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When Shahbaz learnt about the entire situation, he was ready to kill Bahman. How one man could defeat two men at the same time and also manage to get away under the experienced assassins' and guards' noses No one had been able to locate him till now, and he was on the verge of going insane. 

The terror was visible on his men's faces. Many groups were deployed in every direction in search of Oman.

Shahbaz had taken matters into his own hands. Vengeance was boiling inside him. He wanted Oman's blood. He wanted to bring him down to his knees and show the world what kind of pussycat he was the whole time.

Oman had stolen everything from him. Every opportunity, and his beloved one, Humaira.

His one true love.

He didn't know how or why, but he blamed him. From the start, he wanted Humaira, but Oman snatched her away. Every time he saw them together, a burning sensation of envy erupted inside of him. He started getting jealous of his fortune, his luck, his everything.

He will make him pay for his sins. The sin of destroying the life of Humaira That girl was in love with Oman. In return, he had broken her completely. 

Because of him, she was dead. Shahbaz intended to give him a torturous death. 

No matter how many more days Oman would run, he would follow him till eternity. There will be a fortunate day when he will capture him, and Shahbaz desperately waited for that day. 

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Luckily, Oman came across a merchant who was willing to swap his camel for the powerful horse they have.

The minute Tara saw the new camel, she liked him so much that with her own hands, she fed him the twigs of shrubs.

She even gave him a name, Bassi. Oman found it really cute, but watching her feed the camel ignited his jealousy. He was going nuts—who would be jealous of an animal? But here he was, watching his wife giving attention to just a mere camel.

He was grumpy the whole time. But tara didn't care at all.  She was adjusting to his bipolar behaviour.

After two days of travelling, they entered a part of the desert that was much rougher underfoot than Oman had anticipated—not really sand at all, more like hard dried mud covered with rock and dust, and it wasn’t flat either.

The past two days have appeared to be really tiring for Oman. The reason was Tara. She was making things difficult for him.

She'd never lose a chance to touch him. Most of the time, Tara would be clung to his neck, and sometimes it was hard for him to ask her not to do that.

But she never listened. It was as if her back somehow belonged somehow in that space against his chest; the ride became so smooth and comfortable for her. Her body and his had somehow grown into one being.

But Oman, on the other hand, was wholly unused to the position in which he now found himself—torn between the desire to quench his thirst and the equally strong desire to make proper love to Tara.

He broke several boundaries between them, but he didn't want to hurt her physically, so he was trying to get his act together.

To divert his mind. He told her about his birthplace, Balyrma. He became so engrossed and passionate when talking of his beloved city and its people, of their ancient traditions and its sometimes violent history, that they barely noticed the miles being eaten up. He even made her laugh with wild funny tales.

Thankfully, she listened very attentively. This also allowed him to create a distance between them.

His mind wandered to his past memories. The death of his mother by a bandit forced him to be a soldier so that he could get back at him, which he did. He killed that bandit in the worst way possible, by slitting his throat and waited for the last drop of blood to drain out of his body.

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