The icy grey sky restlessly grumbles as clouds part with a sigh, roaring rain pounding on the men, reflecting the hazardous yet calm anger that brews within the warlord.

The harsh rain obliterates the crystal reflection of the sky and turns it into a disoriented haze that only sharpens his senses further acutely, and as darkness shifts, so does his reptilian calculative eyes - drifting from one man's face to another.

In the dimness of his mind, Hadrius feels his wolf rise on its haunches, shifting the thinness of skin that struggles to maintain his human form. He is hot to the touch, firm lips twitching with a spasm of vexation.

Anger is an understatement, fury itself seems nothing more than a speck of dust before the warlord's building temper. Knowing that one of his men had touched a possession of his was not only degrading but outright insulting. A challenge to his title for no respect lay in such actions.

It stained his authority over them as Beta, second-in-command to Alpha.

He flexes his jaw, canines extending to pierce the flesh of his lower lip. The culprit would earn his retribution.

Hadrius squeezes his human's shoulders, indignation set in the hardness of his tone. "Point him out."

She neither moved nor spoke.

He feels the muscles along her back tense and bunch up almost reflexively, like a cat threatened and waiting to spring away.

His fingers dig into the softened flesh of her collarbones as he struggles to inhale a measured breath, forcing himself to see past the pinprick of red fog that misted across his vision.

It had taken more than will to subdue his wolf. After seeing her in remnants of tattered clothing, scenting the musk of another man staining her skin - Hadrius almost choked on his rage, and had it not been for Dante that forced him back, he would have demanded a bloodbath, spearing through innocent and guilty alike for nothing could satiate the disrespect.

His insides churn like acid, patience thinner than dried grasses at the end of summer. "Pick him out," Hadrius whispers again, lowly such that only she could hear through the rain, "or I will slaughter every one of the slaves."

An empty threat that only she would fall for.

That proves itself enough as her arm demurely shifts to rise.

Hadrius stills, watching, following the length of her hand as the index finger finally pointed towards the edge of the line where a man stands.

Odin.

Pressure rises in Hadrius' mouth, causing a muscle in his jaw to twitch. "Odin," he speaks with careful precision.

Odin's face blanches, matching the blond strands of hair. "What is this nonsense!" The man bellows, seeking Hadrius' gaze but the warlord had already turned. "Hadrius-"

"Tie him up," Hadrius commands whilst walking away, "his punishment will be meted and placed accordingly."

He turns a deaf ear to the brief violent scuffle that breaks out behind him. "She is just a slave!" Odin exclaims his outrage of innocence and justifications.

River flinches at the sight before her and hastily drops her gaze to avoid Odin's wrathful stare and the slaves speculating ones. Her heart thunders within, the short curtain of hair doing little to shade her from the chaotic world around.

She stands still and dumbly, clutching her hands with a tightness that pales her knuckles paperwhite, then tentatively peers up from beneath her wet lashes at Odin who was being dragged towards a slightly raised platform.

Wooden beams had been burrowed on either side, an appropriate space between. Odin was strong, thick distinguishable veins surfacing along his neck and forehead while two men wrestle him towards the platform. He froths at the mouth whilst screaming obscenities directed at her, the slaves, the men, Hadrius, and finally, the gods.

"Return to work," One man bellows at the lingering slaves. He brandishes a whip that cracks it in the air. The girls scurry away like spiders, River following close by.

"He has been prepared." Hadrius glances in time to find his second man, Dante, standing rigid by the doorway.

Hadrius' eyes lowers to the cup in hand. The wolfsbane that was once filled to the brim now idled at the near bottom, his reflection swirling on the thin surface. He licks the back of his teeth thoughtfully, "Good," he speaks with a strange touch of candour.

Lifting the cup, he downs the final contents, a low growl reverberating from the center of his chest as acerbic bitter contents burn the linings of his mouth, corrode his oesophagus, settling thickly into the heat of his stomach.

Slamming the cup down, Hadrius pushes away from the table and makes for the exit.

Outside, the rain had abated to a drizzle, fields empty of slaves as his men hover by with calm uncertainty, unnatural pairs of eyes watching the warlord slowly walk to the podium.

Odin's face is flushed despite the cold weather. He had been lowered to his knees like a penitent, thick silver chains binding his ankles and wrists, spreading his arms wide on either side.

Seeing him then, Hadrius feels a sliver of pleasure thrum through him. The thought of torturing the man fills him with unbearable pleasure, and he bares his teeth in a vicious smile.

"Tell me, Odin," Hadrius hums, brandishing a small dagger from his waist pocket and thumbing the sharp double edge.

He unhurriedly climbs the podium and edges towards the man, dragging a wistful finger along with the chain links, clink clink clink.

"What were you intending to do to my human?"

"She is a slave." Odin begins, a diminutive quiver lacing his voice. "She is a slave, Hadrius." He punctuates, as though the sentence is enough of an explanation.

"That may be so," Hadrius circles him like a vulture, halting before the man and crouching low. He taps the dagger's tip beneath the man's chin, forcing his gaze up, "but who does she belong to."

"She is just a mortal-"

Hadrius sighs impatiently, and lowers the blade in a quick, sweeping motion that tears the front of Odin's pants, his manhood spills out from the confines.

"Who does she belong to." Hadrius whispers, cupping the man's balls and squeezing tight where his spermatic chord ropes beneath thin, scaly skin. They leap in his large palm reflexively.

Terror shadows Odin's eyes, a pleading intonation to his voice. He begins to speak, to beg, to plead. "Hadrius please-"

"Tsk," Hadrius clicks his tongue and lowers the blade to his testes, sweeping the cold metal surreptitiously over his pubic hair then curving it just beneath his duct deferens. He feels the arterial pulse flatter like the wings of a moth, feels the rush of blood thrum. "My patience is wearing thin, wolf."

"You!" He suddenly breaks out violently struggling against the chains, "She belongs to you, my lord, only you."

"Yet you found it fit to defile her."

"I did not- She was- she came onto me! I swear it! She had been trying for the past week-"

"Yet you did not report it." The warlord finished calmly, squeezing the pair of testes.

"I was going to but I decided to punish her on your behalf."

Hadrius cocks his head to the side, briefly studying the piteous man stained in tears and mucus, "I see," he pauses, allowing the drift of silence to deceive the man's racing heartbeat into a stagger of dull hope. "It seems even in the face of the death you will never admit to fault, let this serve as a warning to the rest."

"Hadrius ple-" Odin's voice catches as the blade slices upwards in a swift curving motion, separating his testes from the body so quickly the pain is yet to register. And when it does, it is too late.

Hadrius' hand shoots out like a viper, grabbing Odin's jaw and prying it open.

"Open up Odin," ignoring the cries of burning anguish, Hadrius stuffs both testes into Odin's mouth then clamps his jaw shut. He stares in awe as Odin's face clouds in agony then crumbles into a caricature of something hideous. "You will not be released until you have consumed it all."

Wiping off the blood that sleeked his palm on Odin's tear-stained face, Hadrius rises and tosses the blade aside while turning to the spectating men. When he speaks, his voice draws itself darkly; "Let this be a warning for anyone who dares disrespect me in any manner," his upper lip curls in a disdained snarl, "I will not be as lenient next time."

Men part like the red sea as he walks past them, clenching and unclenching his fists, still unable to completely reign in his anger. He would have killed Odin had it been an option, but that would be far too brutal and killing a fellow wolf would be an act of pack betrayal.

Hadrius steps into the building, and, closing his eyes, places his fingers upon the lids, as though he sought to imprison such thoughts and the Beast it stirred to life. His skin sparks irritably.

"Stop," he growls lowly and the restless shifting draws to a halt.

Reaching for the door, he hears hurried movement on the opposite end. The familiar stuttering heartbeat of the human as she backs away from the barrier and seeks something to do - anything to feign disinterest and show that she had not been pressed against the barrier, listening for his movements.

Hadrius opens the door and his eyes immediately find her figure in one corner, pretence in her actions as she folds random clothes. He watches her a moment longer, noting the tension that stiffened her shoulders.

The clothes she still wears remain torn where Odin had violated.

"Human."

The girl stops folding, a slight tick to her cheek as she stiffly turns around and, with force, draws her gaze upwards to his.

She does not look away as his black gaze switches over her closed-off posture, lingered on her neck then down to her ripped skirt.

His lips thin as a dark conclusion dawn on his face.

"Did he touch you?"

"No," she admits faintly, "he almost but I stabbed him with your dagger."

Hadrius studied her, his imperturbable expression offering no sign of relief or annoyance. He nods slowly, "I see," stepping into the room, he makes for the bathroom then halts halfway, gazing at the divan for a heartbeat before speaking;

"You will sleep in my bed tonight."