Scars of Silence(MxM) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

His question hung in the air. What are you?I stared at him, my mind blank. “I’m… a Beta. I’ve always been a Beta.” My medical records said so. My whole life said so.Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. He took another step closer. Now I was trapped between him and the stone railing. The scent of him—ocean, snow, pine—was overwhelming. It made my head spin. It also did something else. It made a low, warm hum start deep in my belly. A pull. I wanted to lean into it. Into him.I shook my head, trying to clear it. “What’s going on?”“You tell me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “The moment I touched you, your scent changed. It’s… different. Unstable. A Beta’s scent doesn’t do that.”He was so close now. I could see the flecks of darker gray in his eyes. See the tight line of his mouth. My own breath was coming too fast. That strange heat was spreading, making my skin feel sensitive, tingling. A faint, new scent started to rise from my own skin—something clean and sharp, like frost and ozone. I’d

The night got worse.The ache turned into a fire. It started in my bones, a deep, grinding heat, and spread out until my whole skin felt like it was on fire. I stripped off my suit jacket, my tie, but it didn’t help. Sweat soaked through my shirt.I stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. In the mirror, I looked wild. My hair was plastered to my forehead. My blue eyes were wide, glassy with pain and confusion. My skin was flushed.And that scent… that sharp, clean scent of frost and ozone was stronger now, filling the small room. It smelled… powerful. Alien. It scared me.A fresh wave of pain hit, so intense I cried out. My legs gave way and I slid to the cool tile floor, curling into a ball. It felt like my insides were being ripped apart and put back together wrong. My muscles spasmed. My breath came in ragged, painful gasps.What’s happening to me?I thought I was going to die, alone on a bathroom floor in a mansion in Italy. The thought was almost funny. My fath

Consciousness returned slowly, wrapped in thick, sticky layers of fog. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. My mouth was dry. The world came back in pieces.First, the smell. Clean, sharp. Antiseptic. Not a hospital, but something close. A private clinic.Second, the feel. Stiff sheets. A mattress that was too firm. The soft, constant beep of a monitor.I opened my eyes. The light was dim, artificial. I was in a small, white room. There was a window, but the blinds were shut. A single door, probably locked. An IV line was taped to the back of my hand.I was a prisoner. A patient-prisoner.I tried to sit up, and a wave of dizziness hit me. The deep, hollow ache was still there, a constant background noise in my body. It was quieter now, dulled by whatever drugs were in the IV, but it was a presence. A reminder.The door opened. A woman in a white coat entered. She had a kind smile, but her eyes were watchful, like Dr. Armani’s.“Ah, you’re awake, Mr. Chase. How are you feeling

The flight to Naples was smooth. I spent it reviewing the Accord files, memorizing names, positions, potential points of conflict. My mind was a cool, organized machine. My scent was locked down tight—a bland, neutral nothingness that projected professional detachment.Gabriel, the Alpha who would be my direct superior and liaison for this mission, sat across from me. He was handsome, charming in a deliberate way, and ambitious. He’d been assigned to “assist and observe” me. I knew what that meant. The Alliance was testing both of us.“Nervous?” Gabriel asked, sipping his water. “First big assignment. Home turf for your… former connections.”He knew the basics. My aborted engagement to Alessia Rossi. He didn’t know about Lorenzo. About the bond. That was a file locked away with the highest clearance.“It’s just another city,” I said, not looking up from my tablet. “And they’re not my connections anymore.”He smiled, a flash of white teeth. “Good answer. Remember, you’re Alliance now.

I spent the next two days in meetings. Long, dry meetings about maritime boundaries, patrol protocols, and data-sharing agreements. Lorenzo was there, of course, leading the military delegation. He was every inch the professional, his attention focused, his questions sharp. He never looked at me unless it was strictly necessary. When he did, his eyes were blank. A superior officer looking at a useful, if foreign, resource.Good. That’s how I wanted it.Gabriel, however, had other ideas.We were at a coffee break during a particularly grueling session on counter-piracy measures. Gabriel sidled up to me, a charming smile on his face as he chatted with a Dutch admiral. As the man walked away, Gabriel’s smile turned sharper.“You’re doing well,” he said quietly, pouring himself a coffee. “Too well, maybe. You haven’t so much as glanced in Rossi’s direction. It’s almost unnatural.”“I’m here to work, not socialize,” I said, keeping my voice low.“Of course. But a little… social lubrication