Chapter 108: Chapter 108
I woke up feeling... light.
That was the only word for it. Like someone had removed a fifty-pound weight from my chest that I’d been carrying around for so long I’d forgotten what breathing normally felt like.
Tom was gone. Really, truly gone.
Christian was already awake, propped up on one elbow watching me with those intense eyes of his.
"Creeper," I mumbled, stretching.
"You smiled in your sleep," he said. "First time in months."
"Yeah, well." I rolled over to face him properly. "Turns out banishing your stalker does wonders for your mental health."
We ended up having breakfast in bed—Christian insisted, saying I deserved to be pampered after yesterday’s trial. I didn’t argue. The pancakes were amazing.
"I’ve been thinking," I said, syrup dripping from my fork. "About those three refugees you helped rescue. The ones staying in the guest house."
Christian raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"
"We have space. Resources. What if we made it official? Like, a real sanctuary program for wolves who have nowhere else to go?"
I pulled out my phone and showed him the sketches I’d made last night when I couldn’t sleep. Floor plans, budget estimates, program ideas—I might have gotten a little carried away.
Christian studied my drawings, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled. "Let’s do it."
"Really?"
"Really. I’ll call Marcus and Connor. We can meet this afternoon."
Marcus looked at my sketches like I’d handed him a live grenade.
"You want to house *more* refugees?" He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Sophie, I get the impulse, but we need to think about security—"
"Which is why we’re having this meeting," I interrupted. "I’m not asking to throw open the borders and invite everyone in. I’m asking for a structured program with proper vetting and support systems."
Connor was already typing on his laptop. "Actually, this could be great PR for Shadow Ridge. Show other packs we’re leaders in humanitarian efforts."
"Humanitarian?" Marcus snorted. "We’re werewolves."
"You know what I mean."
Christian had been quiet, just watching us debate. Finally, he spoke up. "How much are we talking, Sophie? Budget-wise."
I bit my lip. "Fifty thousand to start? For renovations and—"
"Make it a hundred thousand."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"Christian," I started, but he shook his head.
"If we’re doing this, we do it right. No half-measures." He looked at me, and something warm flooded through our bond. "I believe in your vision completely."
I had to blink back tears. "Okay then."
Marcus sighed. "Fine. But I’m implementing serious security measures."
"Deal."
Diana took me to see the buildings the next day. Three structures on the edge of pack territory—old, abandoned, but structurally sound.
"They’ve been empty for years," Diana explained as we walked through the first one. Dust motes floated in the afternoon sunlight streaming through broken windows. "Nobody wanted to invest in fixing them up."
I could see it, though. Past the grime and neglect, I could see these spaces transformed into actual homes. Safe places where broken wolves could start healing.
"This one could be the main residence," I said, walking through what used to be a living room. "Communal kitchen here, maybe some private bedrooms upstairs—"
"Sophie." Diana grabbed my arm. "I need to tell you something."
The serious tone made me stop. "What?"
"I’ve always wanted Shadow Ridge to do this. Have a real refugee program, I mean." Diana’s eyes were bright. "But nobody would listen to me. They thought it was too risky, too expensive, and too soft."
"Diana—"
"You’re making it happen. In like, three days, you’ve gotten further than I did in five years of proposing it." She hugged me suddenly. "Thank you."
I hugged her back, throat tight. "We’re doing it together."
The contractors came the following week. Christian sat in on every meeting, asking detailed questions about accessibility ramps and fire safety that I hadn’t even thought of yet.
"What about soundproofing?" he asked the head contractor. "Some of these refugees will have PTSD. Loud noises could be triggering."
The contractor made notes. "We can definitely add acoustic insulation."
I squeezed Christian’s hand under the table. He squeezed back.
By the end of the meeting, we had a timeline: three months for the first building, six months for all three.
"It’s really happening," I said to Christian as the contractors left.
"Did you doubt it would?"
"Kind of? I mean, this is huge." I gestured at the renovation plans spread across the conference table. "A few months ago, I didn’t even know werewolves existed. Now I’m running a sanctuary program?"
Christian pulled me onto his lap. "Now you’re changing lives. There’s a difference."
I didn’t plan to offer Lily the coordinator position. It just kind of... happened.
She was helping me organize donation requests one afternoon when I blurted out, "How would you feel about running this place?"
