The Midnight Veil のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Charlie's apartment sat four floors up in a building that pretended it wasn't constantly on the brink of collapse. The exterior brickwork had the permanent expression of someone exhausted by taxes and gravity. The hallway lights flickered with the enthusiasm of dying stars. The radiator hissed like a territorial snake.But it was home. And it was safe—mostly because the building was old enough to have thick walls and tenants disinterested enough not to ask questions about weird noises.Charlie pushed open the fire escape window and slipped inside her living room. It was cluttered but lived-in: stacks of books leaned dangerously against one another, blankets in various states of softness draped across the couch, and a coffee mug army occupying every flat surface.Rowan climbed in behind her, awkward and unsure, like someone trying to pretend they were still human when something inside them had learned to walk on four paws instead of two.He stood dripping on the hardwood floor, looking

Charlie didn't sleep.Every time she closed her eyes, her wolf twitched beneath her skin — restless, pacing, hackles raised. Her instincts kept replaying Matthew's words like an annoying song she couldn't turn off.There's another shapeshifter in the city. One who kills.And I think it's hunting you.Her heartbeat wouldn't settle. Even the shadows in her apartment felt intrusive, edging too close, leaning in like they meant to listen.By sunrise, she gave up and brewed the strongest coffee her cheap machine could withstand before exploding. She took her mug to the window and stared out at the waking city — buses hissing, neon signs flickering off, a stray cat leaping from one dumpster to another like the world's least graceful ninja.Nothing unusual.Which, for Charlie, was suspicious.She ran a hand over her hair and breathed in deep.Metal. Rain. Asphalt.And—She froze.Forest.Not literal forest — not pine needles or moss — but that subtle, unmistakable scent only wolves carried.

The deeper they walked, the quieter the forest became.Not peaceful quiet.Not natural quiet.A heavy, deliberate stillness — like the woods themselves were listening.Charlie kept pace between Matthew and Lysander, refusing to be shepherded, even though both men instinctively angled their bodies toward her. Protecting. Guarding. Blocking each other.It would've been flattering if it weren't so unbelievably exhausting.Eventually, the trees thinned, opening into a clearing where the sunlight dimmed without reason, shadows pooling like ink spilled on old parchment.At the far end stood a structure.It looked like a small chapel — aged wood, moss-covered roof, windows made of stained glass cracked with time.But the foundation was stone.Worn smooth by countless paws.Scarred with claw marks.A history carved into it.The door was made of bone.Actual bone — bleached white, fitted together like puzzle pieces, ribs and femurs and vertebrae woven into an arch too precise to be accidental.

The forest outside the Bone-Chapel was too quiet.No birds. No insects. No wind threading through branches.It felt... held. Like the entire woods was waiting to see what Charlie would do next.Matthew kept one hand on her elbow as they walked, steadying her. She would've shaken him off — for dignity — if her legs weren't still doing an impression of damp noodles.Lysander walked ahead, shoulders tense, shirt torn where the Hollowed had struck him. The wound had already begun to close, but the smear of blood on his ribs was a visceral reminder:They almost died back there.Charlie almost died back there.Twice in one day. New personal record.Matthew must've noticed the way she shivered. "You sure you're okay?""Nope," Charlie said. "But I'm upright, so that's something.""That was more than a burst of instinct," Lysander said without looking back. "You produced a lunar flare."Charlie blinked. "A what now?"Matthew answered quietly. "A manifestation of raw moon-forged energy. F

Charlie wasn't sure if the forest grew quieter because night was settling inor because every creature within a mile radius sensed trouble approaching.Probably both.The wind shifted. She felt it first—a shiver across her skin like the air itself recoiled.Wren's hand tightened around her elbow."Don't move," he said softly."Not planning on it," she whispered, though her pulse was already sprinting.Branches parted behind them with the slow, deliberate rustle of something large.Not clumsy.Not frantic.Just... purposeful.Like it owned whatever it was walking into.Wren stepped in front of her, his posture sliding into that unnervingly calm readiness he used whenever he expected bloodshed."Let me guess," Charlie murmured, "this is the part where you tell me to run?""No." His voice dropped in pitch. "Running would just make it chase us.""Great. Love that for us."A shape emerged from the shadows—a wolf, but too large, too lean, too predatory for anything remotely natural.Its e