Horror crossed his face unbidden the more Jadyka spoke. He couldn't help it; he wore his expressions directly on his face, no matter how hard he tried to school his features into something less shocked. Some part of him almost hoped that Axel and Ian weren't the same person because he couldn't bear the thought of his Ian--the one that he knew--being subjected to such an awful life. Not even a life, actually. Just a death sentence and for what...? Something beyond his control? Aren didn't know what happened to turn him into this thing that Jadyka spoke of, an alpha-rated losrian? But it seemed an awful lot like Ian--Axel--whomever--was being punished for it.
So... he was leaking fire. Starving. Just waiting to die? His mouth turned downward and there was a brief, ugly sting behind his eyes. All he could imagine was horror. No escape. Breathing in hard through his nose, he forced himself not to fall apart. Now wasn't the time for that; he had to prove he was up to this task because everybody seemed to find only endless amusement and doubt in his stubborn will to be a handler for him. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, angry and helpless to express it.
He watched as Jadyka ripped straight into the storage locker for the euphoria and he stared at the bottle. That was all that came between leaking fire and not leaking fire? Hard to believe how far such things had come. Aren remained silent until they arrived and he was told to stay back. As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn't argue with such sound advice. Aren wasn't in the least fireproof. Jadyka... well. He obviously was. So Aren remained outside, his insides trembling with anger and helplessness. He felt... useless. And he hated it. Quickly, he turned his head away, staring down the hall and wondering, perhaps for the first time, what he really, really got himself into.