Forty-eight hours. He had forty-eight hours before they flipped the switch and his inner beast was unleashed. He rolled his shoulders as he stalked through the underground hallway towards her cell. Most days, he couldn't really tell the difference between when the Soldier was in charge and when he was. But for some reason, with that girl, something made him want to keep the Soldier at bay. And he hated it.

He kicked the door open, anger flaring at the stupid fucking smile she shot at him. He yanked the knife out of his back pocket and strode up to her, eyes dark and face hard, pushing the knife into her face.

Although she fought hard to keep the smile on her face and the fear out of her eyes, he knew better. He could smell it on her. He had her attention this time. She was afraid.

He flicked his wrist casually, bringing the tip of the knife to graze against the soft skin of her neck, just enough pressure to scratch the skin without breaking it. Her chest quivered as she sucked in a breath, and he watched as she swallowed, the delicate muscles of her throat flexing under her skin. He brought his eyes lazily back up from the end of the knife where it pressed into her throat up to those beautiful blue eyes, flecks of gold winking at him in the waves of blue.

He tilted his head as he studied her, watching the way she forced the fear out of her eyes, the way she controlled her breathing, the way she carefully held her body in as relaxed a pose as possible. His eyes widened with a start. He was actually… Intrigued by her. Interested, curious beyond the cursory amount required to extract information. Maybe that's how he could break her then. If he was intrigued, maybe she was too? Combine that with a little hope, and before you know it she'd be like honey in his hands.

Ella had the distinct impression that this must be what the animals in the zoo feel like when the people watch them in their cages. She felt cornered, surrounded by the overwhelming presence of the man crouched before her, pressing a knife into her throat. He was looking at her the way she imagined most predators watched their prey. With calculated intent, awareness, and a little bit of interest. She fought back the shiver threatening to roll over her spine at the feel of the knife digging into her neck, and bile rose in her throat when he tilted his head to study her further.

She could smell the death that hung off his broad shoulders, rolling in waves to warn those around him to placate or fold. With a jolt she realized that despite the intensity of both of their interactions thus far, they had yet to actually even speak to each other. He hadn't peppered her with questions or demanded any answers. He just studied her, nearly choked the life out of her, and now pressed a knife to her throat.

Maybe this was it then. Maybe they'd grown bored of asking her questions. Maybe he was sent here to watch her die.

"Ready to go?" He rumbled, voice barely above a whisper, low and almost soothing its depth.

Wait… what? She felt the confusion creep into her eyes as she searched his face, tensing her shoulders with unease.

He licked his lips before pressing the knife a bit further into her neck, nicking the skin. "I asked you a question. Are you ready to go?" He said it slowly this time, and she had the distinct impression that she didn't want to make him ask her again.

She bit her lip and nodded slowly up at him.

"If you behave, you can walk out beside me. If you try anything, I'll knock you out and keep you that way until we get there."

She exhaled through her nose, trying to calm her racing heart. It was nearly beating out of her chest, and she was almost certain he could actually hear it. She nodded once. She'd behave. For now.

He hummed as he took the knife away from her throat and reached down to pull the key to her chains out of his pocket. "Hold still," he mumbled as he started to unlock first her legs and then her hands.

The feeling of his warm palm cradling her calf gently was both totally surprising and completely unsettling. The heat from his hand burned straight through her jeans to warm her skin, and she had to fight back another shiver. She huffed in annoyance at herself. This time, she wasn't shivering from fear.

Onto the other leg, he once again burned into her leg while he cupped her calf and unlocked that ankle, gently stroking his thumb along the tear from where she'd been stabbed during one of the earlier torture rounds. She watched him with guarded eyes while he lifted up her foot to take a look at the wound, reaching out to graze his finger over the rough stitches they'd put in, before he gently set her foot back on the floor.

That same damn palm now came to rest on her right forearm while he unlocked her wrist, and she tried to snatch her hand back when the cool metal of his left hand gently took hold of her wrist and twisted it a bit to work the kinks out. He held on tighter, pulling on each of her fingers in turn until the joints popped at resettled.

Her eyes blazed up at him with confusion and bewilderment. What in the fucking hell was this?

When he unlocked her other wrist and did the same massaging motions, she couldn't entirely stifle the moan of pleasure at the pop as her wrist shifted back into place.

He chuckled, a sound so devilishly delicious it shot straight down her spine to pool low in between her thighs. He met her now-guarded gaze as he gently reached down to pull her to her feet. "I know a thing or two about the effects of being restrained," he said in response to the unanswered question shining in her eyes.

She snorted, pulling her hands out of his and gesturing for him to lead the way. As she started to follow him, her legs gave out from under her from lack of use. As she put her arms out to break her fall she was suddenly swept up into the arms of the man in front of her, who held her bridal style close to his chest. She struggled to get down but he only held her tighter as he started to walk from the room and down the cold corridor.

"Something you'd like to say?" He rumbled into her ear with amusement, carrying her like she weighed less than a feather as he made his way to the stairwell.

She huffed in annoyance. She hadn't spoken a word since they'd captured her, and she had no idea what the hell was going on so she was damned if she was going to start talking now.

He chuckled once again, the vibrations rocking into her side and sending goose bumps across her arms. "Didn't think so." Ugh, he was so smug about it to. He knew what she was doing, and for some reason was determined to tease her rather than get annoyed and beat her. How bizarre, and how unlike the behavior of all of her previous captors/torturers.

She sighed, resigning herself to just settling in comfortably while he carried her into an underground garage. Wait, they were really leaving?

"Just for a few days."

God damn it, could he read her mind?

"No, I'm just good at reading people."

She bit her tongue and forced herself not to snap at him before crossing her arms and leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Your chariot, m'lady," he said with amusement as he set her down on her feet next to a black sports car of some kind. The windows were tinted black, and there black accents and inside she saw black leather seats and detailing. He gestured in front of the open passenger door, and with as much dignity as she had left she slid into the passenger seat.

She whipped her head around but as soon as she started to reach for the keys he was sliding in on the drivers side and batting her hand away gently with a tsk. "Now now, doll, you said you'd behave."

"Actually, I haven't said a damn thing you arrogant asshole." Shit! Shit shit shit! Why the fuck couldn't she keep her mouth shut! She flushed crimson in the face of his wide eyed smirk and angrily flopped over to stare out the window as he fired up the engine and raced out of the garage.

He was pretty sure the voice of an angel sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to the voice of the woman sitting next to him. Even the tone of her voice conveyed all of his newly discovered favorite things about her. Her grace, her delicacy, her sex appeal, and the saucy little minx had the vocabulary of a sailor.

He smirked to himself as he drove down the deserted highway towards the cabin he was taking her to. This assignment was shaping up to be the best one he'd ever had. Hell, while he was unlocking her from her chair he was half-hard just from grazing his fingertips over her soft skin. He slid his eyes to watch her as she gazed out the window. Plus, she was fucking gorgeous. Long blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, eyes as deep as the ocean, pert little nose with high pink cheeks. She was a knockout, and had the balls of steel to match.

He found himself impressed with how she could keep calm under the torture she'd endured, never once breaking or giving an inch. She hadn't flinched when they'd beat her, stabbed her, screamed at her, threw shit at her. She hadn't flinched when he'd damn near choked her to death.

He smirked again. He'd cracked her just a bit though. He'd annoyed her, irritated her, gotten under her fair little skin. He could smell it the second her fear had shifted to arousal as he was stroking her leg, and damn him if he didn't want to just kiss her right there and then.

But what he had in mind took a little more finesse. Getting her into bed wasn't the end game, though he was most definitely looking forward to it. No, the point was getting her to fall for him too. Then she would spill all her dirty little secrets, and he could take her back and dump her with his handler for him to deal with.

Forty-seven hours. He chuckled with amusement. He'd probably only need the first two.