Adriel’s lips drew back as an instinctual snarl rumbled from deep within his chest, the only physical protest he could manage as a hand slipped between his legs to ‘help’ him. Even if he’d had the option, his ego wouldn’t have allowed him to pull away. Temper flared behind hazel eyes, that deep-rooted anger without a doubt his great vice. Backing down from a fight, no matter how the odds were stacked against him, was simply not an option. “Fucking perfect,” he growled, voice a little tight after the rough treatment, but unwilling to break yet.<br/><br/>A second - or third - look at the prisoners around him wasn’t necessary, Adriel already familiar with the sorry sights that had greeted him upon waking. For the first time since opening his eyes, however, he felt a flicker of… well, he wouldn’t call it fear. Not for himself. Concern, perhaps, for those around him. None of them would be leaving here alive, nor would they be granted the mercy of dying under their captor had ripped the information he wanted from their weary bodies and sorry souls.<br/><br/>“If you knew anything about humans, you’d know pain and humiliation only fuels our desire for freedom. We. Do. Not. Kneel,” Adriel said slowly, eyes locked with his jailer’s. Breathe, he reminded himself. Nikolaus was practically right there next to him, calmly instructing him to ‘control what he could control’. His teeth remained sheathed when the man reached for him again, the oddly light touch sending mixed signals to a body already in distress. To be honest, any touch that wasn’t rough and demanding was something of a novelty for the human. It unsettled him more than anything his jailor had done thus far. As the man moved even closer, Adriel felt the first spark of uncertainty… followed by a faint flicker of fear.<br/><br/>“Do I get a name to scream out for your pleasure or do you want me to surprise you?” Adriel smirked, tamping down every emotion except anger. He drew on that, nostrils flaring as he drew in the man’s scent and let it fuel the growing hatred. In his youth, he had plunged headfirst into the cold well of his magic and rendered spells that were erratic at best. Nik had worked with him on descending slowly, spiraling deeper into the darkness that dwelt within him. With each emotion he shed, Adriel felt the bone-deep chill of his magic rise a little closer to the surface. For what he planned, numb was exactly what he needed to be.<br/><br/>Never breaking eye contact with the jailor, Adriel breathed out in a low tone, “Those markings aren’t meant to protect me.” Heartbeats. His own. His jailor’s. Several others with which he was less familiar, some weak enough already that they never would have made it out alive anyhow. Those were the ones he focused on, his fellow captives’, cutting off their lives in a single heartbeat. Unbeknownst to him, without the restrictions his tattoos placed on his magic it flowed unchecked from the room, rising like floodwaters past the walls of his prison. There would be time to mourn later, but he held onto the emptiness within him until the already low reserves of his magic were nearly depleted.<br/><br/>His hands began to tremble in the chains, fingers curling to hide the fact, though he couldn’t stop the rest of his body from shaking as cold and fatigue set in. The life in his eyes was duller, voice strained and weak, but it was worth it to know his fellow captives had finally been granted mercy. “No.. nobody has to teach… a wolf how to kill,” he whispered. “It is… restraint they have to learn.”