In this chapter, Fiona and Pearl encounter a group of five masked men who quickly buy clothes and inquire about other strangers, revealing they are hunters blending into the crowd. Sensing danger, Fiona and Pearl decide to stay inside the manor, feeling the streets’ tension and unease.
Later, Fiona is shocked when a wounded, masked man named Soren presses a bloodied sword to her throat outside the carriage. Despite his threatening appearance, it becomes clear he is gravely injured and exhausted from being hunted relentlessly by powerful enemies, including Emperor Aldric, James, Tristan, and possibly even his own father, Alexander. Soren collapses, overwhelmed by his wounds and despair.
Fiona and Pearl rush to help Soren, lifting him into the carriage despite the risks. Pearl worries about the trouble they might face, but Fiona is determined to rescue him. As Soren drifts in and out of consciousness, he experiences a bittersweet moment of peace and longing when he sees Fiona. His touch on her wrist is weak but tender, revealing his deep emotional pain and conflicted feelings amid his physical suffering.
The chapter ends with Soren fading into unconsciousness, haunted by the harsh reality of his situation and the painful love he feels for Fiona—love that is both a source of comfort and a sharp torment.
Chapter 278: Sudden Shadows
“Did they come here to buy clothes as well?” Fiona asked, her voice tinged with a sharp curiosity.
After a brief pause, the man nodded slowly. “Yes, all five of them. They picked out what they needed quickly and left in a hurry. Before they went, they asked if I’d seen any other strangers around.”
Fiona leaned in slightly. “What did they look like?”
“They all had masks on. Tall, broad-shouldered men, each carrying a sword strapped to their backs. Hard to make out much more than that.”
A flicker of understanding crossed Fiona’s face. The clothes were just a disguise — those men were on a hunt, trying to blend in seamlessly with the crowd.
Without wasting another moment, she and Pearl paid for their purchases and left the stall, refusing to glance back.
“We should stay inside the manor today,” Pearl murmured nervously, tugging at Fiona’s sleeve. “There’s something off about the streets… they feel tense, uneasy.”
Fiona gave a silent nod, agreeing with the caution.
Not long after, Fiona pulled aside the curtain of the carriage to breathe in the crisp winter air—and suddenly froze.
A sword blade was pressed against her throat, cold and gleaming in the moonlight, jutting through the open window.
Outside stood a masked man, his dark clothes soaked and clinging to him, stained with what could only be blood.
Chunks of flesh were stuck to the blade. He had killed recently—so recently the steel still dripped crimson.
The coppery, metallic stench hit Fiona’s senses, turning her stomach, but she fought hard to keep from gagging. Stay calm. You’re playing the role of a composed young gentleman. Panic now, and this sword might finish its deadly work.
Her eyes caught the blood seeping from the man’s own sleeve. Despite the threat he posed, he was bleeding too.
His grip on the sword trembled violently, causing the blade to quiver faintly in the pale moonlight.
His arm was badly wounded—deep, savage wounds that drained his strength with every heartbeat.
For the past two weeks, Fiona had lingered in the mountains, hoping he would appear. She never found him there—until tonight, on this narrow road, he suddenly appeared and blocked her path.
“Get up here, quickly! I’ll take you with me!” Fiona blurted out, her words rushing out so fast she couldn’t hide the unmistakable clarity of her female voice.
Soren froze, rooted to the spot. That voice—it was unmistakably Fiona’s.
The sword slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground. His knees buckled beneath him, and pride gave way to gravity as he collapsed, blood spilling from his lips in a dark, hot stream.
Though he had concealed his injuries well, the wounds were grave, and someone had still managed to track him down.
They all wanted him dead.
Emperor Aldric, James, and worst of all, Tristan—they all wished for his demise.
Perhaps even Alexander had silently agreed, sacrificing his own son to protect the Zonfrillo family.
Soren had never feared dying for the family, nor resented his father’s willingness to sacrifice him.
What he had not expected was Alexander’s alliance with Emperor Aldric—sending assassins after him like prey.
Strength abandoned him. He lay on the cold dirt, fresh blood dripping from his mouth. In over twenty proud years, he had never felt so broken, so utterly defeated.
He doubted he would survive.
Suddenly, his hand lifted, shaking like a fragile leaf in winter, and settled on her slender wrist.
The touch was warm, impossibly gentle, as if he feared she might break beneath his fingers.
Pain seized his chest, stealing his breath, and he knew Emperor Aldric’s men would be closing in soon.
Yet, in that fleeting moment, a quiet peace settled over him like the first snowfall of the season.
Fiona…
Her name drifted through the fog of his fading consciousness, soft as falling ash but burning bright enough to sear.
Alas, every time the thought of her surfaced, a sharp, relentless pain stitched itself across his heart—delicate yet merciless—like love itself was lined with barbs.
The chapter closes on a poignant note, capturing the fragile intersection of hope and despair that defines Fiona and Soren’s entangled fates. Despite the looming threats and the weight of betrayal surrounding them, Fiona’s determination to protect Soren shines as a beacon of warmth amid the cold shadows. Their shared moments of vulnerability—his bloodied hand on her wrist, her careful ministrations—underscore the deep emotional currents running beneath the surface of their perilous world. It is a quiet testament to the resilience of love and loyalty, even when everything else seems poised to crumble.
Soren’s fading consciousness, haunted by regret and the sting of sacrifice, reveals the profound loneliness of a man caught between duty and desire. His yearning for Fiona, mingled with the pain of his inevitable fate, paints a heartrending portrait of a soul both broken and fiercely alive. As the night closes in, the chapter leaves us suspended in that delicate balance—where love is both a source of solace and a sharp reminder of all that is at risk. In this fragile moment, the promise of rescue and the weight of impending doom coexist, setting the stage for the struggles yet to come.
The next chapter promises to delve deeper into the fragile alliance forming between Fiona and the wounded Soren, whose vulnerability contrasts sharply with the fierce danger shadowing their every move. As Fiona tends to his grievous injuries, the tension between trust and suspicion will intensify, leaving readers wondering how much of Soren’s past and his true intentions will be revealed. The looming threat of their pursuers adds a pressing urgency, making every whispered word and hesitant touch charged with unspoken fears and desperate hopes.
Emotions are set to run high as the characters grapple with their tangled loyalties and the heavy cost of survival. Fiona’s determination to protect Soren, despite the risks, hints at a growing bond that could challenge the powerful forces arrayed against them. Meanwhile, the question of who can truly be trusted in this web of alliances and betrayals will keep readers on edge, anticipating the moment when hidden truths might shatter fragile alliances or forge unexpected ones. The next chapter will likely explore these delicate dynamics, blending suspense with poignant moments of connection amidst the shadows closing in.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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