A coldness gripped the once warm-blooded Alpha. It was a frigidness that ran through his very bones, the kind that so sweetly serenaded his body with a siren call for sleep, the very kind that might prove incapable of rousing from. It was that overwhelming sorrow, however, that stole the remainder of his strength. His body was wracked with tears that traced wet trails down his cheeks, each shuddering movement prompting with it that physical agony that surely only further contributed to the sobbing that all but assaulted him. He hardly had the strength to push away the hand that brushed tenderly against his pale shoulder before that figure slowly eased down on to the tile floor. There was a comforting familiarity to the arms that enveloped him, the sorts of which his own figure knew innately. Those fragile walls that so often surrounded Tetradore's heart near tumbled down around him at the very security that Matteo's presence offered him. His head shifted ever so slightly, the Were-King content to simply bury himself into Matteo's chest before his arms sluggishly lifted to wrap around the fae in some desperate attempt to cling to the Frenchman. Matteo, after all, was once again all Tetradore had left. He'd been so foolishly naive to believe he might find any sort of strength within those relationships he'd fostered in those precious years as the Nightshade's Alpha. He'd been an idiot to think he was ever capable of truly finding himself free. They would all pay for it, for his mistake - each and every one of his pack members. She'd dismantle them all in the same way she'd seen him tear apart Tobias.

All of that blood he'd spilled - blood that still caked his flesh, encrusted in his skin, and staining him in the memories of what he'd done. His every breath was shaky, as his shoulders shuddered with every sob. The soft, gentle sound of that French accent did particularly little to soothe him. Everything, after all, was not okay. Everything would never be okay ever again. He hardly bothered, at that moment, to argue that very point, his head merely shaking side to side ever so slightly as those tears fell with all the more intensity. In those long, silent moments, Tetradore only seemed to grip his companion tighter as he cried out the grief and hurt that had afflicted him for so long tonight. It had been years since he'd so fallen apart in such a manner - the pair so rarely spoke of what transpired in the depths of the demonic dance club and, in turn, a part of the man childishly believed that even he could keep those darker tendencies and actions from the Frenchman himself, even though he knew well of his father's all-seeing eyes. This - however, there was no hiding from. This he could not just ignore in the same way he tended to ignore all of those other deaths he'd been the cause of. His grip upon Matteo tightened as if he feared the fae might, for some reason, leave him too. Those worries, though unvocalized, clearly had not gone unrealized as, softly, Matteo promised him he'd stay. No matter what, for now, he'd stay...that was, unless Risque herself darkened the doorway of the Ark.

He was well aware of that soft press of Matteo's chin against his head as the Frenchman simply held him, though quieting those sobs had become an altogether difficult task. Tetradore was so lost within the depths of his own grief that he hardly noticed the bright light that seemed to emanate from the fae in front of him, a light that so washed Aiden's own frame as the sheer potency of the Frenchman's power ran rampant through his system. Those cuts and bruises were chased away from his skin, the pieces of his shattered ribs falling into place all over again as the puncture to his lungs knitted together, gifting the man the simple act of an unlabored breath. That color and warmth slowly returned to his figure, the once physical exhaustion dissipating in turn and, slowly, Tetradore unconsciously began to relax in the comfort of Matteo's arms. Though the physical pain had vanished, and though the man no longer lingered on death's door, his broken soul and emotional exhaustion still persisted in each of those shaky breaths. The silence seemed to stretch out between them as Aiden emptied himself of that despondency that could no longer be contained behind his usual facade of stoicism. The simple sound of his name upon Matteo's lips prompted several soft inhales as he tried to push back those tears, that subtle acknowledgment all the Frenchman needed to offer some thread of hopeful truth to the terrors he'd experienced the last few hours.

It was painfully difficult to allow himself even the slightest bit of hope that his spotted companion was alive - not when he had felt the boy's body shudder under his sharpened claws. For a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, those sobs subsiding to sniffles as he pulled back ever so slightly, his forehead still pressed lightly against Matteo's chest. How he abhorred filtering through his own memory, searching for any indication that all that he experienced had been little more than the result of Risque's venom. He was sure he would have remembered had her fangs touched his flesh, the woman often delighting in tearing apart his caramel flesh with those pointed canines. Tentatively, his fingers rose to his own neck, brushing against the slope of his pristine skin. His head shook in a slight glimpse of disagreement, the man certain that what had occurred tonight had hardly been a figment of his imagination. After all...he'd...eaten the boy - the pieces of Tobias heart filling his stomach, the very thought of it producing that acidic bile in his mouth he struggled to swallow down. Matteo's insistence that she hardly required that venom to produce such illusions was, admittedly, hard to believe. Why would she have waited until now to unleash such an affinity when she could have surely done so much more prior to now? Softly, Tetradore protested that truth offered to him, those words utterly impossible for the man to understand when he was so certain of what he had done. Tentatively, his emerald eyes turned upwards, trusting the Frenchman to provide those answers that he so struggled to see. Matteo, he knew, would not lie to him. Not about this. Never about this.

That weak simper upon his father's lips hardly helped to still the anxiety that gripped his fluttering heart. Apart of Tetradore feared the answer Matteo might give him, just as much as he was so utterly glad that it had not been his childhood friend. Even so, he still...struggled to distance himself from the horrors of the night, the man almost failing to truly believe that Tobias was....fine. Not until he'd seen the boy for himself. His emerald eyes searched the depths of those pale silver irises, that truth almost...difficult to hear in its own way. His head slowly bobbed at the very mention of the skittish snow leopard, his vibrant eyes slowly turned downwards towards the floor. She hadn't deserved that fate - the poor girl should have had a life far better than what she'd been given, and a death far swifter than what he had beset her with. Tetradore offered hardly a syllable in response, the man far too remorseful of the life he'd unknowingly taken. She was hardly the first innocent soul who had fallen to his claws, their faces, after all, had a tendency to haunt him for months on end before they were lost to the next, greater horror Risque pushed upon him. Tonight would hardly be easy upon him - those nightmares sure to keep that restful sleep he needed at bay as he so ruminated upon his utter failure to save the leopard, regardless of whether or not it had been Tobias or her.

Tetradore was inattentive, at that moment, as Matteo's hand lifted to summon the plush ivory blanket from his bed. The very warmth of it was all but welcomed against his naked flesh and yet, the only thought that crossed his mind was how filthy it too would get for touching his blood-crusted skin. The very scent of his father and that French chateau filled his very senses, his adrenaline filled figure so finding itself all the more...exhausted when surrounded by such comforts. His eyebrows furrowed as Matteo instructed him to feel for that bond that so connected him to his own pack - the Were-King mentally reaching for those very links and yet, the sheer amount of concentration it required saw him near hesitate to answer as he checked on each and every thread that connected him to his pack. It was, admittedly, comforting to feel them there - the familiar sensation of Mira and Tobias so quickly sought for by the Alpha even though he made little attempt to inform either of the pair of any need for them. It was merely that...presence he wanted at that moment, though both were unlikely to notice that mental brush of the Were-King so early in the morning. "I..." He started, his voice faltering as he considered his father's offer to fetch the deviant boy. His head shook ever so slightly, the indecision clearly getting the best of him. "I don't know," Tetradore muttered a few moments later. On one hand, he yearned to see his childhood friend alive and well - to put to rest those fears that still gripped his heart and yet he was so used to hiding moments such as these from prying eyes that he was almost...uncomfortable with the idea of letting even Tobias see his Alpha crumpled on the bathroom floor.

Such thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a mere whisper in the silence, those words all but heavy between them and yet, Aiden was all too aware of the truth of them. "I know." He responded, his own voice equally as quiet. It was the same thing she always sought from him - compliance, servitude, fear, love. She had been...so effective at driving that very point home as if gifting him a glimpse into his future if he failed to fall sway to her desires. Tobias was alive...this time. Though whether or not he was next time, or Mira, or Alexis, or Henry, or Raven...next time Tetradore might not be so lucky. Whatever safety he'd thought he'd crafted for each of them, whatever plan he thought he had in place to stop her...it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. For as long as he was alive and in their lives, they would never be safe. Not the pack. Not Nadya. Not Matteo. Not Dorian. Their lives hung within the balance and every time he said no to her, she would get closer and closer to destroying everyone he cared for. He hardly anticipated the warm embrace of Matteo's arms around him, drawing him closer to the man's chest for just a brief moment. His emerald eyes slowly turned upwards, Tetradore unable to help that soft sniff as Matteo's thumb gingerly reached up to brush away those lingering tears from his cheek, rubbing against the dried blood upon his face.

It was, however, that singular question that saw the Alpha still, his emerald eyes simply staring at that bright silver irises. How long he had yearned to hear those words. As a child, the boy often daydreamed that, one day, Matteo might appear within the depths of his room or outside the cage he had often been confined to with the promise that, finally, he could go home with the Frenchman. It was almost cruel to hear those words now that he had a reason to stay. A soft breath left his lips as Aiden slowly pulled himself from Matteo's grasp, the man settling against the wall opposite of the fae, that blanket still surrounding him in a cocoon of sorts. His gaze turned towards the floor, tracing the grout in the tile. He swallowed, his tongue brushing against his lips as Tetradore steadied his own breath. The Alpha's head shook side to side ever so slightly. "No." He whispered softly, silent for a moment before Aiden expanded upon that singular words, his emerald eyes never once leaving the floor. "I should stay...in case she calls. I don't want to give her a reason to come here if I don't come." He reached up, wiping his nose against his forearm, just above where that crusted blood started. It was better for them all if he stayed here...alone. To face her by himself in the same way he had his whole life.