WEBS OF FORBIDDEN ENTANGLEMENT のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Mark Coleman knew how to smile without meaning it.It was a skill he had perfected in the academy.Across the grand hall, he watched Raymond Stone walk away from the dance floor, posture crisp, expression unreadable.But Mark had known Raymond for ten years.He recognised that look.Interest.Dangerous interest.Mark sipped from his glass slowly.Beside him, Lieutenant Sean Carter followed his line of sight.“Is that her?” Sean asked quietly.“Yes,” Mark replied.“General Watson’s daughter?”Mark nodded once.Sean let out a low whistle. “Ray doesn’t play small, does he?”Mark didn’t answer.He was watching Tricia.The way she stood still after the dance.The way she looked toward the exit where Raymond had disappeared.Not confusion.Not politeness.Something softer.Something that tightened like a blade beneath Mark’s ribs.Mark had grown up with Raymond.Same training camp. Same punishments. Same ambition.Raymond had always been the better one.Stronger in combat.Sharper in strate

The first night she let herself cry, Mark didn’t leave.He didn’t offer words of comfort at first. He just sat on the edge of the couch, close enough for her to lean against him, far enough to respect her space.Tricia’s tears soaked into his shirt. She didn’t care.“You don’t have to apologize,” he said softly. “Just… be.”She pressed her forehead to his chest. The sound of his heartbeat steadied her frantic one.“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she whispered.“I know,” Mark replied, voice low, patient. “I know.”The hours passed quietly. He didn’t speak more than necessary. He offered water, blankets, meals, small acts of care that felt monumental in her grief.And slowly, day by day, she began to lean on him. Not intentionally, but inevitably.One evening, she fell asleep on his shoulder in the living room.Mark watched her face, traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb, and felt something stirring that went beyond friendship.It terrified him.Not because he shouldn’t feel it. Bec

Three days after Raymond returned, the world still didn’t feel real to Tricia.People had come and gone from the house since morning, family, officers, old friends, neighbors bringing food and loud relief. Everyone wanted to see the man who had supposedly died and somehow walked back into life.By evening, the noise finally thinned.The house grew quiet.Tricia stood in the kitchen staring at the sink, though there was nothing there to see. Her mind still moved in circles around the same impossible truth.Raymond was alive.Alive meant everything had changed again.Footsteps sounded behind her.

The house was quieter that afternoon.Most of the relatives who had crowded the place since Raymond’s return had finally gone home, leaving behind only the faint smell of food and the scattered evidence of celebration, empty cups, folded chairs, forgotten conversations lingering in the air.Tricia stood on the balcony outside Raymond’s room, watching the street below.Cars moved lazily along the road.People walked past without knowing how drastically her life had changed in the last few days.Behind her, the sliding door opened.Raymond stepped outside.“You disappear a lot,” he said.She glanced back at him.“I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”“I always keep track of you.”The words were simple.But they made her chest tighten.He leaned against the railing beside her.For a moment neither of them spoke.The evening air was warm, carrying the distant sounds of the city.Raymond studied her from the corner of his eye.“You’ve been quiet today.”“So have you.”“I’ve been observ

The following week settled into a routine that felt normal on the surface.Raymond began slowly returning to parts of his life. Not full military duties yet, the doctors insisted he still needed time, but meetings, paperwork, and short visits to the base filled his mornings.To everyone else, it looked like recovery.To Tricia, it looked like Raymond reclaiming the world he had nearly lost.She noticed the change in him every day.His confidence returned quickly. His voice carried authority again. People listened when he spoke.Even the small scar at his temple seemed to make him look more hardened, more composed.But it was the evenings that made things complicated.Because Raymond always came back to her.That night they sat outside a quiet restaurant near the waterfront. The air was warm, and soft lights reflected across the dark water.Raymond leaned back in his chair, watching her.“You look distracted,” he said.“Do I?”“Yes.”She gave a small smile.“I’m just tired.”“You’ve be