Deal with the Devil

Chapter 33

Tom had her on his lap again. She abhorred it but had meekly climbed atop his legs when he'd patted his thigh. It wasn't strictly allowed, but it was also the only way to fit the seven of them in the train compartment. Her hair was loose, and Tom's fingers were idly playing with the strands, occasionally sliding over her throat or tugging with pressure just this side of pain. She was staring out the window and trying to ignore the young men as they chattered on about their next steps until she heard her name.

"My lord, why has Elena not been Marked?"

Her head snapped forward, staring into Dolohov's keen grey eyes. Tom's chest rumbled against her back as he chuckled. "Really, Antonin? One does not Mark one's pet. Besides, Elena has not even come close to earning such favor, have you, pet?" Her cheeks flushed, but she shook her head. Tom was practically purring with pleasure.

"My apologies, I did not mean to question you," the younger man said. "I was merely curious."

"You're fine, Antonin," he responded smoothly. "I can understand wondering why I would include someone not worthy of our brotherhood among us; that is precisely why she'll be wed to one of you. Even should she not prove her loyalty, she will be tied to us via another type of bond."

Lestrange's gaze wandered to her and Elena shifted uncomfortably.

"About that," Antonin continued. "I hope I will be considered for that task. I believe I would be well-suited."

"Oh?" said Tom.

"No offense to Lestrange, but there is a reason I don't have a reputation for violence despite my natural inclination," he said. "Rad can get carried away; I control my appetites."

Elena gaped at him. He was putting in a request to claim her like a— a— Like a pet whose owner intends to pass it to a friend. It was an unnervingly apt comparison. As if sensing her thought, Tom slid his right hand over her knee, the pads of his fingers pressing into her inner thigh. "Thank you, Antonin. I will consider your request. Rosier, do you have anything to say on the subject?"

The rising seventh year blinked rather owlishly. "Er, no, my lord."

"Well, there is plenty of time to decide which of you is best suited. I haven't even told Corvus about the plan yet." At that, Elena stiffened. His hand massaged her thigh as though to comfort her as he said, "Are you alright, doll?"

"Of course," she murmured, turning back to the window.

Tom pulled her hair over her shoulder, trailing his lips over her neck. He sureky wouldn't do more in front of his Death Eaters, but Elena had to force herself to remain calm. Once the train arrived, she would be free. Tom already knew she planned to visit her father and expected her to owl him once she had offers to negotiate law apprenticeships. She would not. By the time he realized she wouldn't be doing that, Elena planned to have a job and her own place somewhere he didn't know about. She'd also decided to move her father to a wizarding medical facility. The fees were high, but she would figure it out.

If there was a God, perhaps gods, out there, perhaps this would be the last time Elena would have to play the doll.

She could hope.