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Days bled into nights of jolting transport and thirst. Elena was no longer a lecturer or a bride; she was a commodity, being moved across borders that didn't exist on any map. She was taken through the Tibesti Mountains, across the Red Sea, and finally into the shimmering heat of the Arabian Peninsula.

Their paths were converging. Thomas was tracking a ghost, and Elena was becoming a legend within the palace walls, orchestrating a plan that would either lead to her freedom or her end. Ebano.epub

Two trucks, modified with heavy machinery and filled with men in scarves, swerved to flank them. Thomas stepped on the gas, but the jeep was no match for the desert-tuned engines of the militia. A single shot rang out, shattering the side mirror. Days bled into nights of jolting transport and thirst

When the jeep finally skidded to a halt, the silence that followed was more terrifying than the gunfire. Thomas was dragged out and pinned to the ground. A man with eyes like polished flint stepped forward, ignoring the camera equipment and the money Thomas tried to offer. He looked only at Elena. Their paths were converging

Before Thomas could scream, they threw a black hood over Elena’s head. She felt herself being hoisted into the back of a truck. As the engine roared back to life, the last thing she heard was Thomas’s voice fading into the vast, indifferent wind of the Sahara.

Elena sighed, looking at her reflection in the glass. She was "Ebano"—ebony—a name her grandmother had given her, symbolizing strength and the deep, rich history of her ancestors. She had spent her life trying to bridge the gap between her heritage and her European education.

"We leave for the northern border at dawn," Thomas said, his voice tight. He was a journalist by trade, and despite Elena’s protests, he couldn't resist chasing a lead about a clandestine trade route moving through the desert.