Liyah's breath hitched in her throat. The sandy desert stretched for miles and miles, without end. She looked at the two in front of her with an exasperated expression etched on her face, "Tell me this gets easier."
Rayan smirked, "Careful, habibti...
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chapter 8 | stealthy motions i the race back is more challenging than it seems
"I SWEAR TO GOD THAT I AM GOING TO CALL the embassy as soon as I find a telephone." She gritted her teeth as Rayan tugged on the slightly ripped cotton sleeves of her abaya.
The boy furrowed his eyebrow together, "If you haven't noticed already, Leyla, your friends have no authority in this corner of the desert. So yallah and stop complaining." He abruptly nudged his shoulder into hers when her movements began to slacken.
The three had been trekking endlessly on the sandy pathway, along the outskirts of Tarif City. The harsh, midday sun was beginning to set and Rayan could feel the anger bubbling within the pit of his chest. They were instructed to leave Tarif as soon as dawn broke, but the ajnabi had escaped their tight grasps and like a doe escaping the the fangs of predator, she sprinted as far as her legs could take her. The girl had attempted to flee from the princess and her royal guard thrice; Rayan was not going to make it a fourth.
"My teita is all alone thanks to you!" She growled as she twisted her sleeve back and forth to break free from his hold, "Either tell me where we're going or God so help me, I will rip this sleeve and run away again."
"Aywa, because we need you running away again." He rolled his eyes in annoyance and then purposefully scrunched the fabric tighter in his hands, "Listen carefully, Leyla. You are delaying our travels. We could've been out of the city before evening, but la, you decided to run back."
She laughed bitterly, "You're pulling my leg, right? I was just kidnapped andseparated from my only family here. I have every right to delay your travels." Liyah mocked his thick, Almasahri accent, "Where are you taking me?"
His transparent, blue eyes remained fixated on the stretch of sand in front of them,"Sooraya gave you a chance to find out the truth and you refused her. It's your own fault."
A shrill of pure rage escaped the young girl's lips. Aggravated by the words of the boy, Liyah kicked her foot against the sand grains. Tiny specks of the golden, caramel sand danced freely as the evening breeze carried it away. Like the skilled motion of a ghawazi, the sand circled around her ankles. The American girl longed for the freedom that those sand grains seemed to taunt her with. Frustrated, she snarled at the blue-eyed boy, "Kol khara!"
A soft hand fell on her shoulder, "ya habibti, maybe you need to relax your mind an–"
"I do not need advice from a living corpse right now–" and as soon as the words escaped her mouth, she flushed red. With her free hand, she brought it up her mouth and apologized profusely, "Y-your Highness, I didn't mean to– That's not. I–"
