Sleep was not coming easy for the two girls. Shahrazad had been bombarded with embraces and concern, whereas Nazli had only heard words of worry from either Shahrazad or her baby cousin, Feriha. What she hadn't expected was for Hamza - her fellow aged tribal member to ask for her health. She never expected it and it had shown on her face.

"Why was Hamza speaking to you?" Shahrazad inquired suspiciously, her blue eyes narrowed in the dimness of their tiny room. At her question, Nazli's heart sped up with great trepidation. Hamza was no ordinary tribesman - his father was the vizier to Shahrazad's father, Shah Zaman. Not to mention Palwasha had shown interest in him several times and it would do her no good if rumors were to fly around.

She said nothing, only turned on her side away from Shahrazad and her futile talk. Today had been a frightening day for her - she could still feel that monster's hands on her body and the cold of his pistol on her temple. He had said he would be back and perhaps this was the reason why she and Shahrazad were still awake.

"Nazli, I always thought Hamza liked you!" Nazli internally groaned. Thank Allah, she and Shahrazad had a room to themselves. "You should see the way he stares at you whenever you and I-!"

A pillow slapped Shahrazad on the face and she looked up to see piercing green eyes glaring at her from the other end. She giggled rebelliously, having recovered from the incident that had occurred in the afternoon.

"Yaar chill! (Friend, relax!)" She said, like the girls in the TV dramas would. Oh, how she longed to be in another city - to go to university like other girls her age and to discover herself. She wouldn't even mind if she still had to marry a smelly boy from this village - if only she could be free.

Besides city men seemed like assholes, Shahrazad thought, touching the slight cut on her slender neck. The truth was he had barely pressed the knife to her throat, but she had struggled wildly and that was when she had been cut. Baba had thrown a big fuss about it, but Shahrazad was proud. She had fought valiantly and the proof was the scratches on the bastard's hands. He would never mess with her again.

"I can't sleep, Nazli!" Shahrazad moaned, turning to the window and gazing at the starry night sky. One of her uncles said that the stars could not be seen in the city - instead, tall buildings were everywhere. "Do you think they will come again tomorrow?"

Most definitely, Nazli thought, nodding her head firmly. The question wasn't if they will come, but when they will come. And were they even prepared? Plus, what did those city men want from a tribe that had never even interacted with many past the valley?

"I sneaked into the loya jirga (grand council meeting) today, you know." At her words, Nazli's mouth dropped with shock. Shahrazad was certainly impulsive and rebellious but to disregard the traditions and rules of the tribe?

"Can you blame me, Naz? They won't tell us anything!" Nazli was frustrated by their silence too, but she trusted her sarbarah (leader) completely. But the dark power and fierceness she had felt from those men had shaken her. Those eyes - bottomless and promising in their vengeance threatened to destroy everything and everyone Nazli called home. If only he would change his mind and leave them in peace.

"Baba was being accused by everyone!" There was a hint of sadness in her cousin's voice. "They said he had lied - that he had hidden the truth from them! But I still never got to find out why those men are after us in the first place!"

Sleep was not coming easy tonight, Nazli decided, laying on her back. She hated those men - that man who had manhandled her. Buried memories from the past had emerged in her mind from his touch - the harshness and the strength of it throwing her back into her tragic past. Shahrazad had been quick to brush it off - Nazli could not.

Hours had passed and crickets and Shahrazad's snores filled the empty silence. Nazli lay awake - her green eyes strained in the room from a desperate need to sleep, but her racing heart did not allow it. Finally, just when she could not resist any longer - a gunshot resounded from outside.

Shahrazad jerked awake just as Nazli rushed to the opposite window. "Wah? Abb k-kya huwa hai? (What happened now?)"

Lights had lit up in the neighboring houses, but Nazli could not spot anyone in the vast green land upon which they had foldings with sheep mulling about. Their training grounds where swords and rifles were displayed in full view were scattered on the ground as if a tornado had swept through.

Nazli was just stepping away from the window, too tired to confirm what she had heard was real when several gunshots occurred in the opposite direction. This time, Shahrazad beat her to the window, and the constricted gasp that escaped her set Nazli's nerves alight.

"T-The horses . . ." She whispered, her eyes stormy with waves of terror. Nazli shared the sentiment, almost losing the power to stand when she saw bloodied bodies of their warhorses and ponies littered on the ground. A massacre of their most prized possessions.

"HAMZA!" One of the men cried rifles in tow with two other men. Nazli slinked back from the window when the boy in question emerged - his eyes meeting hers just for a second.

Shahrazad, however, called out to him before he could join the men. "Hamza Bhai (Brother), what is going on?"

He swept a hand through his wild blonde locks that were standing upright from slumber. "An attack, Shahrazad. Stay inside and shutter your windows."

"Like hell, I will!" She hissed, grabbing her own pistol and moving to the door. Nazli tugged at her arm, but the girl expertly dodged her clutches and met the boy by the door. Then she turned to her cousin grimly and repeated the same instructions. "Nazli, stay inside and shutter the windows."

With those final words, she was gone. Nazli lingered by the window for another hour, praying and beseeching to Allah to keep everyone safe. To keep her impulsive and silly cousin safe! She had no one in this world who loved her like Shahrazad and she could not lose her.

When the door opened finally, Nazli was rushing to it. But the sight of a tall man cloaked head to toe in black leather made her heart slam against her ribs painfully. This could not be happening. He could not be here - not in her room!

Equally startled black eyes met her green before he reached forward and slapped a hand on her agape mouth. "Not one word, sweetheart!" But she bit into his hand and then slammed her hands on his chest and arms.

He hissed in pain - his depthless eyes furious with murder. Before she could retreat from him, he had raised his hand and smacked her hard. And when she went crashing to the ground, he smirked with satisfaction. All it took was a bit of force to put a woman to her place, he thought.

And the last thing Nazli remembered was the sight of large hands reaching for her face . . .

*** *** ***

"If that bitch acts up again, I am going to smack her!" Fahad growled for the umpteenth time, rubbing antiseptic cream into his hands. As soon as the sun had come up, Asadullah had burst into his room and made him get ready. He was not a morning person like his Asadullah and his brother and right now, he was in no mood for taking hikes or pissing off crazy mountain men.

Imad lifted his binoculars to his face. "Let's hope that they will be more reasonable today."

Asadullah nodded, eerily quiet, and deeply focused. "They better be." He was not in a merciful mood today. Khalid's arrival had pissed him off and last night his father had called. He was not impressed by Asadullah's actions but did not take away the mission he had been sent here for.

"Wait!" Imad said, his deep baritone voice echoing in the sunkissed hills. "They are waiting for us. Guns and rifles in hand." No sooner had he said that, that Fahad was snatching the binoculars. He barely got a second to look before Asadullah did the same.

"Fuuuck, man! Those are a lot of angry bumpkins!" He whistled, the sadistic smile enlightening his lips. "As much as I would love to go in there - guns blazing and sending these papis to hell, we have to admit this time we are madly outnumbered, bro."

"Don't be a pussy." Asadullah growled, chucking the binoculars back at Imad and pulling his own submachine rifle out. He had enough rounds to take down this entire village three times, but he sincerely wished he didn't have to use it. Something about this place was alluring and he did not want to stain its beauty with blood.

The pillar of their small trio spoke, his brown eyes catching the light and shimmering with unsaid concern. "Asad. This is unlikely to work. The odds are against us."

"Imad, does it look like I have a fucking choice?" He slapped in a magazine, ignoring the blood that was racing in his veins. This was not his way - he wasn't a butcher like his father or Khalid. No, he always did the absolutely necessary and not the slightest bit more. But right now, he was left with no choice - he had offered them an olive branch and they had declared war on him. Well, fuck them.

"Man, Asad, your father's fucked you over with this one, you know," Fahad muttered, all traces of slumber gone from his body. "Why not let your asshole brother deal with this? Maybe they can get rid of him for good!"

What a ridiculous proposition. Let Khalid deal with the bumpkins so that his father could make him the heir to the Black Panther Mafias. Yeah - over his dead fucking body.

"No." He snapped, restraining his urge to unleash his fury upon his companions. "This is not up for discussion. We go and deal with them ourselves. If they shoot, we shoot. And if any of you feel scared, then go and look for your missing balls."

They let out a synchronized snort at his words before pulling open their own SMG's and replacing old magazines with new shiny ones. Asadullah was quite levelheaded so it was a surprise that he was about to embark upon the most reckless endeavor of his life. Not that they cared - Fahad and Imad owed their life to this man and they would follow him to hell if he so wished.

"No need for that insanity, Bhai!" The joyfully light voice called out from behind them and Asadullah groaned. Why was Allah trying his patience? May endless misfortunes fall upon Baba for siring this asshole, Asadullah thought with a sincere prayer.

But all thoughts of putting bullets in Khalid's head disappeared when he turned to face him. A girl - blonde with streaks of dark brown sat at his feet. A large handprint on her rosy cheek glared at him from underneath her curls and he only needed to scan her eyes to know who she was.

"Khalid." He stepped forward, his voice deathly calm. "What the fuck have you done?"