My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210 Cliffside Vigil

Chapter 210 Cliffside Vigil

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I swear, every time I let Mindy drag me along, disaster strikes. She parades around, so sharp and bossy, yet the instant it matters, every ounce of competence simply vanishes.

“Go back–run–and bring someone down here, now!” Fiona snapped, her fury so hot she couldn’t even bring herself to add Mindy’s name for politeness.

“I can’t just leave you here alone,” Mindy protested, uncertainty wobbling in her voice.

Then jump down here and keep me company, Fiona shot back, breathless with irritation. “If you won’t go for help, what use are you?”

Silence swallowed Mindy. Her mouth opened, closed, then stayed shut; words deserted her.

“Please, go.” Fiona’s tone softened to a brittle calm. “I think my leg’s hurt, and when the night air turns icy I won’t last.”

Mindy knew the mountain nights could freeze marrow. Fear flickered in her eyes, yet she also understood that lingering would only doom them both. After a halting nod, she turned and began the climb back up the narrow trail.

Left alone, Fiona could only curse her own luck; lately it felt as if even a sip of water would crack a tooth. Terror gnawed at her ribs, but fear solved nothing, so she forced herself to stay alert.

Exhaustion, however, proved the stronger hunter. Barely half an hour later, her eyelids grew heavier than stone and, despite the danger, she drifted into uneasy sleep.

When Fiona finally surfaced from that shallow slumber, the first thing she registered was a quiet, masculine presence beside her.

He perched on a slab of rock, coaxing a small fire to life, the torchlight washing his sharp profile in gold. The cloak he had draped over her shoulders carried the lingering smell of cedar and smoke.

“Where are the others?” Fiona asked, voice still husky with sleep.

“They’ve gone back,” Soren answered while adding another stick to the growing fire, sparks leaping like fireflies into the dark.

“And Mindy?” The name tasted of reluctant concern on Fiona’s tongue.

“Probably went back with them,” Soren replied, his tone as flat as the cold stone beneath their

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Chapter 210 Cliffside Vigil

fect. “I hadn’t expected her to forget the way down the mountain entirely.”

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He offered a small grunt. “In future, keep your distance from people whose minds are that dim.”

Such unvarnished criticism of Mindy was the last thing Fiona expected. She hesitated; strictly speaking, the Ronson family served the Zonfrillo Estate.

“If you knew the Royal Guard would come, why not wait for them?” Fiona asked carefully. She understood that if he could have carried her up himself, he’d have done so hours ago.

Soren met her gaze. “And why, do you think, would I ever trust the Royal Guard?”

Fiona fell silent. After a long moment she murmured, “Thank you, Lord Soren.”

“You hand out gratitude like sweets,” Soren said, his voice thin with cold amusement, “yet every one of your actions needles me That young lord’s roasted meat–tasted wonderful, didn’t it?”

The moment Fiona caught the lazy cadence in Soren’s voice, understanding struck like a spark inside her chest.

A breath ago a pampered young lordling had been hovering over the spit, bragging about his expertise. Now he was simply gone, swallowed by the darkness beyond the firelight. Only one person could have engineered so quiet a vanishing act–Soren, with that effortless knack for mischief he wore as calmly as his own skin.

“Does Mr. Hillcrest know this is how the heir of the Zonfrillo family ‘looks after‘ his charges?”

Soren, entirely unbothered, merely shrugged. “Even a scholar as patient as Mr. Hillcrest would tire of someone poaching from his garden.”

He adjusted the glowing embers with the tip of his sword, then set the skinned rabbit back on its iron frame. Almost at once the night air filled with the rich promise of sizzling meat.

The cold had already gnawed through Fiona’s layers; at that smell her stomach answered with a low, unmistakable growl.

“There’s nothing between you and me,” she said, eyeing the browning rabbit yet determined to keep her distance. “So stop muttering about stolen affections.”

Soren glanced her way. The heavy cloak she wore belonged to him, leaving him in nothing but a close–fitting riding shirt. Under the winter stars he looked almost spare, yet perfectly at ease.

“It isn’t ready. Eat too soon and you’ll curse me with a stomachache. Wait a little longer,” he advised, voice soft but firm.

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Chapter 210 Cliffside Vigil

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Fiona reminded herself that generosity could become shackles. She lifted her chin, polite, detached. “You went to such trouble to bring it down here, Lord Soren. You ought to enjoy every bite yourself.”

“You truly don’t want any?”

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