It had been so easy when she was a girl, the unyielding trust in adults so deeply ingrained in her mind that she never once thought to resist him. He inhaled as he remembered her eyes, looking up at him as he dressed, hoping for praise. She now sat, eyes forward, lips a tight line of defiance. She had been scared when they first brought her in but quickly put up the mask of impassiveness, of invulnerability. It both frustrated and excited him. This was a far more interesting hunt, he thought. He longed to see her eyes break and drink in the smell of her fear again. He gripped the shambok tightly, feeling the cold leather against his palm and snapped it against the floor, making her jump instinctively. Oh yes, he would break her. He whirled to face her but her eyes refused to focus on him, only kept staring straight ahead. He growled and whipped the shambok up against her chin, pressing hard enough to elicit an involuntary gasp from her but still, she stared ahead. He pressed a hand against her thigh, fingers creeping higher until he reached the cotton of her underwear. A tightening of the jaw but no recognition from her eyes. He was getting impatient now. He grinned, a predators grin and kissed her brutally, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She recoiled and bit him, hard. He stumbled back in shock, hand going up to stop the blood now streaming from his lip. Enraged, he drew back his fist and punched her in the solar plexus, a smile tweaking the uninjured half of his lips as he heard her vomit splattter on the floor.