Rejected by My Mate, Claimed by the Triplet Alphas のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 79


Viene’s POV I asked for another session before anyone could talk me out of it. Neil didn’t want to give it to me. I could tell by the way he stood in the doorway of the records room, arms crossed, as if his body had already decided before his mouth caught up. “You collapsed last time,” he said. “I know what happened last time.” “Then you know why I’m hesitating.” “You’re hesitating because Nathan told you to stop, not because you think it’s dangerous.” He didn’t deny it. That told me enough. “Half an hour,” I said. “If it goes wrong, you pull me out.” “It went wrong last time in under ten minutes.” “Then you’ll have plenty of warning.” He looked at me for a long moment, the kind of look that used to make my chest tighten and now just made me tired, because I already knew what came after it. He’d argue for another minute, and then he’d give in, because some part of him needed to know as badly as I did. “Nathan doesn’t know you’re here,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “No.


Viene’s POV The mark woke me at two in the morning, and it didn’t ask nicely. It started as a pull under my collarbone, thin and insistent, like something on the other end of a thread had decided to tug. By the time I sat up in bed, it had spread down my arm, a dull ache with no source, no bruise, nothing I could press my thumb against to make it stop. I lay there for twenty minutes telling myself it would pass. It didn’t. If anything it sharpened, a hunger I didn’t have a better word for, aimed at something specific I hadn’t finished — the fragment from the session two days ago, the part that had torn loose before it was ready to let go of me. I tried pressing my palm flat against my chest, tried breathing through it the way I would a cramp, and none of it made the slightest difference. It wasn’t pain exactly. It was closer to standing at the edge of a sentence someone had cut off mid-word, and my whole body wanting the rest of it badly enough to ache. Nathan’s ban didn’t touch


Viene’s POV I waited until Nathan was in the east wing and Nolan had gone to check the perimeter before I went looking for Neil. Not because I wanted to hide it from either of them. Because I needed him without an audience, and I think some part of him needed the same thing, because he didn’t ask why I’d waited until the house had gone quiet around us. The corridor outside the study was dark except for the strip of light under his door. I stood there a moment before I went in, listening to my own pulse instead of knocking, trying to decide whether I actually wanted the answer badly enough to hear it. I went in anyway. I found him in the study again, the same desk, the same drawer he’d opened four nights ago. He looked up when I came in and didn’t reach for anything this time. He just watched me cross the room and sit down across from him, like he already knew what I’d come to ask. “You know more than one recovered line,” I said. “Viene—” “Don’t. Don’t start with my name like t


Viene’s POV The ache started small. A pull under my collarbone, right after I woke up. I blamed it on a bad night’s sleep and got dressed anyway. By midmorning it hadn’t faded. It had sharpened, aimed, like something on the other end had started paying attention to me specifically instead of just existing somewhere out in the world. I didn’t say anything. Not at breakfast. Not when Nolan caught me pressing my hand to my chest over coffee and asked if I was all right. I told him I was fine. He didn’t believe me — I could tell by the way his eyes stayed on me a beat too long — but he let it go, which was its own kind of trust I didn’t examine too closely. “You’d tell me,” he said, not quite a question, “if it got worse.” “I’d tell you.” “That’s not the same as yes.” “It’s the best you’re getting before I’ve figured out what it even is.” He didn’t push further. That was Nolan — patient in a way that never quite felt like giving up. By noon the ache had a shape. Not pain exactl


Viene’s POV I woke up to an empty house. Not literally. Staff moved through the halls the way they always did, quiet and efficient. But Neil’s door stood open with the room dark behind it, untouched since the night before, and Nolan wasn’t at breakfast, and the coffee in the kitchen had gone cold in the pot like nobody had bothered to drink it before rushing off somewhere else. I checked the study first. Empty, the packet from last night gone from the desk. I checked the records room next. Also empty. Whatever had pulled all three of them out of bed before sunrise had pulled them somewhere I hadn’t been invited. I found all three of them behind the closed door of Nathan’s office, voices low enough that I couldn’t make out words through the wood, just the rhythm of an argument in progress, one voice cutting off another, then another cutting that one off in turn. I knocked. Nobody answered fast enough. I went in anyway. Three heads turned. The proximity log sat open on Nathan’s