The emerald of his irises brushed across the large grey tiles of his floor, the pristine slate near as mystifying as the untainted caramel of his own wet skin. How quickly the evidence of the murder he'd committed had been wiped away. How quickly any lingering shred of that poor clouded leopard simply...disappeared, just like the girl herself undoubtedly would. How he agonized over that guilt, over that shame! He should have been able to save her! He'd thought that if he just tried hard enough, if he simply was strong enough, he'd find a way to triumph over his mistress' oppressive, domineering power. In the end, he had failed...and she had stolen everything from him. She stripped the Were-King of every ounce of dignity, every measure of confidence, every illusion of control, and, more importantly, every hope for any future beyond the suffocating walls of Syn and her silver collars. His fingers were functioning on autopilot as his hands wiped away any remaining droplets from his skin. His hair was slightly jostled, those brunette locks damp but no longer dripping. Though Aiden was physically present within that bathroom, with some measure of functionality, his thoughts were anywhere but. His mind was seemingly lost within that hellish office, stuck at Risque's feet with the illusioned body of his best friend and the realization of all he could loose with one singular misstep. How he strove to find some reason for the reckless rebelliousness that he'd engaged in for so long. It's purpose, it's glamour, all of it was somehow...lost now.

It was only the heavy French accent that drew Aiden from the depths of those dark considerations of submission, his head bobbed ever so slightly in a subtle gesture of acknowledgment. Aiden hardly uttered a syllable as Matteo left him in the silence of his still heated bathroom - the steam from the shower still filled the small space, fogging the mirror and clinging to the tiles underfoot. His towel slowly slipped from its position upon his shoulders, tumbling to the ground to land with a soft thud upon the floor. Tetradore hardly cared, however, the Hispanic man merely sluggishly dragging his feet as he moved through the obscurity of his bedroom. How utterly welcoming his bed looked - those sheets calling to his exhausted figure in a way that was a struggle to deny. It was that promise of seeing Tobias alone that caused Tetradore to instead reach for those clothes laid out for him. His fingers were lethargic as he pulled those long cotton pants over his hips, the Alpha altogether oblivious of his father's figure leaning heavily upon the wall of the hallway outside. Rather, Tetradore himself all but fell upon the edge of his bed. A heavy breath left his lips as he slowly leaned forward on his forearms. He buried his head within his hands, that despondency so tightly gripping him in the still silence that surrounded him. He hardly had to wait long, however, before the heavy sound of footfalls drew his gaze upwards and towards the cracked mahogany doors.

Although his trust within Matteo was near everlasting, even Tetradore found himself unable to help the hints of disbelief that tightly gripped him somewhere within. After those hours upon hours of staring at his best friend's dead body, he found himself holding his breath as a figure darkened his doorway. Tobias. A gentle exhale left his lips as his gaze softened. Tobias hardly required any coaxing before the deviant threw himself across the room and into the drained Alpha's arms. The pair tumbled back into the ivory comforter though nothing mattered to Aiden quite as much as the man that all but clung to him. His arms wrapped around Tobias form, his head buried in the boy's shoulder as he breathed in his childhood companion's scent. He was sluggish to shift away from the boy, Tobias himself making the first move before those broken words insisted it was Matteo's fault he had waited oh so patiently within the safety of the Ark rather than venturing into the depths of hell in some misguided effort to follow the Alpha. Oh how much worse things could have been had the Frenchman allowed Tobias to rush headlong into Syn. How easily the illusions of tonight could have become a reality - and how that very thought terrified Aiden. The very sound of his sniffle seemed to prompt Tobias' head to shift to the side though neither of the men commented upon Tetradore's clear state of blantant...vulnerability. Rather, his hand rose to settle on the back of Tobias' neck, his forehead gingerly bumping against his companion's own in a feline manner as he demanded a single promise from the boy - one that meant the world to him in the present moment.

How aware he was of that glimpse of uncertainty upon Tobias' features, the boy clearly contemplating all how he might get out of such a binding agreement, much less what it might mean for those many evenings Tetradore himself disappeared. Slowly, however, Tobias' head bobbed in agreement, those two simple words prompted a reassuring simper upon Aiden's features, feeble though it was. The emerald of his irises turned towards Matteo, those muttered words every bit sincere as he thanked his father for all he had done to ensure the welfare of the lanky deviant. In some ways, Tobias' state of wellbeing was all that truly mattered - that singular fact perhaps the only thing that might prove enough to pull the shattered pieces of the Were-King together again. The last thing Tetradore expected, however, was the declaration of some sort of....gift. His gaze turned downwards towards dirty once white dog in Tobias' hands as it was thrust towards him. Why the boy had kept the dog after all these years still baffled him, the thing had gone through mud, food fights, and an array of other....events that certainly had mangled it's once pristine state. Still, he knew how rare the boy was inclined to share of his own accord. This, despite how unseemly it was, clearly was of great importance and value to his friend and that, in turn, made him grateful, regardless of how worthless the object seemed. "Thank you." He murmured as he took Charles into his hands, though how the toy might 'protect' him still remained to be seen.

His gaze lingered upon the little dog within his palms as Matteo wandered within the room. The very mention of the pack saw his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as his emerald irises slowly turned upwards towards the pair. The pack. He was not yet ready to face them, not when he found himself failing to justify his own position as their Alpha. It was his responsibility, after all, to keep them all safe. His very presence, his simple existence within the Ark, however, only brought each and every one of them closer to that danger that stalked his every movement. A soft exhale left Tetradore's lips as his gaze turned towards the floor, his indecision wracked him. How he yearned to stay within that bedroom, to bury himself within those blankets until the world at large forgot of him - and yet she would never allow such a thing. So absorbed Tetradore was within his own thoughts that he hardly noticed the touch of Matteo's hand upon his arm, not before it was simply too late. How familiar he'd become to those sensations of teleportation, the comforting familiarity of the Ark instead replaced with the ivory walls of Matteo's French chateau. Chambord was so...still and silent in comparison to the creaking and rocking of the Ark and yet, the warmth of that fireplace was nothing if not utterly appealing in the darkness that permeated his own room.

That slight gesture towards the freshly made bed was, admittedly, all that Aiden required. That fight within him had been all but extinguished, leaving the Alpha with little desire than to even argue his return to the Ark or the city of Sacrosanct. It was but the insistence that she could not find him here that caused that frown to shift ever so slightly upon his features, prompting the man to pause with a single whispered utterance. "She can find me anywhere." It was a fact he knew with such distinct certainty. If Risque willed it, she would travel the world to drag him back to Syn - leaving bodies in her wake with blatant disregard. Whether or not she chose to, whether or not she noticed his absence tonight, however, was another matter entirely. Aiden was hardly prepared for the arms that suddenly wrapped around him in the wake of his words. His frame was gently drawn into the solid chest of his father's in a tender hug. The very wetness of Matteo's clothes prompted a shiver to his frame and yet, Tetradore neither said nor did little in the embrace of Matteo's arms.

That hug hardly lasted long, however, before the fae stepped away only to gesture towards the chair in front of the flickering flames. His gaze followed Matteo's fingers towards the chair and yet if he saw through that weakly veiled excuse, he said little of it. Rather, Aiden made his way towards the bed, the Alpha all but collapsing into those sheets. He pulled those warm blankets up to his chin, settling into the mattress' comfortable embrace as that exhaustion all but slammed into him. The crackling sound of the fireplace was almost akin to a lullaby, though truly Aiden required little before sleep stole him away - evening out his breath as his poor, tired figure so continued its efforts to heal without the despondency of his own thoughts weakening his resolve. Tetradore was inattentive to the rest of the world - to Gregory or Matteo or that conversation that existed in conspiratorily whispered words of just how close he'd been to death tonight. It would hardly be the only time. Tonight was just a glimpse of all that would surely come with Risque's newfound depravity and yet, for now, Aiden was content to simply relish in what little peace he might find. Those moments, after all, were far too fleeting.