Chapter 6

H'zim's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as if he'd run for miles. The darkness of the room seemed to swirl around him, a vortex of memories he'd rather forget. A battle on Vizal where he'd been trapped by enemy fire for three endless days. The damp, cold cell in Port Cantor, the stench of mold and despair clinging to him like a shroud, echoing his hopelessness. The moment when he'd realized Ayyla's betrayal.

There was a female beneath him, her eyes wide with fear, and he growled with satisfaction. He could make her pay at last. He pinned her down, his hands like vises on her arms. Ayyla's treacherous face hovered in front of him laughing as she walked away, leaving him in the grip of Port Cantor's law officers.

"No," he growled, his voice raw, as if the words had been torn from his throat.

But the body beneath his was lush and soft, not Ayyla's sleek frame, and the scent filling his head was light and sweet, not the heavy musk that Ayyla preferred. For a moment he didn't recognize the female, fury and panic still coursing through his veins, but Kara's face finally came into focus, her eyes wide and shocked. For a moment, he was disoriented, unsure where he was or how she'd gotten there. The farmhouse, yes, that was it. He'd found her here, and now she was staring at him as if he was some kind of monster.

His gaze raked her face, searching for… what? Deceit? Betrayal? He didn't know. All he knew was that he felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his past. As the fog in his mind finally lifted, he relaxed his grip, releasing her. She sat up, rubbing her arms, her eyes still wary.

"H'zim?" Her voice sounded shaky.

Guilt swept over him and he sat back, scrubbing his face with a calloused hand. Despite his guilt, the memory of Ayyla's treachery still lingered. He could hear the buzz of the market, smell the scent of spices and fried food, feel the grip of the officers' hands on his arms. His vision began to blur as the memories rushed over him again. The pain, the anger, the helplessness.

Ayyla's name echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his foolishness, his failure. No. Not again. He wouldn't fall for it again.

Suddenly, Kara's hands were on his face, her fingers tracing the lines of his scar. Her touch was gentle, but the impact of her touch rocketed through him, snapping him back to the present.

"H'zim," she whispered, her voice low and soothing. "It's okay. You're safe now."

Safe? He wasn't safe. He was trapped, forever trapped in this cycle of anger and shame, but Kara's touch helped bring him back to the present. When their eyes met, he didn't see fear or anger, he saw understanding. As if she knew that he hadn't been in control, that the nightmare had taken over, and that she was willing to weather the storm with him.

For a moment, they just sat there, the only sound the heavy breathing that still racked his chest. Without thinking, he reached out and touched her face the way she'd touched his, his thumbs tracing the smooth freckled curves of her cheeks. Her eyes never left his, calm and… accepting. Why was there so much comfort in that?

Unable to find the words, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers. He intended it as no more than a brief touch, a thank you for her understanding. But as their lips touched, something within him sparked to life. Desire flared in his stomach, low and hot, his body hardening in response.

He deepened the kiss, taking possession of her mouth and claiming her with fierce hunger. He savored the honey of her lips and she trembled against him, but her lips parted willingly, inviting more. He could lose himself in the softness of her body, the sweetness of her kiss…

No.An alarm sounded in his head and he jerked back. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim room, her lips damp and swollen. The urge to reach for her again almost overwhelmed him but he couldn't let his guard down, not now, not ever.

Especially not with a female. The memory of Ayyla's treachery still festered in his mind. He couldn't trust Kara, no matter how gentle her touch or how comforting her presence. He couldn't allow himself to trust her.

He rose quickly to his feet, his fingers curling into fists as he took a step away from the bed. His breathing was ragged again, his chest heaving with the effort of containing his emotions. He couldn't let this happen. He had to stay focused, had to keep his eyes on the prize – revenge.

"You take the bed," he growled, his voice rougher than he intended. He didn't look at Kara, couldn't bear to see confusion or hurt in her eyes. "I'll sleep outside."

Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room and out of the house into the darkness of the night. He didn't stop until he reached the barn, his feet carrying him on autopilot as his mind replayed the kiss, the touch, the feeling of comfort that had almost undone him.

He leaned against the open doorframe, his eyes fixed on the stars above as he tried to calm his breathing. His heart was still racing with a confusing mixture of fear and desire. He couldn't let it happen again - he wouldn't let it happen again. Revenge was his only goal, and he would see it through, no matter what.

Although his heart rate and his breathing eventually quieted, he knew that sleep was not an option. Instead he prowled the farm's perimeter. At first he strode rapidly, as if he could outrun the memories that haunted him. But as the night wore on, the silence of the countryside began to seep into his bones, calming the turmoil inside him. Although he couldn't entirely shake off the feeling of vulnerability that had crept up on him with Kara's touch, his mind cleared enough for him to consider the future - not only his future but hers.

By the time the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he'd reached a decision. He would stay long enough to get the farm started again, to ensure she had a chance to build a life here. It might delay his plans a little but they had waited this long - they could wait a little longer.

As the sun rose higher, casting a golden glow over the neglected fields, he started cataloging the tasks that needed to be done. Most of it could be accomplished with nothing more than hard work, but he might need to make a trip to town for additional supplies as well.

Nodding decisively, he strode back to the farmhouse, his footsteps quiet on the dewy grass. He'd get the farm in order, and then he'd leave, leaving Kara to her new life. The thought should have brought him solace, but instead, a pang of something he couldn't quite identify echoed through his chest.

The feeling only intensified when he pushed open the door and saw her standing by the stove again, preparing food. She looked up when he entered and smiled cheerfully.

"Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready."

Her composure took him aback, as did the warmth in her eyes. Why was she not outraged at his sudden departure the previous night? Why wasn't she demanding answers and apologies?

His throat constricted as he nodded, trying to clear the lump that had formed.

"Thanks. I'll wash up."

He strode to the sink, his movements mechanical as he scrubbed his hands and face. The cool water helped clear his head, reminding him of the path he'd chosen. He couldn't afford to get tangled up in emotions, not now, not ever. He had a job to do – get the farm running, and then leave.

"I used some more of your supplies," she said as she came to join him at the table. "Are you going to be upset about it?"

"No. I was just… annoyed yesterday. It would be foolish not to use them."

"Good."

When she smiled and slid a plate in front of him, his stomach growled in anticipation, but his heart ached with a different kind of hunger. He wished…he wished he could have this life, this sense of belonging, with Kara by his side.

But wishes were for the weak. Get the farm running, and then leave. That was his mantra now. Leave, before he got too comfortable. Before he got too attached. He ignored the uneasy suspicion that it was already too late.