My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 285

Neglected 285 Summary

Fiona is gripped by a chilling realization that some of the assassins hunting Soren might be sent by his own family, the Zonfrillos. This betrayal cuts deeply, especially as she struggles with the terrifying thought that her own mother, Meryl, could sacrifice her child for profit. Fiona’s unwavering trust in her parents is shattered, and she steels herself to face the possibility of ultimate betrayal without begging for mercy.

For three days, Soren lies unconscious in a cave, fragile and pale, while Fiona keeps a constant vigil. She tends to him carefully, brewing bitter medicine and feeding him the little food they have left, all the while fearing pursuit. When he finally awakens, their exchange reveals the depth of his wounds and the harsh reality of his situation. Soren admits that his own family, including his father and Tristan, have turned against him, sending assassins bearing their crest. This revelation exposes the treacherous web of family loyalty and political intrigue that surrounds him.

Despite his pain, Soren shows resilience and a quiet acceptance of his fate. Fiona’s care provides him with comfort and a rare moment of tenderness, though the weight of betrayal hangs heavily between them. He insists she stay with him until he regains strength, even as Fiona wrestles with the fear that her mother may be searching for her. Their bond grows in the isolation of the cave, marked by mutual trust and the unspoken tension of their precarious situation.

After two more days, Fiona wakes to find Soren gone, sparking panic. He returns with a calm smile, but Fiona’s anger surfaces, frustrated by his unexplained departure amid ongoing danger. Her protective instincts clash with the uncertainty of their circumstances, highlighting the fragile balance between care and survival as they navigate the threats lurking close behind.

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Chapter 285: Knives Hidden Behind Familiar Smiles

It was a chilling thought—among the assassins relentlessly pursuing him now, some might very well be blades sent by the Zonfrillo family itself.

Fiona felt a tightness coil deep within her chest, an unyielding knot she couldn’t unravel. She had always placed unwavering trust in her parents. The mere idea that Meryl, the mother she idolized, could one day barter her child’s life for profit was a terror so profound it pierced her soul. If the very person who nurtured me raised a knife against me, I would not plead for mercy—I would embrace oblivion without hesitation.

For three long days, Soren lay unconscious, utterly still on the rough pallet she had made for him, his pale form almost carved from stone. During that endless vigil, every shallow breath he took felt like a fragile thread holding him to life. Fiona scarcely dared to leave the cave, fearful that someone might track her back and finish what the assassins had started. So she remained, tending a small, smokeless flame to brew bitter medicine, forcing the harsh draught between his clenched teeth whenever his lips parted. On the dawn of the fourth day, as the medicine simmered quietly, his lashes fluttered open, and he drifted back to the world of the living.

Setting the iron pot aside, Fiona wiped the dampness from her palms on her skirt and stepped toward him with measured care.

“Lord Soren, you’ve been asleep for three whole days,” she said, her voice escaping as a sigh of relief she could no longer suppress.

His eyes searched her face, voice low and rough. “You stayed by my side the entire time?”

“How could I leave you?” she answered steadily, meeting his gaze without wavering. “I pulled you back from the edge once already. I won’t watch you fall again.”

A faint, weary smile flickered in his eyes. “Is there anything to eat?”

Fiona’s supplies were meager; when they fled that dreadful night, she had brought only a handful of travel rations. For three days, she had gnawed on dry, flavorless biscuits until her jaw ached, convincing herself that hunger was a luxury they could no longer afford.

“All I have left is hard tack,” she confessed softly. “I hope it won’t trouble you.”

He inclined his head, though the motion sent a sharp stab through his bandaged side—the wound now pulsing so fiercely he could barely raise his arm.

Seeing the strain etched across his face, Fiona broke a biscuit in half and gently lifted the piece to his lips.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable—almost tender—before he accepted the morsel and let it rest on his tongue.

No matter how little she offered, he ate without complaint. To him, any crumb given by her hand was a feast. Her quiet care spread a gentle warmth through the chill that had settled deep in his bones.

After half a biscuit, she withdrew her hand, unwilling to push his strength further. “It’s been tough on you, Lord Soren.”

“In Broadmoor, when battle raged, we survived on far worse fare,” he murmured with a faint smile. “This is nothing.”

Fiona hesitated for a moment before asking the question that had gnawed at her since the attack. “Given the danger you’re in, will the Zonfrillo family send help?”

A shadow darkened his face. After a brief pause, he answered plainly, “Tristan would rather I never return alive. As for my father, he will protect the family first and appease His Majesty by aiding the men sent to kill me. Many of the blades that wounded me bore our own crest.”

He let the silence stretch, then added bitterly, “No one knows my habits better than those within the family. I let my guard down among kin—and I paid the price.”

The very first squad of Shadow Guards—Tristan’s personal followers—had betrayed him, leading his pursuers right to his trail.

In her previous life, the tension between Soren and Tristan had always seemed oddly restrained—Tristan half fearful, half ingratiating, while Soren remained cold and aloof, even toward Alexander himself. Now, those invisible threads that had bound them lay bare before Fiona’s eyes.

Just as fear hardened into certainty that he had vanished without a word, Soren emerged, climbing the slope with steady, measured steps.

He paused when he saw her anxious face; a slow smile spread across his lips, and he quickened his pace toward her.

“Even if you have matters to attend to, you should at least tell me!” Fiona scolded, a sharp edge of anger sharpening her voice.

She had cared for him tirelessly; unexplained disappearances were among the few things she would not tolerate—especially with danger still lurking nearby.

Conclusion

The chapter gently unfolds the fragile bond of trust and care growing between Fiona and Soren amidst a backdrop of betrayal and looming danger. Fiona’s unwavering devotion and quiet strength become a lifeline for Soren, who, despite his wounds and the cold reality of his family’s treachery, finds solace in her presence. Their shared vulnerability and the small acts of kindness—like breaking a biscuit and tending to medicine—highlight the tender humanity that persists even in the darkest moments.

As Soren quietly regains his strength, the tension between hope and uncertainty lingers, underscoring the emotional complexity of their situation. Fiona’s mix of relief, fear, and frustration reveals the depth of her commitment, while Soren’s steady resilience hints at the battles yet to come. Together, they navigate the precarious space between survival and trust, their connection a fragile but vital beacon amid the shadows closing in around them.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

The next chapter promises to deepen the intricate web of trust and betrayal that has begun to unravel in the shadows of the Zonfrillo family. As Soren regains his strength, the fragile alliance between him and Fiona will be tested by the unseen dangers lurking just beyond the cave. The tension between loyalty and survival will intensify, forcing both to confront the painful truths about the family they once believed in.

Emotions will run high as Fiona grapples with her growing feelings for Soren, complicated by the looming threat of enemies disguised as kin. Soren’s quiet resilience masks a storm of inner conflict that may soon spill over, challenging the fragile peace they have found. Readers can expect moments charged with vulnerability and unspoken fears, setting the stage for a confrontation that could change everything they thought they knew about trust, family, and sacrifice.