The long overgrown nettle leaves poked her bare feet as she ran through the forest. Her home - so close yet so far glimmered in the darkness far off yonder past the valley. She only needed a small burst of adrenaline and she would cross into her home.

Behind her, someone roared and simultaneously fired a shot in the vastness of the pasture. She didn't dare turn around - frightened that she would come across the empty black eyes that threatened to destroy her completely. Instead, she searched wide and hard - her path suddenly becoming foreign to her - rocks that were too high to scale.

And then, warm brown eyes silently stared at her - a hand outstretched and a smile so subtle that she almost missed it in the darkness. Her heart - although racing like a mad horse calmed the second her hand met his. He was different - her savior among all those savages that wanted to ruin her.

She was in his arms suddenly and the small flickering lights over his shoulder looked so inviting. He had saved her from the monster and she was grateful, she thought - her lips stretching wide in a smile so foreign to her. But suddenly as she met eyes with him - she detected only hostility. The hands that held her close suddenly dug into her waist before he pushed her backwards.

Her mouth opened in a scream - a hand still foolishly outstretched towards him in futile hope that he would save her. Instead, the only one who saved her or rather captured her was the same monster with eyes as black as the night. "You can never escape." He whispered, before cold metal touched her temple.

The only thing that remained was the gruesome sight of brains and blood staining the once evergreen valley . . .

Nazli jerked awake - her heart in her throat at the nightmare she had encountered. Tears leaked out involuntarily and she desperately wished she could scream. Maybe that would ease the turbulent storm that rippled within her. But instead, a glass of water hung in front of her and she jumped back into the headboard of the bed.

Imad had barely had a wink of sleep in the last 24 hours. The night before he had spent long hours planning all possibilities of negotiation with the villagers. Asadullah had stayed up with him - meticulously analyzing every detail of their plan. But that had all gone south the minute Khalid had entered the picture. And now, just when he had gotten Fahad off his back, he had awakened to small broken screams. If it hadn't been for his light sleep and sharp hearing, he would have missed it.

"You will drink." He commanded, shaking his hand slightly in front of her. She merely looked back at him as if he was a two-headed monster or Asadullah himself. Building trust with her was as difficult as making sense of Asadullah's thoughts. He wondered how she would feel if he told her that she and the one she was so frightened of had great similarities.

"You will drink this by my hand or Asadullah's." He warned, ignoring the pang of discomfort that shot up his spine at the look of betrayal in her eyes. Still, she took his threat to heart when she gulped down the glass of water.

Why wasn't he leaving, he questioned himself as he took a seat on a chair discarded by the side of the bed. The girl had the same question lingering in her eyes - her shifting ever so slightly and consistently towards the other end of the bed. But Imad had a question of his own - one he intended to get an answer for from her.

"Are you pretending?" He hadn't realised how harsh his voice sounded in the quiet room until her eyes widened in shock. "This whole act of being a mute because you don't want to answer Asadullah's questions? Is that right?"

If she was lying, then she was a bloody good one, Imad admitted to himself. He was keen and observant - always looking for cracks in the faces of Asadullah's enemies, but this girl barely hid any emotions so he was not sure what to look for in the first place. She wore her emotions as plain as day and he would be a fool to expect anything more from a villager girl.

"So you are mute then?" She nodded cautiously. "Yet you scream in your sleep?"

Scream in her sleep? Nazli was sure he was lying - she had slept in the same room as Shahrazad all her life and never had they had such an incident. Why kind of a new trap was he trying to lay against her?

"Fine." Imad sighed, having received an answer to his question. She was a partial mute - most likely due to a trauma in her past. It wasn't his business to delve into her problems and already he had been thinking too much about her. His mind travelled back to a few hours ago when he had laid awake beside his snoring brother trying to catch some of the few hours left for sleep, but only seeing haunted green eyes overtaking his vision.

She was bad news, he thought, silently leaving her room without a word. And just before he crept up to the stairs, his observant gaze fell upon his leader. He lay on the living room sofa - his eyes staring up to the ceiling in deep thought and a pistol spinning on his index finger.

Perhaps she was bad news for someone else too.

***

Morning had come and Nazli found herself sitting on the huge dining table. In front of her on the other end sat Asadullah - his black gaze unwaveringly fixed upon her since Fahad had dragged to the table. While she was glad about the distance between them, she did not like the predatory aura he was emanating.

Fahad sat directly beside her on her left while Imad had chosen to sit beside Asadullah on his right side. Of course, she thought bitterly pulling at the white cloth that concealed her legs. Of course, he would want to sit right in that monster's bosom because he was just like him. And here she had thought he was different.

"Wah's wro?" Fahad asked her with a mouthful. She stared back confused and then he gulped down the strange-looking omelet he had been eating. "Your plate is empty, Naz! Don't be like that, babe!" Naz? Babe? Her disgust must have been visble because she heard a throaty chuckle from the other end of the table. She didn't dare look over to see who it was in case she met eyes with him.

"Oh man! Your glass is empty too!" He turned to the waiter who stood trembling behind her. "Dude, bring your finest drink for my girl here! Look at her - she is pale like a ghost!"

Yes, because I am sick of all of you. I want to go home. I don't want to eat your strange looking food. Oh Allah, forgive me for being ungrateful.

The waiter came trudging up behind her - a strange bottle held in his hands over a tablecloth. Nazli watched with curious eyes as he replaced her glass with a small cup looking chalice she had seen in a movie. Then, he poured a red liquid into the cup and stood back again.

She felt the entire audience was upon her as she stared at the drink mystified. Fahad leaned forward excitedly. "Go on. You know this is one of the most delicious and cultured wine-!"

Her head snapped in outrage towards him. He was offering her wine? How dare he? How dare he offer her this disgusting poison? He carried on speaking oblivious to the beast that ravaged within her. With sweaty fists tightened on her legs and narrowed eyes, she suddenly had an urge to upturn this table on this man's head. Finally, her patience wore thin when he happily lifted the chalice to her face.

"Now you understand the importance of this Italian wine! I went all the way to the vineyard-!" It was just a small smack of a hand, but Nazli was proud when the chalice went hurtling from his hand away from her. She was proud of her strength and did not lose it when he stood up with an unusual fury within him.

"Alright, you bitch! You keep this up any longer and I'll rip you apart before I let anyone else do the honors!" He snarled, as he fisted his hand in her loose golden hair and pulled her towards him. She pounded on his chest, her face pinched with pain as he mercilessly tightened his fist around her hair. "You think we are soft just because we saved your ass from Khalid?"

As soon as the ordeal had started, it was over for her. The pressure from her scalp was gone and she was being pulled into warm arms. Her previous reservations and anger she had held for Imad were now replaced with gratitude. Even if his loyalty lay with him, he would always come to her rescue. And just for that, she could allow herself to like him a little.

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?" A chill swept from her toes to her head at the voice that spoke from above her. An arm tightened around her and suddenly the warm embrace felt like the vices of a demon. And for the first time in a long time, she allowed her eyes to trace his face.

Angular face - sharp cheekbones. His lips were thinned into an angry grimace and his nose was high like an aristocrat's. When he spoke, she would feel a rumble from his chest - as if he was restraining himself from lashing out. That was how he always spoke and perhaps this was the reason why he was so frightening. And those eyes - black abysses of doom were not on her, but on her assailant. And between this small distance that separated them, Nazli couldn't rip her eyes from him. Not because she was smitten with him like Shahrazad would say, but because he was so similar to the man who had destroyed her entire life . . .

"You're too fucking soft with her, Asad!" She watched him move towards her again, anger that was stoked by Asadullah's presence. Before he managed to grab her again, her savior was shoving him away with his arm.

"Enough now. Don't try anymore - it will be the end of you." He hissed and she shifted with terror again at the peril in his voice. Her legs begged her to move - to separate herself from the uncomfortable clutches of this man, but her mind urged her to stay. He was angry - furious even and he would not show her clemency if she decided to be impulsive again.

Fahad snorted, snatching the bottle from the waiter's hand and downing it completely. "Fucking delicious! This is the drink you wasted, you stupid girl!" Then he walked dazed towards the living room before collapsing on the sofa like a deadweight.

Breath whooshed out from her softly. She hadn't realised how tense she was until he was moving away - the strange coldness seeping into her from the absence of his hold. He looked at her blankly before hesitantly lifting a hand towards her. It was involuntary, but she flinched - her eyes narrowing for the upcoming attack.

If she had met eyes with him in that instant, she would have seen the pang of regret overtake his gaze. But never had she expected his touch to be so gentle on her upright strands of hair. He smoothed the shiny locks thoughtfully, before walking away leaving a whisper of final words. "We leave in an hour."

When she turned to face the third person in the room - the person whom she had placed high hopes upon was also gone. And it was shocking for her to realise that for the first time she had been alone with him. And he had not harmed her like the man whom she often found herself comparing him to . . .