Tetradore's emerald eyes surveyed the asphalt ahead of him, illuminated by the starkly bright beams of the Lykan. His hand gripped the steering wheel, the other settled loosely in his lap as he leaned back in the leather bucket seat. He turned the wheel right at the singular command of that saccharine sweet voice from the woman beside of him. Their seats were separated only by the slender console between them - that space alone was one Risque seemed more than eager to decimate as she leaned heavily against the center console, her pointed nails ever so lightly traced patterns along his upper thigh, falling down uncomfortably, from time to time, to his inner leg. Despite Tetradore's decided discomfort at her hand's proximity to those far more intimate areas, that touch was one he was more than capable of ignoring, particularly without the sting of silver to singe his flesh. He had become accustomed, all over again, to the woman's often insistent nature to all but bother him in whatever way she might deem enjoyable. It was as if she felt the need to constantly remind him that he was her's all over again. In time, she would grow bored of this toying, he merely had to wait it out till he was left with hours or even days without crossing the woman's mind. For now, however, he merely regarded the warehouse district with a cold sort of detachment. He was aware, naturally, of every turn they took and the proximity it might, or not, bring them to the hulking cargo ship at the very end of the dock - floating in all its brilliance under the dim street lights. Tonight, thankfully, hardly seemed the evening in which Risque would take his own pack. No - there was something else lingering upon her mind.

Tetradore could tell that she was irritated, the press of her lips and occasional digging in his flesh told him of such, even if he said nothing of it. For the present moment, her displeasure was directed elsewhere, the Were-King altogether content to simply leave it as such as he retreated to that silence, the thrum of her music on the speakers the only sound between them and the directions on her lips. At first, Tetradore was hardly aware of their destination, those turns through the vastness of the warehouses were near indistinguishable before Risque near abruptly told him to stop. His eyebrows furrowed as his foot stepped on the break, causing the vehicle to slow as they paused before a particular warehouse. Tetradore reached for the gear shift as he threw the car into park. For several moments it idled there as the man merely observed the outline of the warehouse. He knew this building - even though it had been ages since he had last been to see Vhalla. He remembered with stark clarity that last day the pair had spent together. It had been just after Samantha had left when her roommate had moved out of his flat - before Risque had returned to his life. Vhalla had been interested in pursuing more with him, though Tetradore himself had denied her with the knowledge of her relationship with Ivan. His woman was not something he was capable of sharing with another man - much less another vampire. They had all but split paths after that, though rumor had it she had taken to someone else's bed while Tetradore himself had found himself contemplating a particular wolf far more of late. How things had changed.

A soft breath left his lips as he reached for the keys, turning them, and the engine of the vehicle off. There was, he was sure, no denying that Risque had noticed his moment of becoming lost in thought. Tetradore said nothing of it though, merely stepping outside of the vehicle to close the door behind him. Truthfully, he was strikingly grateful to find himself free of Risque's touch, even if he found himself entirely inquisitive as to why his mistress had brought him here. Surely she had not discovered his connection to the female assassin, had she? Was she going to start dismantling every glimpse of a connection he'd made to any singular individual in her absence? His lips pressed together ever so slightly as his emerald gaze darted towards her, watching as Risque's slender physique made her way with a feline fluidity around the hyper sports car. That small gesture to lead the way was all Tetradore required, his head merely nodded in a brief understanding as he so focused upon merely closing himself off from those emotions. In that singular moment, Tetradore had become the very monstrosity that Risque had so trained him to be - those once bright and emotive emerald eyes all but dull with his own apathy.

Tetradore hardly bothered to knock on the front door. His hand instead merely gripped the handle, pulling the door open with striking ease. How rare was it for Vhalla to leave the door unlocked. The moment he pulled it open, however, the distinct scent of Ivan filled his nose, causing his eyebrows to furrow even further. He stepped inside of the warm warehouse, his gaze immediately falling upon the young woman and the vampire in question. He was hardly oblivious to the glimpse of surprise on both of their features as if the pair had merely forgotten he had existed. Frankly, he wasn't particularly astonished, he had been within their lives so little. The Were-King easily stepped aside, his arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the wall beside the door, allowing Risque entrance, all the while curious of what the woman's intentions were here.