Tetradore knew, to an extent, that he was putting them all at risk. He had made it quite obvious that it was his his pack to be held responsible for the damage he caused tonight. Hell, he intended to ensure Frost knew exactly which of those surely numerous deaths he had caused was coming back to haunt him. It was for this reason he had primarily ensured his pack remained wholly oblivious to his continued existence - for the innocence they might have should the ivory steed come after them again. This was entirely between them and he was determined to see that through. His fingers worked deftly at the fuse box in the corner of the kitchen, the wires stripped and twisted with the experience that only came from hot-wiring those cars he stole so frequently. The lights above nearly started flicking on cue, producing a hint of a simper upon his features and yet, Tetradore knew time was always of the essence when in enemy territory. Those clothes were nearly torn off his frame in a hurried fashion, that shift sending his body quivering even as the feline darted from the kitchen but mere seconds before the Nordic man stepped over the threshold. Those flowers assaulted his senses much in the same fashion they had Frost's own and yet, beneath even that sweet perfume, there was a hint of a smell wholly familiar to him. Nadya. How...irritating. His hackles rose and yet, any further thought of his sibling's fraternization with the man who had so murdered him was fleeting in the wake of his actions.

His anger was effortlessly taken out on the wallpapered walls of that dining room, shredding the paper as if his claws were but a hot knife going through butter. The sound of them hitting the wood beneath was decidedly loud in the otherwise silence of the house, drown out but moment's later by a cry of alarm from the very man whom he now so taunted. Tetradore could hardly help the smugness that filled him, the pleasure he drew from inducing that fear should have been frightening to him and yet, any hint of the caring, devoted man he usual was all but vanished in the wake of that fury that had overcome him. His sibling had betrayed him. His girlfriend had been tormented. His pack member had been wounded. And in the wake of all of it, Frost had continually come out at the top. He had won everything and Tetradore was no longer merely going to wait for the situation to resolve itself. If the equine failed to take him seriously, to regard him with any kind of wariness, he would force that fear within the man with or without his affinity. The feline instead drifted further through that house, any creaking of the wooden floors beneath his paws surely hidden beneath that sheer volume of that chair clattering on the tiled floor.

A low, threatening growl reverberated in his throat before that affinity took hold of him, seeing his figure vanish entirely. He watched as the man simply stumbled out into the hallway, exactly where the were-king had so wanted him. The light above them flickered and yet, there was little doubt that the equine saw him, even as he simply stood there. The man's voice seemed to echo in that space, and yet, Tetradore took a singular step forward, moving down that hallway at a slow prowling pace. He hardly reacted to those softly uttered words, the panther all too aware of that first, delicate crack in that usually formidable mind. His own affinity nearly assaulted the man in that moment, so working with what little weaseling he could and yet, his own crafting was decidedly lackluster in comparison to the usual creativity. The room seemed to darken ever so slightly into a blackness that was almost inky when not beneath the glow of those flickering lights. His own form seemed to grow larger in size with each forward step and yet it was that simple curse word that so saw that house plunge into darkness.

His form disappeared from that hallway, instead reappearing behind the man, that shift back from feline to man occurring just as quickly. Those bare feet stepped closer towards Frost's back, all too aware of that soft brush of heat that touched his skin, stopping him from going any nearer. Still, his lips parted, a single whispered word leaving his lips - "Revenge." And just like that, Tetradore was gone. Rather, he retreated to the nearby kitchen, collecting those articles of clothing in his arms before twisting those wires back to how they rightfully belonged - that light flooding the house once again. The door to the fuse box was closed softly in his wake, even as he once again teleported to the safety of that room across the street, keeping an eye on that home as he redressed. Tonight was but the first of many nights, the feline content to nearly stalk the man in the wake of all he had done for the next several months. He revisited Frost on more than one occasion, content to wreck any havoc he was capable of all whilst under this guise of a poltergeist. Somehow, it made being 'dead' not all that bad afterall.