldn't want a half - "

He cuts her off by kissing her, his lips still hovering over hers as he declares, "It would be a descendent of Salazar Slytherin and an honor for you. Now stop acting like a child yourself, Cassandra. It was your fault for bringing him, you know."

"I think we will name - "

"That's it," Tom snarls, his magic pressing her back against the shelf and making her feel as if she is stuck against it. He kisses her while gripping her thighs with his hands and pulling them around his hips. "I was doing you a favor, Cassandra."

He plunges into her, a hand coming up to pull her hair so that she has to look him in the eyes while he takes her. He hisses, "You want us to be a secret, don't you? This to be a secret?"

"Do you think," Tom starts, interrupting his own sentence to drive into her again.

"He will think we are doing this," Tom says, pulling free again.

"If I let him do that in front of me?" Tom finishes, bottomming out inside her. In response to her silence, he snaps his hips, pushing hers back against the shelf again and making the fullness of his shallow strokes feel painful. "Thank me for my kindness, Cass."

"Do you really think you can placate me with that lie?" she asks with a laugh despite the sharp pangs running through her. "You did it because you wanted to show him you can control me. You wanted to imply that if you did order me to fuck you, I would, just as I did him."

"I don't need to imply I could order you to fuck me, because you don't need to be ordered to do so. Everybody who looks at us together can see that, see how much you want to be with me instead."

"I do not want you," she snarls. "Especially not after that."

"Well I certainly don't see you resisting this, Cassandra."

"Merlin, you are thick. How many months is it going to take you to realize my wanting to fuck you is not the same as my wanting you?"

He drives into her harder, drawing a cry from her, before growling, "Tell me something, my little harpy. How much better do I feel than he does?"

"Fuck, Tom… This is not a dick measuring contest."

"You know that's not what matters anyway. This is better because of me, Cassandra. Because of who I am, no matter how much you pretend to hate me right now. Because I know who you really are and we are the same Cassandra. Our souls are the same."
"You know what they say, Tom. Opposites attract," she quips.

He cuts off her air, increasing the speed of his trusts and placing a hand around her neck just tight enough that the only oxygen she can access she has to use for the noises he is driving from her instead of for her smart little quips.

"And yet you cannot hide the pleasure you get from me. Do you want to come for me, my little harpy?" He teases. He loosens the hold on her neck slightly to let her answer. She just nods. He leans forward to kiss her, stilling inside of her, hissing, "You know that is not how this works. Say it."

"No."

"Say it or I will just use you for my own pleasure and leave you wanting."

"I don't want -"

"Don't tempt me to punish you for lying," he warns. His other hand descends to her clit, teasing it with a finger while he rocks slowly inside of her. She gasps and he pulls her hair back, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I will stop right now, Cassandra."

"Please, Tom."

"Do you want me, my little harpy?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I want you."

"Again."

"I want you, Tom."

"Look at me. Remember that."

He draws it from her as he speeds up and deposits himself within her, relishing in the way she pulses around him as he does. She tries to push free but he just wraps his arms around her back and carries her over to the couch he had added on the other side of the room, sitting down with her straddling him. One arm stays wrapped around her so she cannot escape even now that she is free of his spell. The fingers of his other hand stroke along her face and hair as he looks at her as if he expects everything to be fixed between them now. She does not look away, wanting to see how he reacts. To see if what she says gets any reaction from him.

"I am not just pretending to hate you right now, Tom. What you just did was despicable. I am not a whore for you to command to please your officers when you desire it, and not to touch them when you don't."

"And I am not a pet for you to indulge with your attention when you desire my affection and then cast off and command not to ask for any in return when you don't."

"Tom Riddle trying to play the victim, really?"

"If it's not true then stay with me tonight."

"I can't."

"Point made," he says with a bitter smile. "You brought him here, on what is supposed to be our evening together. Why? Because you wanted to show me you want to be with him instead, Cassandra? All I did was order you to do exactly that."

"In front of - "

"I had him leave when you two started doing more than kissing. Funny, I could have sworn Cain noticed. He didn't seem to feel the need to speak up as he fucked you for me."

She bites her lip and turns her head away from him. The disappointment is evident in her face, and Tom resents even that. It had been anger and hatred when she thought he'd done something she didn't like. When it came to Cain, it's just surprise and disappointment.

He leans forward to whisper in her ear, so sweet and tempting she would swear it was the voice of an angel if she didn't know the devil was the one hovering over her, "Stay."

"I can't," she answers evenly.

He kisses her deeply, pulling away only to run his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes on it as he says, "I hate you too, little harpy."

He hates her for being able to do this to him without even thinking about it, to raise his wrath and his want in ways that he cannot control even when he tries. He hates her for knowing that she will leave without a second thought if he acts out in response to her refusal. He hates her for how much he hates Cain and how little he can do about it. All he can do is wait until he asks, and given her words he is now not so sure of the answer. Not sure enough to keep pushing him to do it, anyway.

"Get in line," she mumbles before pulling his arms away so she can stand up. She fixes her dress and walks over to her desk to look for the receipts from the previous night. "Now, do we actually have something to discuss?"

Tom stands to fix his suit and walks over to the bar cart to fix them drinks, "Yes, actually. I read that you used to do a significant amount of charity work. War relief and things like that."

"Considering it was the only way my dear husband would let me out of his sight, yes."

Still bitter, Tom thinks. Good. There's no way she's racing into another marriage considering how poorly the last one went.

"You recall the separations after the war? They've never been reversed. Parents still longing for their children after all these years, doesn't it just break your heart?"

"I generally don't concern myself with the troubles of Grindelwald's former acolytes, nor those of their children."

"You did when that child was named Rosier, didn't you?"

"I was simply repaying their kindness. If I understand correctly, you'd like me to start campaigning for everyone's reunification now?"

"It's a popular issue among the purebloods. And sympathetic even to those who are not."

"Ah, I see. It's time to start reforming my reputation publicly. From local murderess to patron saint of the purebloods."

"Yes, and there are certain advantages to starting with this issue."

"Like the personal connections? Cain standing by my side, talking about how it affected his family. Me, crying on the front pages with my former classmates as they hug their younger siblings again. Perhaps mentioning how I always wanted children and never got the chance to have them before becoming a widow, so now that my own family is gone I want to help others. So sympathetic, as you say."

"You know it is, Cassandra. You know it's exactly what you need. An issue that will make it impossible for people to hate you. Something people can't bring themselves to hate. Children. Besides, they're the future, or so I've heard."

"Fine. I'll put together a gala to raise money. Some photo ops to raise public support. Meetings with politicians to get a resolution started. And the bribes, of course, to make sure it gets to a vote."

"Splendid. Speaking of children, I'd like you to start your own charity. Us actually, as I'd like to be the director of it. You still have three country houses, yes?"

"Four, actually, though I don't have any plans to step foot into any of them again."

"Well, you may want to revise those plans, because I have plans to put them to use. As primary schools and boarding for magical children. Those who do not have parents, or whose parents don't take too kindly to their talents. They can be sent there to be with people of their own kind and be introduced to wizarding society. Then once they go off to Hogwarts they can come back for the summers."

The thing is, she truthfully does not like children at all. They are loud and messy and annoying. And those houses are the places some of the worst events of her life happened in, places and memories she'd locked up and sworn to herself she would not revisit. But she recognizes this is a touchy subject for Tom. That what he is asking her to make - to help him make, really - is exactly what he wishes he'd had as a child.

So she just nods and says, "I'll put aside funds for the remodeling and contact the caretakers to open them up next weekend for a viewing. Sunday, I assume?"

The door to the townhouse creaks as it swings closed behind her. Cassandra flinches, standing still to make sure there's silence in the rest of the house. A pop and flash of something in the corner of her eye makes her jump and raise her wand again. Then she realizes it is only one of the house elves asking if she needs anything and gestures for it to be quiet and leave. Her steps up the stairs are measured. Cain is usually sleeping when she comes back this late. The last thing she needs is him to wake up and start the whole conversation about what she'd said over again.

She is exhausted and can think of nothing she would appreciate more than her own mattress, perfectly firm the way she likes it, with dozens of pillows for her to arrange to her comfort and the whole wide expanse of it to herself. But that is not an option tonight - she'd already told him she'd come back - so her space on Cain's too soft bed will have to do.

The two of them have grown rather… attached over the last month. Some would say clingy. Keeping up with the constant demands on her attention and appeasing them both often takes making compromises. It seems she spends all her hours, waking and frequently not, with at least one of them. When she is not in their company, they both are much too curious about where she is, what they think is subtly querying her about every single second of the day unaccounted for. As if the sheer amount of sex wasn't exhausting enough, frankly.

Cain, at least, actually still seems to treat whether she wants to as a question - more than she can say for Tom, who always imposes his own answer and then asks the question. Still, Cain knows she cannot deny him when he looks sweet or sad, so in practicality she almost never refuses. There is some respite in the fact that Cain only initiates things when they are alone together and she is staying over - or, rather, as he prefers to term it, when she is at home. She knows it is not so much that he disregards that she already has a home. It is just that he assumes that if he keeps saying it she will eventually come to think of this place as her home instead. But it isn't hers, not like the manor is hers. It is his. His family's, in fact. And she is not and has already refused to become a Rosier, no matter how many different ways he hints at the question almost weekly.

Tom, on the other hand, is utterly insatiable. He will pretty much try to fuck her the second he sees her, no matter where they are. In public, of course, his impulses can be resisted and tamed. In private, they run absolutely wild. Often, he will keep playing with her to various degrees for hours, waiting until she is a quaking, crying mess underneath him willing to say whatever he demands in exchange for him finally letting her have her release. Her own personal form of torture, so sublime that sometimes she almost wishes it would never end.

And both are utterly exhausting, as tonight had been a perfect example of. Sharing her attention turns Cain bitter, and he is frequently liable to sulking about it afterwards. Sharing turns Tom even angrier, and he is frequently liable to lash out at her whenever he feels the tables need to be evened again, whenever he feels Cain has more of her than he does. Which is often, given the arrangement.

It is a delicate balancing act, giving Tom enough of what he needs that he isn't going to hurt anybody while cutting off his growing demands for more. A balancing act she can admit she has been failing to really keep since that first day. There are just too many things Tom knows to do to make her lose control, and everyday it feels like she is slipping further and further into him. She does not want to sink completely.

A/N: Hey readers, was this plot too weird? TBH that's why this chapter took so long (along with me generally feeling blah), I was oscillating between this is brilliant and no way anybody is going to believe they'd do this. But now that it's posted you can just tell me if it's too crazy. Also, is anyone interested in reading a Hogwarts AU of this? Like what would have happened if Cass had transferred there instead of getting married?

As always, any reviews or messages are greatly appreciated and thanks for reading :)