Sociopath by StéLouse

The sun is nearly rising when he arrives, the first tinges of light appearing in the foggy sky outside, the windows flecked with spring dew. He is holding his side and leaning over, cursing under his breath when she pulls the door to Cain's townhouse open. She had already been half-awake, as usual, anyway when the house elf had come up to announce a visitor, so she'd insisted on being the one to get out of bed since Cain had work in a few short hours.

"You cannot just…" she starts, about to admonish him for showing up at such an ungodly hour. She sees the blood on his fingers and stops, stepping aside so he can come in. "What the fuck did you do?"

"We can discuss that later, Cassandra," he says, grimacing from the burning in his lungs that results from forcing the sound out of his mouth. She reaches for him, letting him place his other hand against her arm and use her as a crutch as she leads him toward the sitting room. Cain's probably not going to be happy about his couch being stained with blood, but its probably better than letting Tom bleed out at his front door.

"Well if this doesn't kill you, I'm going to myself for being stupid enough to get yourself into whatever situation caused this, apparently alone," she admonishes as she sets him down on the couch. She unbuttons his shirt and carefully starts to move it off of him.

"If you'd stayed I wouldn't have been alone," he bites back before wincing as she pulls his hand off the gash at his side. At the fountain of blood that starts to spill out, she rips a piece of her nightgown off and presses it over the wound. She goes for her wand, but he explains, "Tried to heal it. It won't work."

She stares at the cut, thinking for a second before deciding on the best course of action, "Looks like we are doing things the muggle way for now then. At least until we have time to research something more effective."

She summons over a bottle of firewhisky from the cart and calls for one of the house elves, demanding a sewing kit from them. She pours the firewhisky over another piece of her nightgown before holding the bottle up to him.

"Here, drink," she orders. "Don't look at me like that, I don't have time to brew a pain reliving potion right now so drink."

He listens, taking a long swig. Just when he has swallowed, she shoves the soaked cloth against the gash, sending a burning sensation through him. He curses and mutters, "I think you're going to kill me before this does."

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to go back to bed and let it kill you," she responds, eyes still focused on his injury as she holds her wand in one hand, a lumos spell lighting up the tip to give her a better look at the cut. She takes his other hand in hers before saying, "Hold this. Please try not to break it."

He grips it, pointing it just like she had. She gets to work threading the needle through his skin. His entire vision flashes red with the pain. He grips the couch cushions and loses track of time until he feels her pull away partially and then come back to wrap something around his abdomen tightly. A roll of gauze she must have ordered the house elf to bring. She stands when she is done, but he reaches out to hold her hand and pull her down onto his lap.

She shrugs away from his hand as he tries to raise it up to hold her face and pull her in for a kiss, "We should floo back to mine. I have potions on hand which might help."

"In a few minutes," he responds, leaning his head back against the cushions and letting his eyes slip closed. Given his condition, he cannot pull her against him, but feeling her here is enough. He grips her hips harder to reassure himself that she is real and not just some hallucination from the pain.
"You aren't supposed to fall asleep after an injury, you know."

"I am not falling asleep. Just trying to calm down."

"Tom, we can't do this here."

"Why? It's not any closer than he's seen us be in public."

"You know why."

"I don't."

"It's different."

"I'm not going to let you go."

"You promised."

"Blame me if he asks but stop arguing."

"Tom, I am not - "

He raises his head to meet her eyes, "For Merlin's sake, please, Cassandra."

She falls silent at the sincerity in them. Finally relaxes into his hold and lets him move his hands up to her face. He is about to pull her in when there is a cough from the doorway. She drops away again to turn toward it, but knows that standing up now would just make the whole situation look even more suspicious.

Cain's expression remains carefully neutral as he takes in their positioning as well as the blood on the couch, "Need any help, My Lord?"

She is the one to answer, "Do you have any potions on hand?"

"Pepperup and probably a few pain relievers."

"A potions kit?"

"Yes, in my study. I can set it up in a guest room if you'd like."

She finally stands before answering, "I can get it. Can you help move him instead?"

Cain simply steps forward in response. She rushes past him and up the stairs.

Tom just shrugs him off as he stands too, "Sod off. I don't need your help."

The fact that he remains leaning against the arm of the couch does not instill confidence in his statement. Cain ignores him and steps up to his side, "Don't be stubborn just because I interrupted you trying to fuck my girlfriend again. My arrival should have hardly come as a surprise given that we are in my home."

Tom grimaces as he tries to step forward and finally gives in, placing his arm around Cain's shoulder so he can lean on him for support as they head out of the room and up the stairs.

"Yes, well I am not exactly here by choice."

"As if you didn't do this to yourself just to get her attention."

"Not everything is about fucking your girlfriend."

"Even if you didn't do it on purpose, coming here was."

"How was I to know she would be the one to answer the door?"

"As if you don't know where she is at all times."

"You give me too much credit, Cain."

"She gives you too little, Tom."

They both know he is right, and Tom knows she will stay now. When he asks. Even when he doesn't. He had seen the fear in her eyes when she'd open the door, the flash of pain that had passed through them at the thought of losing him. She has gotten used to having him in her life, and she does not like it when things she has gotten used to change.

And she does stay, all day in that guest room with him, brewing potions for him to take, changing out the stitches and dressing and cleaning out the wound on a regular basis, researching through books pulled from Cain's library until she finally finds a spell that works, that seals the cut and stops the bleeding once and for all. Tom is disappointed when it works. He would have taken the pain for another few days to have her to himself for that time. Now he has no more excuse to stay.

Tom leaves in the afternoon, fixed up like new and visibly bitter about it as he bids Cain goodbye. She had gone up to nap in their bed as soon as she had been done.

Cain grimaces as he slides in next to her and notices she still smells like him. She surprises him by opening her eyes and noticing the expression on his face.

She dips her head against his chest, not wanting to look up at him as she confronts the elephant in the room. Her voice is muffled by the fabric of her shirt as she starts, "When you walked in - "

Cain wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, "You don't need to explain. I understand. It's Tom fucking Riddle. It's part of the game. I don't care. As long as it's just that, Cass. Is it?"

"Of course," she says, too eager to respond. Reassuring him. Reassuring herself.

After all, it's Tom Riddle, what else can it be? At some point, he will get bored. At some point, this will no longer be useful to him. At some point, he will feel like he has conquered her and move on to his next project. He does not feel. He does not care. She is nothing more than a pretty, useful thing to him and she knows it. He is nothing more than a good fuck and an avenue to her ambitions to her. Cain… Cain is everything to her. Everything she has left. Everything she has ever wanted.

"I love you," she adds, looking up at him.

Cain sees the longing in her eyes and thinks, Does she? Or does she just want to? If she really loved him, she wouldn't do this to him, would she?

He shakes his head. She isn't doing anything. It's all Tom. He can't let Tom convince him. Can't let Tom get into his head. She does. She loves him.

He needs to ask her as soon as possible. Fuck plans. Fuck hesitation. Fuck Tom. She will say yes when it comes to it. He knows she will.

"I love you too, Cass," he says, placing a kiss against her forehead. "Now get some rest. I'll have the elves prepare dinner."

She sleeps until nine before rolling over and realizing the time. He hadn't woken her, and now she is ravenous - though grateful for the rest. She stumbles up and into the bathroom, still half groggy. She twists the shower knob to turn on the hot water before walking into the closet to the small section of her clothes on the back wall. She finds a long-sleeve red shirt, a black skirt that falls just below the knees, and a floor length grey robe. No stockings, but this should do to keep her warm enough.

She could live here if she wanted to. It is comfortable enough. More comfortable, if she will admit it to herself, than her raggedy little manor. There are dozens of rooms. She could have a study and a library and a potions room and a dueling room and a reading room - and someone to do all of those things with. Someone besides Tom when he comes over on his weekly visits.

She pushes the thought away as she steps into the shower, as her eyes glaze over the gold-leafed tiles and along the ornately carved crown molding. No, she does not belong in a place like this. She is more comfortable among her ruins. At least they are hers.

By the time she wanders down to the dinning room, looking for him, her stomach is grumbling but she's started to ignore it. She'd been hungry before, hungry for years. The signals of her body hardly even make a dent in her conscience now.

Instead of an elaborately set table, there is a picnic basket waiting for her. She laughs when she catches his eye as he turns around after placing a bottle of wine in it and closing it, "What's this?"

"A surprise," he says with a smile, putting his hands on her hips and turning her around to face away from him. She feels a slip of fabric against her skin before black silk covers her eyes and he whispers in her ear, "And I would like to keep it that way until I'm ready, so no peaking."

She teases, "You could have at least warned me we are going outside so I could have dressed in something more appropriate."

"Maybe we aren't. Anyway, isn't that what warming charms are for?"

He slips his hand into hers, holding it firmly as he pulls her along. She maintains a sense of direction long enough to figure out they are going outside, then feels the wind on her skin only briefly before they start swirling. She reaches for him, a hand on his shoulder to steady her as they land after the apparition.

There is a different smell in the air now, familiar but she cannot quite place it. It is warmer here, just a touch, but the lack of wind helps. The ground underneath her feet is soft. She tries to piece together where they are as he leads her along again but the list of possible guesses is too long for her to narrow down.

Finally, after what feels like minutes of walking, he speaks up, "Your table, my lady."

She reaches out but finds no solid surface. She's confused for a second before he guides her to her knees and she feels the blanket over the grass underneath her.

"Do I get to see where we are now?" she asks impatiently.

"Not yet," he mutters before pressing a kiss to her lips. "You trust me, right, Cass?"

"More than anyone," she mumbles back.

He pulls away and a few seconds pass before she feels something else press against her lips. She opens it and takes a bite. A strawberry. She cannot help the giggle that escapes her mouth, and then the little jump when she feels his hand skim her side and he kisses her again. "Why, Cain Rosier, I never knew you were so mischievous," she whispers as he pulls away again.

"If you think this is mischievous, then you are really going to be surprised later."

"Come on, the suspense is killing me," she says. Another strawberry presses against her lips and she opens again, this time lapping her tongue out to lick his fingers too. A small groan slips out of his mouth.

"Do that again and I'm not sure we'll even get to dinner," he warns in a joking tone as he pulls away. He changes his position, sitting behind her with his legs on either side of hers. She unfolds her legs and leans back against him. He must be leaning against something, because he doesn't sway back even an inch as she does. He keeps alternating between kissing her and feeding her bits of food. Cheese. Champagne. Strawberries. Chocolate. It's barely a meal, but that is not what she is focused on right now. No, it's his fingers wandering along her skin, surprising her, that draw her attention. It's the fact that she can feel him pressed against her back that keeps her mind occupied.

Finally, his hand drifts between her legs, the sudden sensation so overwhelming that she tries to snap them shut. His other hand lands on her thigh, keeping them pulled apart with his strong arms as he whispers to her, "Trust me, Cass."

His lips skim against her neck and she loses herself to the feeling of his mouth and his fingers stroking against her. His other hand relaxes and slips up her body, tugging her shirt loose from her skirt before slipping underneath the fabric. She throws her head back against his shoulder and her mouth opens in a silent cry when his fingers just barely graze over her, teasing. She reaches behind her and runs her fingers through his hair as she braces herself against him. Her other hand comes up to the arm with the hand between her legs, gripping his bicep.

He presses into her in response and she cries out, "Cain."

"As much as I love your name coming out of my lips, you have to be quiet for me today, Cass. Can you do that?"

She shakes her head no. The fact that she cannot see what he is doing is only making everything more intense, and she doesn't think she can control her reactions.

She can feel his smirk when he presses his lips against her neck again. His hand slides out from her shirt and comes up to cover her mouth. She moans as he pushes into her again, his fingers stifling the sound.

"How quickly do you think I can make you come for me, princess? Or should I go nice and slow, keep you waiting?" he whispers in her ear. Cruel since he knows she cannot answer.

She shakes her head no again. His fingers press into her mouth and she eagerly sucks them, imagining they are something else.

"I am going to fuck you so good later," he whispers, his breath skimming across her ear and making her whole body erupt in goosebumps. "You want that, don't you, Cass? You want to be with me? Only me?"

He is so familiar. Somehow this place is so familiar. She feels safe in his arms, pushed just far enough that there is some excitement but not far enough that she's uncomfortable. Not far enough that anything hurts. Not far enough that she thinks it might. She feels like if this was it, if he was it for the rest of her life, maybe she could convince herself that she was finally happy. Merlin knows he has enough happiness to spare.

She nods frantically, almost there, wanting to see him and taste him and hold him. She is glad she can't speak because then she might have to specify what she is nodding to. Because it is not only him and Tom will somehow find out and make her regret it if she promises him that. If she lets him believe she is his.

Waves of pleasure roll over her and she shakes and yelps, the sound muffled. She melts back into him as he pulls his hands away, resting them against her sides instead, holding her just softly enough to remind her he is still there.

She sighs and whispers, "I love you, Cain."

It sounds real this time. He wants her so bad, but he is not crazy enough to do that here.

Tom would be. The thought flashes through his head before he can stop it and he almost gives in, but then he reminds himself he is a gentlemen. And Tom is not fucking her, no matter how much he wants him to believe he is. There is no way she would let him. There is no way she would do that to him.

Her lips pressing against his after she turns her head and kisses along his skin until she finds them bring him back to reality. He responds, "I love you too, Cass. With all my heart."

She feels his smile when he kisses her again. She laughs and asks, "Will you take this thing off now?"

He undoes the blindfold, slipping it to the side and discarding it on the ground. She blinks before acclimating to the scene. They are on his family's property, the rectangular lake off to the side, the hedge maze in the distance on the other side, the tree he is leaning against the same one they used to have so many conversations under the shade of as teenagers. She knows the house is only a hundred or so paces behind them and suddenly understands why minimal noise had been imperative.

"I always dreamed of having you here," he whispers to her when he sees the recognition flash across her face. A small chuckle erupts from his throat when a smile dances across her lips in response, "I dreamed of having you everywhere, really."

"I must admit I had a few thoughts as well," she says back, noticing the red tinge that blooms across his cheeks in response. "Don't act surprised, you were very handsome. I'm sure you knew all the girls swooned over you."

"I didn't know that included you," he answers truthfully. She had treated any physical contact like a gift to him with very hard limits. Had been so diligent at avoiding his advances. Always, until that night, and it still stung him to think of how that had ended.

"I loved you too, you know. I wanted to say it then, but…"

"But what, Cass? Wouldn't things have been easier if you had?" he rushes out at her silence, how badly he wishes things had been different showing in his tone.

She laughs. This time there is no real joy in it. She says sharply, "No."

He does not ask why, knowing already that it will only sour her mood. He knows she thinks his parents wouldn't have wanted them to be together. He knows they had, but she'd never been willing to believe that. He just mutters, "It doesn't matter. We have now."

She sees the hope in his eyes and wants to laugh again but knows it would crush him.

Do you think they would really let me have you now? The thought pops into her head and she shoves it away, reminding herself his mother had practically begged her to marry him. Still, she'd found a way to make sure that didn't happen in the end, hadn't she? She had probably never approved of it at all. Had probably pushed her away on purpose so she wouldn't sully their family name. Had probably been putting on an act for Cain's benefit in public and been relieved when she'd able to convince Cassandra not to go through with it in private. They never thought she was good enough then - why would they think she is good enough now?

She just reaches for the champagne glasses, taking a drink before smiling at him and daring, "I'll race you to the lake."

Hours - and a few drying spells later - he slips them through the doors from the garden to the ballroom and they try to walk as quietly as they can up the stairs and down the hall to his old bedroom. Another fantasy of his. Another way to remind her of what is between them, what they have that Tom never will. Growing up together. Years and years of first experiences. Years of trust, of fun, of happiness. Happiness he knows she would give anything to be able to get back. If this is just misplaced nostalgia as Tom claims it is, then he will use it.

They are stopped when his mother rounds the corner just as they reach the door. She smirks at the blush on Cain's face and explains, "The wards alerted me to your presence. Just wanted to make sure it was not a trick. Hello, Cassandra."

"Hello, Mrs. Rosier."

"Evangeline, please," she says with a sickly sweet smile. "So nice to see you again."

Cassandra copies her tone, all sugar even though her eyes are glaring daggers, "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure, Mrs. Rosier."

"Given the late hour, I will leave you two to get some rest. Breakfast will be at eight. I insist that you both join. I'll have the house elves do up something special."

"I apologize, Mrs. Rosier, but I have a meeting tomorrow."

"My, your work schedule must be even busier than the papers make it out to be if you have an 8 a.m. meeting on a Sunday, Cassandra."

"9 a.m., actually," she corrects. Cain has already done his own digging to figure out what this meeting is - after the casino, he wanted to make sure he knew everything, or as close to it as people would dare to say. Sunday mornings she helps Tom with improvements at the potions lab.

"Wonderful. Then I will make sure the food is ready promptly at 8 a.m. so you can have breakfast before you depart."

"How kind," she says with a forced smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Rosier."

The older woman forces a smile back and says, "Goodnight, Cassandra. Cain."

She turns and walks back down the hall. Cain opens the door to his room to let Cassandra step in and then says, "I'll be back in a minute, Cass."

He nearly sprints down the hallway to catch up with her before calling out, "Actually, mother, I need to speak to you."

"I am sure it can wait until the morning."

"It can't," he says. He adds quietly, "I need the family ring."

His mother waits until they have reached the staircases again - far enough away to be out of earshot - to respond, "We will talk about this in the morning, Cain."

"I want to ask - "

"We will talk about this in the morning. With your father."

"Is this your way of telling me you don't approve?"

"Cain, please, not right now."

"I'll still ask her anyway, even if you won't bless it."

"It's not that I don't - "

"So it's father that doesn't approve then?"

"Just wait until after breakfast, darling."

"You two have been bothering me about making heirs since I graduated from Hogwarts. Now that I finally found someone I want to - "

"It's her, Cain," she nearly shouts, exasperated, She sighs before returning to a whisper to explain, "Cassandra is not going to marry you."

"She loves me."

"She does."

"So why wouldn't she?"

"She will not marry into this family, Cain."

"You cannot tell me who to marry, mother."

"I am not. She told me she wouldn't," she says.

There is an awkward pause as Cain stares at her, the devastation showing in his eyes.

She tries to explain, "Certain things were said… You have to understand, things were different then. Your father didn't know how you felt about her. He just wanted to protect the family. We can fix it. We will fix it for you, son. We will talk some sense into her. In time. But you cannot ask now."

So she had been right. They had never stood a chance then. He asks through gritted teeth, "What things were said, mother?"

"It is not necessary to discuss them now."

"Clearly you already have discussed them with her. I think it is my right to know what that conversation entailed."

"You two were just 13. Your father wanted to make sure she wasn't being your friend for the wrong reasons."

"So father told her she wouldn't be allowed in the family. When we were 13 years old. Barely teenagers and he already felt the need to make her feel worthless and unwelcome."

"He didn't know, darling. He thought he was protecting you."

"He thought he was protecting his Gringotts account, more like it. And you, mother, what did you say to make her hate you?"

"I didn't - "

"I noticed the way she spoke to you. What did you say?"

"I just gave her some advice."

"About what? Who she is fit to marry instead of me?"

"About who she should be friends with. From what I hear, that advice fell on deaf ears."

"Wonderful. So a decade ago father screwed up my first chance with her and now you screwed up my second."

"Cain, I was just worried about you. About whether she would hurt you. And I was right to worry. She's been seen with Tom - "

"Yes, more and more often since you pushed her into his arms. It was that night that you gave her that advice, wasn't it? At the ball? I wondered why she changed her mind about dancing with him, but I would have never guessed my own mother was the cause."

"I will fix it, Cain. I will apologize to her and convince her to marry you."

He scoffs, "What are you going to fix? The fact that, because of you, a half-blood is hanging on to the woman who is meant to be mine? The fact that, because of father, she still thinks she isn't worthy of me? By the time you work up the humility to apologize for what you two have done to her over all these years and she overcomes her stubbornness enough to accept it, she will be married to that bastard instead of me."

"Just give me a few months, dear."

"Give me the ring, mother."

"No. Not yet."

"Fine. I'll buy a new one."

"Please, Cain, just wait a few months to ask. She won't say yes if you do it now, and we both know how you would react to that."

"She will! She will marry me. Not this family. Me. If I have to assure her we will never see the two of you again to get her to say yes, I will. I will do anything for her, mother."

"Go to sleep. You will see some sense in the morning. With a clear head, you will realize that I am right. Your father and I will fix this for you. Just wait."

"You don't understand what you are asking me to wait through," he says before turning away and stalking down the hall.

"If you insist, you can have it," she hisses after him, causing him to stop in his tracks. "But it's at Gringotts anyway, which is closed tomorrow. Please, Cain, take the day to think about it. I am not telling you not to ask. Just to let us arrange things more favorably before you do. If you still want it, I will go with you myself Monday morning."

He turns back and nods, "Monday."

He thinks as he walks back toward his room. He had wanted to ask tonight. By the lake. But he had forgotten that Tom had destroyed all the jewelry he'd bought for her. He had almost owled his sister for a ring, any ring, but after their last exchange he knew how she would have responded. Anyway, she doesn't deserve just any ring. She deserves that ring. His family ring. The one his father's mother had worn all her life. It is said to contain rubies and diamonds from the original Tudor Crown. Fit for a queen. Fit for her.

And now he is not sure again if she would take it even if he did have it.

He pushes down his frustration as he reaches the door to his room, pulling it open to find her curled up in the bed, her clothes already crumpled up on the floor nearby, her eyes fixed on a book that she had somehow managed to pull from somewhere.

Suddenly it comes to him. He doesn't have to trick her into having his heir. She had said she wanted it. He just has to neglect doing the usual charms. And make sure she is too busy to do them. Then keep fucking her until an "accident" happens. It doesn't matter if they are married or not. Surely Tom will not want her after that.

He shakes the idea off. No. That isn't him. He isn't going to do that to her.

Well, not on purpose. But maybe, if they do slip a few times and something happens, it won't be so bad. Maybe she will change her mind about his family when she has a new member of it inside of her. Maybe they can make their own family, without them. Maybe if he promises her that she will accept it.

Maybe if he promises her that she still won't and it will break his heart.

It is all too fucking much to think about and he is undressed and sprawled out on his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling while his mind continues to spiral down, down, down.

She finishes her page and turns to him, her eyebrow scrunching up at the curiously blank expression on his face, then further at the mental wall he has built up in his brain to keep her from his thoughts.

"Everything alright, Cain?" she asks, turning to her side.

"Just tired," he mutters, closing his eyes.

She smiles, hoping it will draw one for him, as she turns over and straddles his hips, sitting on top of him. She teases, "That's too bad because I thought you made me a promise."

He does not respond. She leans forward, tangling her hands into his and whispering softly, "Hey, Prince Charming, at least give me a goodnight kiss. Please."

He opens his eyes, staring up at her. He swallows before working up the courage to say, "I want us to try, Cass."

"What?"

"For a child. I want us to try. We can decide what happens afterward, whether you want to get… we can decide after, I don't care. I just want to have a part of you."

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Cain."

"Why not?"

She looks away before answering, "He wasn't too happy with the prospect. He is concerned that it would be a distraction and we have… we're planning something big, in a year or so. It's a very tight timetable and - "

"And he can find someone else if he needs to. I can't. I won't."

"You don't understand, Cain. It's not an option. He made that very clear."

He grits his teeth and tries not to sound as angry as he is, "I understand perfectly."

Her eyes narrow at him for a second before she controls her reaction. She forces a smile back onto her face and tries to reassure him, "After this year, we can - "

He cuts her off again, exasperated. Tired of her acting like they are equal partners when it is convenient for her and like she is just another follower when it is not. Tired of everything. His tone is even as he says, "You know, only one person is going to wear a crown in his kingdom, Cass."

"And how do you know it will be his kingdom in the end, Cain?"

She's not implying… He looks into her eyes. She is. Fuck, that's… fuck.

This is what Tom gets, he thinks, for falling for her. For exempting her. For lifting her above all of them. A killer at his side as dangerous as he is, blessed with Tom's mark and everything Tom does not have. Money. Fame. Pure blood. This is what Tom gets for hurting her. He sees how intently she is starting at him and realizes, no, this is what Tom gets for hurting him.

But no. There is absolutely no way that would work. No way he won't sneak into her mind or sense her intentions when the time comes to turn them into concrete actions. No way she will actually turn on him when they have finished their work together, not with the way they look at each other. Not with the way she had saved him today, had taken care of him so carefully, had done everything she could to reduce the pain he felt by even an ounce. She might think she can, but he knows she will not be able to when the time comes. Tom is not her husband. He has built her back up, not broken her. Tom is not her parents. He may have hurt her once, but he had stopped at that. Tom is someone she cares about. He is someone who cares about her, the thing she has been looking for her entire life and had only ever found in him before.

"Don't even think about it, Cass."

"I am just saying, anything could happen. Allegiances change. Winds shift. People die."

"He does not die, Cassandra."
"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, just… Drop it, please."

She smiles again. It reaches her eyes and he is almost fooled. She blinks and says, "I was just joking, of course. Our Lord will reign soon enough. And then we will be free to do whatever you want, Cain. To go anywhere you want."

Cain wants to roll his eyes and mumble, Right. Sure. Tom Riddle will most definitely stop stalking you once he's Lord Voldemort. He will most definitely not send me off to some foreign country or something and have you kneeling in front of his throne 24/7. Or maybe just sitting on his lap in it like she had been earlier, in his sitting room.

He is reminded of the last meeting, two weeks ago, when he'd pulled her off for a private conversation nearly as soon as they'd arrived and she'd come back wearing a triple strand of pearls tight around her neck, a large emerald shining at the center. Like a collar, Cain had thought, as he watched Tom lead her around the room with a hand on her lower back and a smirk that screamed out the message he was trying to send.

And she had looked happy. Was it real then, or was it like that smile she just gave him, so close to real even he hadn't been able to tell the difference? He hadn't been as close as he is now, hadn't had the chance to inspect her long enough and carefully enough to notice the feeling that something was not quite right.

He reminds himself it does not matter what she feels or does not feel for Tom. He cannot be distracted by that right now. He just has to get her to say yes to him. Then Tom will leave her alone and none of this will be a problem anymore. No more arguments, he decides. No more bringing him up when they are alone together. Just fucking her senseless and making her happy.

He smirks up at her and flips them over in one swift motion, pushing her under him and their lips together before he says, "Fine. Then let's practice instead."

She kisses him back and shakes her head, pushing on his shoulders. Worry flashes through him for a second - maybe bringing it up had been too premature, maybe making it clear that was what he wanted had ruined it between them forever - before she playful says, "You got to be in control outside. I get to be in control this time."

He follows her lead, letting her turn them over so she is on top again. She surprises him by pulling something from underneath her pillow. The blindfold he had used on her. He cocks an eyebrow but lifts his head to let her secure it.

"Trust me?" she whispers against his lips.

Well, considering she had just been plotting a coup, that's a bit of a loaded choice right now. He just nods and lifts his head to kiss her again. She pulls away, her lips traveling down his body, shocking him every time they make contact with his skin, seemingly weaving a random pattern across his chest. Finally, she pulls off his boxers carefully before crawling back up to him and lowering her mouth over his cock. He groans when her tongue travels along him. Within minutes, he is nearly as painfully ready to burst as he was outside.

When her lips start wandering along the rest of her skin again, he moans out, "Merlin, Cass, I only threatened to tease you."

Her real laugh chimes across the air, surprising him with how close she is, "Even princes have to ask for what they want."

He reaches out blindly, feeling for the sharp jut of her hip bone. He pulls forward until he feels her aligned with him then responds, "I don't ask, I take."

She kisses him before obliging him by guiding herself into him. He swears as she slides down. She picks up his other hand, pulling it to her hip as well before commanding, "Then take."

Without being able to see her, he has to concentrate on the sensations to be able to guide her. Has to focus and feel every inch of movement, and every one is so exquisite.

She leans her chest down against his again to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Cain. No charms tonight. No potions in the morning. One night, as many tries as you can manage. If it takes, it's meant to be, isn't it?"

A/N: I'm drunk and not gonna lie, I didn't edit this. Will probably go back and catch some typos later. Let me know if you see any that bother you. Or even better, if you want to beta read this story and help me nail down the final plot so I can kill my darlings and get back to regular updates.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter or the story in general :) Please give me some much needed human contact and leave a review or message if you can.