My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 134

Chapter 134 Dangerous Choices

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Benedict tightened his grip around Fiona’s wrist as the warning echoed in his ears. Irritation sharpened inside him; his fingers pressed until a crimson band bloomed. She winced but stayed silent. When he let go, the tender skin burned the color of bruised roses.

Benedict released a single, frost–thin word. “Fine.”

Soren’s eyes remained placid, revealing nothing.

Across the table, Cecilia worried the edge of her sleeve, concern flickering over her face.

The pair settled onto the low benches, lantern glow throwing twin shadows against the canvas wall.

Camp liquor was raw, throat–scorching. After only half a rough–hewn bowl, heat crawled up Fiona’s cheeks, and her gaze turned softly unfocused.

Through the haze, she saw Prince Jinks trade a knowing look with Benedict. Why would Benedict raise the matter of a sham betrothal at such a convenient hour?

Benedict’s stare locked on Fiona, then cut to Soren. Without blinking, he tipped back a green pellet. A heartbeat later, he slid an identical pill between Fiona’s parted lips, chasing it with a splash of wine. His smile at Soren was ice–cold—a silent dare.

Soren’s expression did not flicker, yet the air around him seemed to drop a degree.

Cecilia watched Fiona’s flush deepen and bit down on her rising worry.

Benedict rose. “Carry on,” he said to the others at the table. “Fiona is tipsy. I’ll see her to rest.” He scooped her into his arms. Already the drug’s wildfire licked at his veins, loosening restraint, sharpening desire. The concoction spared no gender; once swallowed, it cared only for the act itself.

Two drug–laced bodies, one closed tent–would Soren sit back and watch?

Cecilia sprang up, cast Soren a pleading glance, and followed. Guards crossed their spears, halting her beneath the tent–flap.

Soren remained seated, composed as marble. Not even his brow twitched, yet in his eyes a glimmer of ice took hold.

“The medicine should bloom in about fifteen minutes,” Prince Jinks said, smiling slyly and unreadably. “If Lord Soren truly feels nothing, I’ll gladly welcome Fiona as my

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Chapter 134 Dangerous Choices

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granddaughter–in–law. It would bind our families tighter. As for Ben’s temper, I can hold it in check–while I still draw breath.”

Unspoken lingered the rest: once he was gone, promises would scatter like ash.

The words were a gauntlet flung at Soren’s feet; for the moment, he still had time to spirit Fiona away.

Princess Helen had wagered the entirety of Fiona’s future on the hope that Soren’s conscience would not allow him to sit idle.

His answer was colder than a northern wind. “Whatever happens to her is none of my concern.”

Prince Jinks regarded Soren, his voice slow and deliberate. “Princess Helen has never shied from paying her losses. If that is truly what you believe, Lord Soren, you are free to go.”

Soren turned on his heel and strode toward the camp gate, pretending he had heard nothing.

Footsteps approached from behind; Cecilia glanced back, catching the storm banked across his face and the brief falter in his stride.

From within the command tent, a soft voice floated out, barely louder than a sigh. “Hubby.”

The single word hit him like an arrow to the heel; Soren stopped, breath held, muscles locked mid–step.

That night, Fiona slipped into a dream.

She found herself again in the bridal chamber of the previous life, sitting alone beneath crimson lanterns while the wedding guests roared somewhere far away. The door opened; Soren entered, lifted the scarlet veil, then, with practiced tenderness, loosened each ivory button until the robe spilled like water, laying her upon the down–soft bed.

His breath, rough and urgent, burned against her skin, leaving her cheeks aflame.

Yet, suddenly, the face above her shifted; Soren’s sharp angles melted into Xavier’s familiar features, his brow knit with sorrow, eyes heavy with unspoken ache.

“Mr. Xavier?” she gasped, voice trembling into something so sweetly illicit it shamed her even

in the dream.

The man’s body froze; whatever flush had painted his ears vanished, replaced by cold silence.

Nothing kills desire faster than hearing another man’s name.

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Chapter 134 Dangerous Choices

68

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