From Rejected Luna To Lycan Queen (Eloise and Edward) novel Chapter 360

Chapter 360 Who’s He?

ZARA.

+20 Free Coms

It was a slow Monday night at Ray’s. Which only gave me more time to be alone with my chaotic thoughts.

Why hadn’t I seen Hades since group therapy? Or any of the guys, really. Tomorrow would make a ful week since I stormed out of that warehouse, and nothing.

He’d called me his, for fuck’s sake. Like a damn caveman.

Or an animal.

used in

I huffed under my breath. That was some dark romance bullshit right there. The kind of line men books to sound possessive and dangerous, right before the heroine either ran screaming or fell into bed with them. Usually both.

Real life didn’t work like that.

Did it?

I shook my head and kept scrubbing. Still, it was weird how the word had stuck with me. Weirder still that he hadn’t come back to try and claim me. He knew where I worked. And Dorian had my number. But they had just stayed away.

Why?

I desperately wanted to see them but the only place of reference I had to go was that creepy as hell warehouse. And I definitely wasn’t going back there. I could contact Dorian, demand answers. But that would mean letting myself be vulnerable.

Again. I’d done that enough with Harlow thank you very much. I growled in frustration.

How could I have let him in like that?

I had almost felt like he used some kind of mind control on me. I snorted.

Be real Zara. You were dick–matized not hypnotized.

Who the fuck holds group therapy in a warehouse, anyway?

My scatter–brain bouncing back and forth between all four men was a mind fuck. Exhausting. Overwhelming. My thoughts landed on the sexy blond and glasses.

Dr. Dorian Voss.

There was no way he was a real therapist. Though I wasn’t about to analyze his motivations for pretending to be one right now, or how the hell he’d gotten my number in the first place. I’d gone over it a thousand times and still had no answer.

Without calling him on his shit, I probably never would. Which just pissed me off more. I was tempted to

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Chapter 360 Who’s He?

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text him. He’d told me to save his number after all. But some part of me felt that he would be brutally honest with me if I asked for the truth, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear him out yet.

I scrubbed the bar top harder.

Maybe I needed to go to the address Bloom gave me. Or confirm the doctor’s name he recommended to. me. At least I would know for sure if he was who he claimed to be.

No, it wasn’t necessary. I already knew the answer.

It was obvious, wasn’t it? God, I should be happy they’d all left me alone. That was the smart reaction. Thehealthy one. There was too much shit wrapped up in them. Too many unanswered questions, and moments I couldn’t explain without sounding unhinged.

So why did being away from them feel like withdrawal?

Like something had been yanked out of my system cold turkey, leaving me jittery and off–balance and reaching for something I knew I shouldn’t want. This was why I needed therapy. Somewhere along the way, my brain had rewired itself to crave the wrong things. Dangerous men who didn’t play by normal rules. Men who made my pulse spike and my thoughts blur.

My survival instincts were a little fucked.

I scrubbed harder, jaw tight, annoyed at myself for even thinking about them. Wanting dangerous men wasn’t new. It was a bad habit I couldn’t seem to kick, no matter how many times it burned me.

“You okay, Zara?” Beth asked, her gaze flicking down to the rag in my hand. “You’ve been scrubbing that spot for, like, ten minutes. Is something on your mind? Wanna talk about it?”

I blew out a breath, a loose strand of hair fluttering across my cheek. It was right there, on the tip of my tongue, to tell her everything about group therapy, the warehouse, the men who had taken up permanent residence in my head.

But if I opened that can of worms, she’d ask questions. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear myself answer them out loud. For starters, wanting four men wasn’t normal.

Beth studied me for another second, then smiled like she knew better than to push. She reached for a couple of shot glasses, grabbed Ray’s favorite vodka from beneath the bar, poured us each a shot, and slid

one my way.

I lifted a brow. “Ray won’t like us drinking on the clock.”

“Ray’s doing inventory in the back. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She lifted her glass. “Come on. Live a little. I’ve had a shitty week and could use the distraction. And by the looks of it so can you.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Alright, fine.” I tossed the rag onto the bar top and took the glass. “What are we cheersing to?”

She ulted her head, actually thinking.

To surviving another week of hell and still standing strong.”

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