Rejected by My Mate, Claimed by the Triplet Alphas のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60


Viene’s POV Nobody spoke on the walk back up from the chamber. Emani’s sentence sat behind my ribs the whole way, warm and patient, like it had taken up residence instead of just being said. You’re repeating it. By the time we reached the main hall, Nathan had already started giving orders. “Full lockdown on lower-level access,” he told the senior guard. “Nobody goes down without my direct clearance. Staff rotations get cut in half — I want fewer eyes on this wing, not more.” “Sir, that’s most of the night staff.” “I’m aware.” I stepped in front of him before he could finish the list. “You’re treating this like a security leak.” “It is a security leak. Somewhere between the ceremony circle and tonight, information about you has moved outside these walls fast enough that Vantrell sent an envoy who already knew things he shouldn’t. I’m not doing that again.” “You’re punishing people who didn’t do anything.” “I’m reducing the number of people who could.” His voice didn’t softe


Viene’s POV Neil sat across from me at the small table by the window instead of the desk, the folder between us unopened. “Before I show you anything,” he said, “I need to set terms. I’m not doing this the way I did the memory object. No surprises, no discovering the risk after we’re already inside it.” “Okay.” “Some of this is censored. Not by me — by whoever compiled the archive originally. Whole lines blacked out, sometimes whole pages. I’m going to show you exactly what’s there, including the gaps. I’m not going to fill them in with guesses and pretend they’re facts.” “I understand.” “And if it gets to be too much, you tell me, and we stop. Not tomorrow. Not after one more page. The second you say stop.” “I will.” He opened the folder. The first page was old, the paper gone soft and yellow at the edges, handwriting in ink that had faded to brown. A diagram sat at the top, the same kind Neil had shown all of us before — a woman’s figure, lines radiating from a central poi


Viene’s POV The pain started two hours after Nathan walked away down that corridor. A hollow ache under my collarbone, spreading slowly, then fast. By the time I made it to my room, I couldn’t stand straight. My hands shook reaching for the door handle. I sat on the floor because the bed felt too far. The file. Had to be. The blacked-out lines, the blood-pressure match with no name attached, the mark reacting to written words for the first time instead of touch. Whatever it was, it hadn’t finished with me yet. I didn’t call anyone. I could handle it. I’d told myself that before. The ache sharpened into something closer to a blade twisting slowly. I pressed both palms against my chest and felt my own pulse hammering under them, too fast, wrong. “Nolan.” I didn’t say it loud. Barely said it at all. But the mark pulled east the second his name left my mouth, sharp and certain, and I understood I hadn’t actually been trying to ride it out alone. I’d been waiting to see how long


Viene’s POV It happened again two nights later, worse than the trial, worse than anything since the border collapse. I woke at two in the morning already shaking, the mark burning hot enough that I thought for one panicked second it might mark me somewhere new. I sat up, pressed both hands to my chest, and knew immediately this wasn’t a night I could ride out alone. The ache had two edges to it this time. One sharp, radiating out from my collarbone the way it always did before Nolan’s hands fixed it. The other duller, deeper — a pull that had nothing to do with pain at all, the same one I’d felt reaching for Neil’s door two nights before. Stronger now. Undeniable. I called for both of them. Nolan got there first. He always did. He had me sitting upright within a minute, his hand flat against my sternum, and the sharp edge started backing off. The duller ache didn’t move at all. “It’s not going away,” I told him, my voice breaking. “I need him too. Not instead of you. As well a


Viene’s POV The footprints stopped dead at the boundary. Miel was gone before the guards reached the tree line, and nobody slept much after that. I know I didn’t. Nathan stayed out on the perimeter long after the guards confirmed the grounds were clear, like standing watch alone might undo what had already happened. I left him to it. There wasn’t anything I could say out there that would matter more than his own eyes checking the tree line himself. I found Neil in the archive past midnight instead, the file from before spread open across his desk again, new pages added to it that I hadn’t seen yet. “You said you’d bring anything new to Nathan first,” I said. “I will. Tomorrow. Tonight I wanted to understand it myself before I hand it to anyone.” He didn’t look up. “You should be asleep.” “So should you.” “Fair enough.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He looked like he hadn’t blinked in an hour. I sat down across from him anyway. “I want the rest of the matched line. The one u