The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 151

A broad smile stretched across my lips as I caught sight of a man rushing toward me.

He wore a crisp white shirt, the top buttons casually undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong, pale forearms. Perched on his prominent nose were gold-rimmed glasses, while beads of sweat dotted his forehead, evidence that he had run all the way here without pause.

“Horace!” I called out, my voice filled with relief so overwhelming it almost brought tears to my eyes. I took a step forward eagerly, but a firm hand gripped my arm, halting me in place.

I shot a sharp look at Steven. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

His handsome face had lost its color, turning pale, and his eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity. Ignoring my protests, he tightened his hold and pulled me close, pressing me firmly against his chest. My startled cry was swallowed by his unwavering gaze, locked onto Horace with the cold focus of a predator.

Horace reached us quickly, his usual calm and gentle expression replaced by a storm of anger.

His eyes immediately searched mine, filled with worry. “Zephyra, how’s your face? What did the doctor say? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I tried to wriggle free from Steven’s grip, but he held me firmly. “I’m fine. Just a slap, nothing serious. They put some ointment on it, and the pain’s gone. I just need a few more tests before I can leave.”

Horace didn’t look convinced. His brow furrowed deeply. “How did this happen? Who did this to you? Weren’t you here for work?”

Suddenly, his gaze shifted sharply to Steven, his expression darkening with suspicion and fury.

“You actually dared to lay a hand on Zephyra?”

His voice was icy and low, dripping with menace. If Steven had admitted to it, Horace would have dropped his scholarly façade in an instant and thrown a punch—just like in the life we once lived.

Steven met his glare with one of his own, sharp and dismissive. “Are you blind or just stupid? She’s my woman. If I’m going to discipline her, it’ll be behind closed doors, not by touching her face.”

I winced inwardly at the way he said it. Why did he have to make it sound like that?

I felt drained, unable to bear their posturing any longer. Steven deserved every bit of the criticism, no doubt.

With one last struggle, my patience snapped. “Steven, I’m telling you for the last time—let go. My head is pounding. I just want to finish these tests and get some sleep. If you want to see Verna, then go ahead. I’m not stopping you anymore. Just stop being so damn annoying.”

Steven’s handsome face darkened, his jaw clenched tight like a thundercloud ready to burst.

Perhaps sensing my resolve, he finally released me. He pressed a hotel key card and a bank card into my palm.

“The PIN’s the one you always use. Let me know what the hospital report says. Call me when you get back to the hotel. Wait for me there. We need to talk.”

I didn’t hesitate to take the cards. At this point, I considered the bank card payment a small compensation for my troubles—it would be foolish not to accept it. After all, this was practically a workplace injury.

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