Ch. On graduation night, 10 On graduation night, 10

Chapter 10 

Damian didn’t argue. 

Lyra had manipulated them. 

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But the only reason it had worked was because they had already decided to stand on her side. 

All she had to do was shed a single tear, and they were willing to place every accusation on me. 

Damian closed the video and took the moonstone pendant from his pocket. 

He placed it on the table. 

“Starting today, you’re moving out of my house.” 

Lyra stared at him in disbelief. 

“You’re kicking me out?” 

“You are still a member Blood Moon Pack recovered and brought home. The pack will arrange housing for you and cover your living expenses.” 

His voice remained cold. 

“But you are no longer allowed in our private spaces, and you will not use anything Aria left behind.” 

“But you promised you’d take care of me.” 

“Taking care of you does not mean letting you replace her.” 

“And it certainly doesn’t mean letting you frame her.” 

Lyra looked toward the other three, hoping at least one of them would defend her. 

Rowan only stared down at the damaged medal in his hand. 

Julian silently gathered my research files. 

Asher kept replaying the moment in the video where his fingers had locked around my arm. 

This time, no one stepped in front of her. 

Lyra eventually left the room in tears. 

Damian felt no relief. 

He played the video again and paused on the final look I had given them. 

There had been no anger in my eyes. 

No hurt. 

Only the quiet calm that came after disappointment had gone too far to be repaired. 

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It was only then that Damian finally understood. 

I hadn’t given up on them while I was leaving Blood Moon Pack. 

I had given up on them much earlier. 

The moment they stormed into my bedroom and chose to believe Lyra over me, I had stopped thinking of them as my family. 

After several days on the road, the transfer vehicle finally entered Northern Pack territory. 

I was taken directly to Frostland’s wolf-core research facility. 

The North was colder than I had imagined. 

During my first week in the program, I followed my mentor into the extreme-cold testing zone, where we studied how low temperatures affected werewolf shifting and wolf-core stability. 

The daytime wind cut against exposed skin like a blade. 

At night, the temperature dropped even further. 

We often stayed beside the equipment until well after midnight, monitoring data and recalibrating the system. 

The severed childhood mental bonds were still affecting my wolf core. 

For the first few days, every attempt to shift sent a sharp pain through my chest. 

After examining me, my mentor asked if I regretted joining the program early. 

“No.” 

“You could have waited until fall and entered Frostland as an ordinary student.” 

He glanced at my medical readings. 

“You didn’t have to commit yourself to five years of classified residency.” 

I looked through the window at the snow-covered mountains beyond the facility. 

“If I’d stayed where I was, I might have given this up for them again.” 

I paused. 

“This is better.” 

“Now I don’t have a way to turn back.” 

My mentor didn’t ask anything else. 

He simply handed me the badge that identified me as an official member of the classified research program. 

Three months after joining Frostland, the wolf-core stability model I was responsible for passed simulation testing for the first time. 

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At two in the morning, the entire research team applauded. 

The lab director managed to find a bottle of laurel wine so cold it had nearly lost its flavor. 

“It’s all we’ve got. We’ll celebrate with this.” 

I took a sip. 

For some reason, I thought of the champagne at Lyra’s enrollment party. 

There had been no place for me on that cake. 

But here, on Frostland’s research results board, my name was written clearly on the very first line. 

Six months later, the facility allowed me to contact my parents through a secure line. 

My mother’s eyes immediately reddened when she saw me. 

My father asked whether my wolf core still hurt from the severed bonds. 

“It’s much better now.” 

“My mentor says it should return to normal with a little more time.” 

Only after they knew I was safe did they tell me that Damian and the others had visited our house again and again, asking for news about me. 

Damian had left behind countless letters. 

But because his name wasn’t on my authorization list, none of them had passed Frostland’s security review. 

“If you ever want to read them, we can keep them for you,” my father said. 

“No need.” 

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