The warmth of that cascade of water was a near welcoming embrace compared to the frigidness that had beset his caramel skin in the aftermath of that blood loss. The near sharp contrast was enough to prompt a shudder upon his skin and yet, how quick he was to physically relax in that soothing waterfall. His gaze settled upon the floor, the fallen King simply watching as that once pristine bathtub was too tainted with an almost muddied hue as the water washed the blood, sweat, and grime from his fit figure. The very remains of that poor dead girl seemed to swirl around the drain of his bathtub - forgotten and discarded in the same way that her corpse undoubtedly would be. Slowly, his palms rose, his hands and forearms having born the worst of that bloodshed - his own blood intermingling with her own till his skin was drenched that awful, dark color. Truly, he wasn't even sure why he even bothered to try anymore. It didn't matter. It didn't matter how much he fought against that control. It didn't matter how much he tried to save them or how far he tried to keep everyone from Risque. None of it mattered. There was nothing he could do, when she decided to take them from him. It would be inevitable. She would see him tear through each and every member of his pack - she'd dismantle the very Ark itself with nothing but wicked delight in retaliation for each of his sins. He should just give her what she desired. It would be so much easier...for all of them. It would hurt so much less. His life, after all, was hardly more important than the safety of any singular member of the Pack, much less that family Matteo had given him. He would doom them all...

His fingers reached up, tugging sharply upon that charm that dangled around his neck. That Phoenix that offered him continual life was just another form of a collar, albeit not as obvious as the kind his mistress usually preferred. That chain hardly budged, however, despite his pulling. The metal dug into his skin and yet, it seemed determined to remain - determined to ensure he remained when any willpower to do so had all but left him. A soft shuddering gasp left his lips, those tears almost threatening to overwhelm him again as he leaned forward, his hands resting against the cold tile as that defeat so crushed against him. Aiden hardly reacted to the soft sound of his own name, the man so utterly lost within that stark reality of just how bleak his future was. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be the very monster that Risque so crafted him into and yet what other choice did he have? Every option, every hope he'd clung to, every thought that, maybe, one day he'd be strong enough to overcome her had been torn from him. He blinked away those tears that threatened to flood down his cheeks at the heavy sound of that shower door opening behind him, leaving little but a trembling breath within their wake. Matteo had promised him, once, that Risque would not exist within his life for an eternity and yet, Aiden found himself questioning if the fae could truly be correct. He had made mistakes before - perhaps this was just another of those moments in which fate had hardly been forthcoming.

His emerald irises shifted as Matteo's hand reached around him for the sponge upon the shower's corner caddy. The sound of that French accent prompted a soft sigh from the Hispanic man as Matteo gingerly grasped his arm. Slowly, Aiden shifted to stand, his emerald eyes watched almost dully as Matteo worked to scrub that dried blood from his skin. It took several moments of washing, the water turning colors beneath them, before Tetradore could see the color of his own flesh. He remained still as that sponge touched his body over and over again, rubbing against his arm, his back, the planes of his bare chest, and even his neck. It was only the soft press of that sponge upon his cheeks that caused his gaze to turn towards the fae in front of him - his own emerald irises meeting the silver hue of Matteo's own in that darkened space. Truly, he could hardly understand why Matteo kept coming back to pull him from the depths of Syn. What did it matter if that place claimed yet another soul? Matteo wouldn't find himself so terribly put out on nights such as this - when the world had robbed Tetradore of every ounce of strength he thought himself capable of. His lips parted ever so slightly as he contemplated that very question and yet, that inquiry died upon his lips, the Alpha hardly having the heart to question the fae's intentions. His own pigmented gaze shifted from his father just as that sponge was pressed into his own hand. Perhaps it was far better to merely spare the fae those very considerations to give his mistress what she desired of him - if only for the hopes that, somehow, his defeat might make some difference in sparing everyone he cared so desperately for.

His fingers flexed around the sponge in his hand, those suds squishing out around his hand in the process. That frown tugged at his features and yet, it hardly required much thought for Tetradore to pick up where Matteo had left off. He was wholly inattentive to Matteo's disappearance from the depths of that darkened bathroom - the man instead inclined to stand beneath the water with his face turned upwards for just a few moments longer before his fingers slowly reached for the handle. His dripping figure had only just stepped out of that heated shower when a towel was pressed into his hand. His head bobbed ever so subtly, that small nod the only gesture of acknowledgement he gave as Aiden unfolded that towel, ruffling it against his own damp locks. He wiped the wetness from his caramel skin, though his own efforts were decidedly half-hearted before that towel was merely abandoned upon the tile floor of his bathroom. Tonight, the Were-King had little care for the orderliness of his own bedroom as he stepped sluggishly through the dark throws of the room - the very sight of his bed nothing if not wholly welcoming. He was lethargic in his efforts to pull those long cotton pants over his hips, that loose shirt hung comfortably from his broad shoulders. A soft, exhale left his lips as Tetradore settled on the edge of his bed, his hand reaching up to run through those still damp, curly locks. God, he was so exhausted and yet...for Tobias alone he strove not to fall into the sheets that so awaited him.

It was the heavy sound of footfalls that drew his emerald irises upwards and towards those cracked mahogany doors. He hardly noticed the way in which he held his very breath before Tobias' figure darkened his doorway - although Matteo had insisted his childhood companion was alive, he somehow still struggled to push away that imagery that had been all but burned into his skull for hours. His gaze softened near immediately, Tobias hardly requiring even the slightest of coaxing before the boy launched himself near across the room at the weakened Alpha. The very impact alone was enough to send Aiden tumbling back into his own sheets and yet, at that moment, it hardly even mattered. His arms immediately wrapped around his companion, his face buried into Tobias' shoulder as he simply breathed in the scent of his best friend. How close he had come tonight to losing the deviant. The very thought of it brought another wavering breath to his lips though he refused to let those tears fall again - not with Tobias. The boy found crying to be terribly unsettling, after all. A soft sniffle left his nose as Tobias pulled backward, leaving Tetradore's glassy emerald eyes to stare up at his companion. A weak simper crossed his features as Tetradore reached up, letting his hand settle upon the back of Tobias' neck. Gingerly, his head bumped against his companion's own in a small, rare glimpse of affection for the man. "I am glad you did not come. You can't go back there - remember? Promise me?" He murmured softly. The last thing he needed was to have Tobias back within Risque's grasp, lest tonight's....awful illusion somehow became a reality. Slowly, Tetradore pulled away, only to glance up at his father. "Thank you." He muttered and yet, those words held every bit of sincerity as he could muster.