The very violence at which Harley's figure so jerked back against that silver plated wall drew even the eyes of the absent minded Alpha as his emerald irises slid towards her flailing form. He watched with only vague interest as her lips peeled into a snarl - fruitless though her efforts would be. Those words all but fell on deaf ears, that fiery wrath doing little to save her. How he had so cautioned her to be good, if only to save her from just how truly deep those depths of hell in Syn could go. A soft exhale left Tetradore's lips as his cheek rested upon his palm in a nearly despondent fashion. His attention drifted from the pair of women, paying them little heed as his mistress' hand clenched upon the slender larynx of Harlequin. The subtle flinch of his figure was, perhaps, the only glimpse of pity from the unmoving man. After all, he knew well that awful moment of suffocation when air was stolen from his lungs and that panic to live overrode all else. He was hardly in the position to assist her, however, such an endeavor would be doomed far before he even moved from the embrace of the leather sofa. No, this would be yet another slight the brazen girl would have against him, how furious Isolt would be with him and yet - how little they both understood of his world.

He was wholly inattentive as Risque plunged her sharpened canines into Harley's throat, the man instead merely finding a perfect state of simply not caring. The silence that beset that office, however, was almost pregnant with an apprehension of what was sure to come. Risque was never one to simply let the wounded lie - oh no, she so often struck at the very core, pillaging everything from ever individual who so had the displeasure of stepping into her office. It was only the sudden tidal wave of power that collided into him that drew Tetradore's attention back to his mistress, his emerald irises so silently falling upon the slender figure of Risque. That inquiry upon his lips hardly seemed to dissuade the vampire, however, as she so issued that command a second time. For a moment, his features darkened as his emerald eyes simply surveyed that scene before him, almost contemplating the consequences of his insolence. In the end, the man concluded that Harley was simply not worth it, not with that threat to his own body still lingering so poignantly upon his own thoughts. Tetradore slowly rose to his feet, his hand grasping the hilt of that sharpened blade. The pointed silver metal glinted ominously in the very light overhead and yet, Tetradore was nothing if not well practiced within the art of so slicing flesh. How very well she had taught him - her own little torturer at her every beck and call.

He positioned himself with care upon Harley's side, purposefully gifting Risque that very view he knew well she would desire. That blade so effortlessly plunged into her skin, breaching only the surface layer that he so intended to pilfer from her very flesh. Those confused curses upon Harley's lips hardly caused the man to look up at her, his whole attention focused upon that work as that blood began to flow freely down her flesh, turning that tattoo an astonishing shade of red. The Alpha moved with such intent, maneuvering around that very mess he made as he cut that outline of the tattoo, only to peel her very flesh from her body. His hands were all but covered in crimson, those slurred insults had somehow fallen into mere background noise to the man as he turned to offer that piece of flesh towards Risque - the grotesque trophy that it surely was for her. He watched as she shifted from her desk only to offer him a small wooden box, the intent altogether clear. Tetradore said nothing as he placed that piece of skin within the box, the man merely flicking his hand at his side in some effort to rid the blood from his fingertips. His shoulders lifted in a small shrug as at Risque's inquiry, the man simply watched as she examined the lines he'd carved before that box was abruptly snapped shut in clear satisfaction.

That frown upon his features only increased, however, at the sound of Risque's uncharacteristically sing-song tune. The woman, it would seem was in a good mood - rare as it was. He hardly fought her, however, as she reached for that blade, the Alpha giving it up with ease as he simply eyed the fashion in which she lifted it to her lips. Her tongue ran easily along the blade, the very flavor clearly delighting his mistress and yet, any sensualness he might have taken from that succulent gesture was all but obliterated by the simple fact of who she was and what he had just done to earn her that taste of blood. He was hardly prepared for that wave of power that so assaulted him, that command burying itself in his mind despite his lack of desire to turn her. His emerald eyes briefly shifted towards the now silent girl, at least, until Risque informed him that she expected to see him again this week - with the clear intention to experiment. That...did not sound promising in the slightest. His eyebrows furrowed and yet, it was but one singular word that left his lips - "Fine." He hardly fought her, at least, not yet, simply allowing Risque to sweep from that room to attend the next matter that required her callous hand. For a long moment, Tetradore simply stood there, watching Harlequin as he tested any such rebellion he might hold against her command. How well she knew him, those ticking minutes only resulting in an ever-increasing pressure within his head. He hated those headaches - the ones that came when she left him with some command he so tried to fight again.

At the very least, he supposed, this would allow her to live, though that curse he was destined to beset upon her was hardly any further of a blessing. How he wished things could be different for her...and how he hated knowing he was delivering her into that life that had nearly torn him asunder time and time again. A soft breath left his lips as Tetradore peeled that shirt from his figure, his bloody hands leaving stains upon his clothing as those pants too were momentarily discarded. That shift came all too easily, the Hispanic man so quickly replaced by the sleek figure of the rather large jaguar. For a moment, he simply sat upon his haunches in front of her still figure, as if attempting to decide where to bite her. It was, in the end, the most inconspicuous place that he could think of that caused him to move to his feet. After all, she was loosing far too much blood for the Panther to simply sit there all night choosing. Risque needed her alive, and even if it might have been a mercy to kill her, Tetradore too desired her to live. His jaws parted, that acidic saliva coating just the tip of those sharpened canines as he approached her, his head was placed between her legs as his large jaws enclosed upon her inner thigh, his acid so tearing through jeans to that flesh that he so needed to infect. He heard that sound that left her lips as his teeth so ravaged her flesh, his saliva so effortlessly seeping into her very bloodstream. It was only once he was assured his job was done, and that pain within his head had subsided, that Tetradore returned to that mortal flesh, all but hating the taste of Harley's blood within his mouth. He pulled those clothes back over his own form before the man pulled Harley from that wall and those bindings. "Let's get you somewhere safe, hm?" He commented softly, glancing down at that woman that he cradled within his arms before those shadows so rushed to embrace them both - whisking her petite frame back to the sanctuary of the Ark and, her new pack.