Chapter 2

Saturday morning, my father came to my room.

I thought he was going to give me the $320 for my vials.

But he spoke like he was interrogating an intruder.

"$3,600. Where did you transfer the money?"

I sat up, holding my burning forehead. "What money? I don't even have the payment password for the accounts."

"Who else could it be but you?" My father sneered, his eyes full of disgust. "Jace and Chloe have bright futures. They wouldn't do this. Only you, who contributes nothing to the Pack, are always begging for money!"

Every word was like a blade dipped in ice water, piercing right through my chest.

My fever made it hurt just to breathe, but I didn't back down.

"I only asked you for $320 yesterday, and you said no." I stared into his eyes. "There are cameras all over the main building, Father. Go check the footage, or track where the money actually went!"

But he leaned down with a smile and condemned me word by word: "Jace said you bought a bunch of useless scrap using his secondary card account to get back at the family, and you even put the shipping address as the black market! Did you think I wouldn't know you erased the evidence? You took it. Just admit it. Freya, you disappoint me so much."

He left in a rage.

At noon, my mother Valerie clicked over in her heels.

She wouldn't even step over the threshold of the storage room. She just coldly delivered a notice.

"Because of your stunt, you are permanently cut off from the pack accounts, effective immediately." She looked down at me. "We don't need a family member who steals pack funds."

I didn't say a word. I just watched her quietly.

Just then, heavy footsteps came from the end of the hall.

My brother Jace walked over in a brand-new combat uniform.

My eyes fell on his feet.

They were a pair of high-end Shadow Series tactical boots, custom-made for werewolf transformations.

As a potioneer, I compared material prices on the black market and supplier websites every day.

I knew exactly how much those boots cost.

$3,600. Not a penny more, not a penny less.

Jace noticed my gaze and smugly lifted his foot.

"What?" He whistled without a shred of guilt. "You look pretty sick. Stealing money is hard work, huh?"

I turned to look at my mother. She was gently fixing Jace's collar, completely blind to the $3,600 boots on his feet.

That afternoon, a special delivery truck parked outside the main building.

Jace excitedly tore open the package and pulled out a bulletproof tactical vest worth $2,400.

My father even stood by, personally showing him how to adjust the buckles.

This was the "frugality" my father talked about.

"Every penny must be spent wisely" was nothing but a curse used exclusively to exploit me.

At 3 PM, I swallowed two fever reducers and dragged my weak body onto the bus heading to the market.

It was my mother's absolute order. I had to go with Chloe, who was scared of heights and strangers, to pick out jewelry for the Full Moon Festival.

The bus bumped along.

Chloe sat next to me, hugging her expensive handbag.

She turned her head, avoided my eyes, and lowered her voice.

"Freya..." She bit her lower lip, looking pitiful. "Actually... I walked past Father's study yesterday and saw Jace on the tablet. He transferred the money."

My heart had gone numb a long time ago. It didn't even skip a beat.

"Then why didn't you tell Father?" My voice was raspy.

"How could I?" Chloe's eyes welled up with tears, acting like she was the victim. "Father and Mother wouldn't believe me if I told them. And... Jace has special training next week. He really needed those boots. Just don't be mad at him, okay?"

I looked at her delicate, naive, and innocent face.

She knew everything.

She watched me get framed. She watched me get stripped of everything while running a high fever. She even watched me take the blame for stealing.

And then, she turned around and peacefully enjoyed her perfect little life, asking me "not to be mad."

"I'm not mad." I turned my head and looked out the window at the passing streets.

Why would I be mad at a bunch of strangers?

At the market, I dropped Chloe off at the high-end jewelry store.

Through the glass window, I watched her swipe her card for an $800 moonstone necklace without blinking.

I looked down and opened my bank account on my phone.

Balance: $2,200.

This was my blood, sweat, and tears from the past three years. Doing odd jobs at the herb shop, even testing potions on myself, saving up penny by penny.

Originally, this was my room and board for the Royal Academy.

Now, it was my only chip to escape this cage.

The Winterhaven territory in the North was two thousand miles away.

Living expenses were high there, and the conditions were harsh.

My meager savings couldn't even cover the deposit for a nice apartment.

If I stayed, as the eldest daughter of the Crescent Falls Pack, I would at least be fed.

But I knew if I stayed, that word "frugality" would drain my last drop of blood. I would become their stepping stone to show off to others, until I completely withered away in this windowless storage room.

Leaving would be a gamble. But staying was a death sentence.