All Chapters of Wolf shifter romance with murder mystery: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Five years after Alaska, the Council convenes to discuss my proposal for the Consciousness Trauma Recovery Program.I stand in the center of the chamber—the same place I stood when they questioned whether I was compromised, whether I should remain an Elder. Now I'm proposing the most ambitious consciousness magic initiative in our society's history."There are an estimated three thousand wolves across North America suffering from some form of consciousness trauma," I begin, my voice steady. "Fragmentation from accidental absorption. Damage from consciousness attacks. Failed integrations. For most of our history, we've had limited tools to help them. Many suffer for years. Some die. All of them live in pain that we could alleviate."I gesture to the documents I've distributed—comprehensive plans developed over two years with input from consciousness experts, medical professionals, and trauma survivors."The Consciousness Trauma Recovery Program would establish regional healing centers

The drive to Faye's mountain home takes three hours. Adrian insists on coming with me, though I tell him he doesn't need to."You're processing a traumatic professional experience," he says as we wind through mountain roads. "I'm not letting you do that alone."The autumn colors are brilliant—reds and golds blazing against evergreen. Under other circumstances, I'd find it beautiful. Today, I barely notice.Faye is waiting on her porch when we arrive. She takes one look at my face and pulls me into a hug—rare for her, which tells me how worried she is."Come inside. I've made tea."Adrian settles in the living room with a book, giving Faye and me space to talk. We sit at her kitchen table, cups of herbal tea steaming between us."Tell me about Michael," Faye says.I walk her through the case—the initial evaluation, the treatment plan, the sessions that went well, and then the catastrophic fourth session when everything fell apart."I should have seen it coming," I finish. "His consciou

The process of stepping back is harder than I expected.I start small—letting the Chicago director handle a complex case without my direct supervision, trusting the Phoenix team to develop their own treatment protocols within our ethical framework. Every time I resist the urge to micromanage, it feels like swallowing glass.Maya notices immediately."You're hovering," she says one morning, watching me pace outside a treatment room where she's working with a patient."I'm not hovering. I'm available if you need consultation.""You're hovering." She emerges from the treatment room, closing the door behind her. "Hope, I've been doing this work for eighteen months. I'm competent. You can trust me.""I do trust you. I—" I struggle to articulate the fear. "What if something goes wrong and I could have prevented it by being more involved?""Then something goes wrong, and we handle it together. But, Hope, you can't prevent every possible problem by personally overseeing every case. There aren

The announcement goes out three months after the Council approves expansion.After seven years as founder and director of the Consciousness Trauma Recovery Program, I'm transitioning to the role of Senior Advisor. Dr. Sarah Chen, who has served as the Chicago Center Director for the past five years, will assume the position of Program Director effective January 1st.This transition reflects the program's maturity and success. We've built something sustainable, something that no longer requires founding leadership but rather operational excellence. Sarah brings that excellence, along with deep clinical experience and strong relationships with all twelve centers.I'll remain involved in strategic planning, complex case consultation, and training oversight. But day-to-day operations will be Sarah's responsibility. I'm confident in her leadership and excited to see where she takes the program next.I write it, revise it a dozen times, and finally send it before I can second-guess myself i

The return to Seattle is jarring.We land on a grey November morning, and within hours, I'm pulled back into the rhythm of responsibilities—Council emails that accumulated during my absence, teaching schedule for the winter term at the Institute, a complex case consultation request from the Phoenix center."I've been back four hours," I tell Adrian, staring at my overflowing inbox. "Four hours and I already feel like Italy was a dream.""Then don't answer all of those today. Answer the urgent ones and let the rest wait until tomorrow.""They're all urgent—""Hope." His voice is gentle but firm. "They're all labeled urgent, but that doesn't mean they actually are. You just got back from your first vacation in twelve years. You're allowed to ease back into work instead of immediately drowning yourself."I force myself to close the laptop. "You're right. I just—the pull to respond immediately is so strong.""I know. But you need to resist that pull, or Italy meant nothing."Over the next