— It’s only a contract marriage, Sybil. I’m not even going to sleep with her, — Karim snapped irritably.
— But you said yourself that for power over their lands you need an heir from her… — the girl almost cried, struggling against his hands.
— Don’t be jealous of that black rag. I haven’t even seen her face without a niqab. This damn wedding to Zoroh’s girl won’t change anything. She’s my woman, — he pinned her to the table and bent her down.
I swallowed and stepped into the tent.
— What are you doing here?! — he threw it out contemptuously, between clenched teeth, and continued to drive himself into his lover, Karim, — The wedding is only tomorrow.
— I need to talk… — my voice trembled treacherously.
Tomorrow I’ll be the wife of a cruel Syrian who brought my people to their knees—but he won’t make me… I’ll burn your soul, Karim Uweydat…
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This story is a little more than just a love romance or a philosophical parable. A look at modern times from the outside. Going back to your roots, searching for the primal “self.” Read it—and heal.
— The world of “The Possessed Heirs”
— That very Karim Uweydat
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Modern East
Real traditions
A pinch of mysticism and legends