Читать книгу The Last Prince of Dahaar - Tara Pammi - Страница 2

Zohra’s heart thudded hard against her ribcage. Her chest was incredibly tight.

Across the vast hall her gaze met Prince Ayaan’s. And held it.

She had expected him to be just as isolated from her as he had been through the parade. And yet she could swear he was tuned to her every step, every breath, as if they were the only two people in the huge hall.

Her nerves stretched tight at the intensity of that gaze. It burned hot, alive, intense, and she realized she was the cause of it. That awareness between them—it had a life of its own.

Was he anchoring her or was she anchoring him to a path neither wanted to go on?

Sucking in a breath, she severed the connection and focused on something beyond his shoulder. An uncontrollable shaking took root in her.

She did not need his strength—imagined or real—and nor did he need hers.

The setting of the wedding, the festivities and joy around her—it was all getting to her.

“This marriage will be whatever you make of it.”

Zohra intended to set the tone for it from the beginning. And that meant remembering that she and the Prince were nothing but strangers brought together by duty.