I'm Loosing My Soul

Pushing me to the edge of my decline

Ever since that sleek jaguar had crawled her way into the depths of his office with his collar so neatly wrapped in a black box, Aiden had known his freedom would be short lived. He had been preparing for what he had deemed an inevitability in more ways than one. He had tried to ensure the pack would have the ability to carry on after he disappeared, the Were-King making every effort to ensure they had established a family within each other....even as he so strove to keep himself at arms length. Surely, with the capsizing of the large steel ship, her retrieval of her cherished pet was imminent. How valiantly he struggled to keep any hint of emotion from finding his baritone voice, the panther leaning heavily upon that facade of indifference he had once mastered with such striking ease, though even that was so remarkably telling to his father. That inquiry of how long he had, however, mattered deeply to the man. Though he had known this day would come, just as he had known the depths of Risque's depravity, he had, against all odds, allowed himself to care for those souls that surrounded him far deeply then he anticipated even they might ever truly realize. It...hurt...to leave them, that was an emotion he hadn't anticipated, even as he looked up to the man he finally had allowed himself to call 'father' for answers.

That slight shake of Matteo's head prompted his brow to furrow ever so slightly, the genteel touch upon his arm so demanding the weight of those vibrant emerald irises. He rarely understood the intricacies of his mistress' often megalomaniac thoughts and yet the insistence that his return had hardly been her intention thoroughly baffled him. He could hardly imagine why she might choose then to see his home decimated, except for her own twisted pleasure and yet....so many times within his childhood, she had been content to subject the once naive and confused boy to her sick games purely to watch him suffer. Surely the sinking of the Ark was not for something so...simplistic? That 'why', however, hardly finished leaving Aiden's lips before he simply shook his head in defeat. The soft accented murmur of his father's voice drew his gaze in a subtle display of surprise - this was a question that Aiden had never anticipated an answer to, though he had long come to suspect that his father knew far more of his fated future then he often shared with Aiden himself.

Still, it was the very mention of the effect Risque's actions had upon him that caused the intensity of his gaze to flutter away towards the floor, the corners of his lips tilted downward in an all too visible frown as he contemplated those words. It was...undoubtedly true that the anticipation of her actions had a tendency to wear upon his often already weary soul though it was but a glimpse of the mental gymnastics the pair so frequently engaged within. Those nightmares she so frequently afflicted him with would surely be the next to follow in her parade of afflicted misery. The man momentarily pausing to consider the pattern of her actions in a way that he so rarely had before. If her goal was to shake the very ground he stood upon, surely she would find herself incapable of proding her 'masterpiece'. Risque, after all, was never one to allow his persecution if she could not relish in it, in some fashion. It was that insistence that he would be safe these halls that prompted a hint of skepticism from the Were. No where, he'd come to learn, was safe from her. Not truly. If he dared to hide from her within this estate, she would find a way to raze it to the ground. Somehow. He could hardly help that dark comment that left his lips, his gaze once again returning towards those flickering flames with a hint of exasperation.

Matteo's admittance that he could offer no promises was one Aiden was well aware of, the Were so often drifting between blatant skepticism of his father's foresight to blind faith. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was that Darcy had somehow brought a transformation within the vampiric woman. The Southerner, after all, was hardly new within Risque's life. Quite on the contrary, the man had stalked her side like a god damned shadow for the entirety of Aiden's life within the multiple iterations of the dance club. He had not, however, truly considered how much of a sway Darcy held over their shared mistress, particularly when she so seemed to delight within testing the cowboy. Still...if what Matteo said was true...if it was merely a matter of pressing the boundary of Darcy's tolerance and forcing Risque to choose between them...perhaps he could utilize this to his advantage, even if it might disgust him in the short term to do so. After all, he knew Darcy well enough to know the cowboy's buttons...perhaps he merely had to become as....intolerable to the vampire as possible within those day to day moments. An almost pensive look crossed his features as Aiden contemplated the lengths at which he was willing to go to test that theory.

The quiet clinking of ice against Matteo's glass drew the weight of Aiden's attention back towards the present, that drink was one the Were-King was more than willing to accept, his singular glass from before hardly enough to dull the stress that had so afflicted him. He sipped silently upon the alcohol within the tumbler as Matteo toyed with the flickering flames, it's hue shifting drastically from one color to the next beneath the fae's mischievous sway. Aiden had hardly expected that almost casual suggestion that Matteo might too decide to stay within Dorian's home. It was distinctly rare, however, with the entirety of their family being in one place for so very long. Still...even if Aiden struggled to admit it, he found a certain sort of...safety within the Frenchman's presence, one that prompted him to agree to the idea. What he didn't expect, as Matteo leaned back within his chair, was the quiet insistence that, no matter what, the Frenchman was well aware of just how much tonight had truly unsettled him. That promise that Matteo could always tell was one Aiden met with utter silence as he returned the glass of whiskey to the fae.

The fae finished the amber liquor within the glass, his fingers lightly tapping on it's rim to summon but more of the drink with the same effortless ease that seemed to personify the Frenchman. Inevitably, the drink was passed back towards Aiden, the Alpha sipping upon its contents just as Matteo requested...to know more of her? That almost questioning look upon his features rewarded him with little more than an eyeroll and an easy chuckle. That light shove caused his brows to rise before Matteo saw fit to provide him with an explanation. Mira. Of course. An almost weary glance crossed his features though this too earned him little more than a promised threat that he knew the fae was all too capable of following through with. "Don't you fucking dare." He insisted, the emerald of his irises narrowing before an audible sigh of defeat left his lips. "I don't know what you want to know that you don't already know." The Were-King insisted, certain by now that Matteo had been aware of the young woman's existence and his involvement within her for some time now. He had, admittedly, spoke strikingly little of the past with the girl, her hobbies and interest largely slipping beneath his radar if only for his focus on other matters. That was...besides one...okay, maybe two things. "She likes the stars and movies." He offered lamely, as if this somehow summarized the girl in her complex entirety.

The King of the Damned