Chapter 319 They're on Their Own

Chapter 319 They're on Their Own
"I don't know how we ended up here," Ginny whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the house. "Two kids who spent their childhoods hiding. You in a home where your own parents didn't want you, and me being shuffled through foster home after foster home like I was a piece of junk mail."
Leela nodded, the memories surfacing like shadows. They had been each other's only constant. They used to run off together, spending nights on cold rooftops or huddled in the corner of a park—anywhere that took them away from the hate they felt radiating from the adults in their lives.
"It’s not insane, Gin," Leela said, her presence cool and grounding. "It’s the first time in our lives we’ve actually ended up exactly where we belong."
Suddenly, Leela sat up straighter, a strange look crossing her face. "Ginny... how did we actually meet?"
Ginny blinked, searching her mind. "I don't know. We were in the same kindergarten class, right? Miss Tiggs?"
Leela shook her head slowly. "No, I had Mr. Fiskey for kindergarten. First grade?"
"Mrs. Gable," Ginny said.
"I had Miss Crinson," Leela countered. "Second?"
"Mr. Miller."
"No."
They went through every grade, every teacher, every playground memory, but the "beginning" was missing. It was as if they had simply always existed together.
"It must be fate," Leela whispered, a soft realization dawning on her. "The Goddess didn't just find me; she found us. She knew I’d need my sister, and she knew Jax needed someone with a heart like yours. You love him, don't you?"
"I do," Ginny admitted, her fingers picking at the threads of the duvet. "But that doesn't keep me from being terrified of the shift."
"I was terrified too," Leela said. "But yours is different. It's going to come at the exact moment Jax marks you. The bond will anchor the wolf."
Ginny pulled back, giving her a dry, skeptical smirk. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because having a giant werewolf bite my neck while my bones are snapping into new shapes doesn't exactly sound like a spa day."
Leela let out a soft, wicked chuckle. "Well, I don't know exactly how it will happen for you, but let’s just say... the 'before' and 'after' aren't even in the same universe. When you’re human, it’s nice. It’s love. But once the wolf is awake? Everything is a thousand times more intense. You don't just feel him; you sense him. Every touch is like being plugged into a live wire. It’s high-definition color, Gin."
Ginny’s face went crimson. "Leela! You're saying I'm going to be... like, a nympho-wolf?"
"I’m saying you’re going to understand why Jax looks at you like you’re the only source of oxygen in the room," Leela laughed, nudging her. "The marking doesn't just change you; it fuses your souls. It makes the 'extracurriculars' feel like magic."
Leela’s grin lingered, but it shifted—less teasing now, more grounded, like she was choosing her words instead of tossing them like sparks.
“I’m saying,” she continued, nudging Ginny with her shoulder, “that once it happens, you stop questioning where you stand with him. There’s no guessing, no second-guessing, no lying awake wondering if you matter more today than you did yesterday.” Her voice softened. “You just… know.”
Ginny’s embarrassment didn’t vanish, but it settled into something quieter, threaded with curiosity. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you look like you’re in on some cosmic secret.”
Leela huffed a small laugh and leaned back against the headboard, one hand absentmindedly resting over the curve of her stomach. “Because it kind of is a secret—at least until it happens to you.”
Ginny watched her carefully. “Then stop dancing around it and just tell me.”
“The bond isn’t just about closeness,” Leela said. “It rewires you. Before, love is something you feel—strong, yeah, but still separate. After? It’s like your emotions don’t stop at your own skin anymore.”
Ginny frowned slightly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning if he’s hurting, you feel it echo. Not the exact pain, but the weight of it. Like pressure in your chest you can’t ignore. And he on the other end of that bond will feel you because it grounds him, helps calm him.” Leela tapped her sternum lightly. “And when he’s steady—when he’s calm—you settle without even realizing why.”
Ginny’s fingers stilled on the duvet. “So you’re… constantly aware of him? But I can't handle all the noise in my head now.”
“It won't be an overwhelming way and you will have a wolf, she is what will help with the senses. Help block some of those parts from your human side, like your hearing,” Leela said. “It’s more like background music. You don’t notice it every second, but the moment it changes, you do.” She smiled faintly. “The first time Fennigan left after the bond, I woke up in a panic because it went quiet. Took me a minute to realize I wasn’t missing a sound—I was missing him.”
Ginny exhaled slowly. “That sounds… addictive.”
“It can be,” Leela admitted. “That’s why it matters that it’s real. You can’t fake a bond like that. It either holds, or it doesn’t.”
Silence stretched for a beat before Ginny spoke again, quieter now. “And the shift? With the marking?”
Leela’s expression turned more serious. “That’s the hard part. Your body’s going to feel like it’s tearing itself apart and rebuilding at the same time. Every instinct will be screaming at you to fight it.” She leaned forward slightly. “That’s where the bond comes in. It gives you something to lock onto—something familiar in the middle of all that chaos.”
Ginny swallowed. “You mean Jax.”
Leela nodded. “You’ll feel him there. Not physically, not exactly—but enough that you won’t get lost in it.” Her gaze softened. “I held onto Fennigan like that. Not with my hands. With… everything else.”
Ginny’s eyes dropped, processing.
“And after?” she asked.
Leela’s lips curved again, but this time it wasn’t mischievous—it was almost awed. “After is… clarity. Like someone wiped fog off a window you didn’t know was there. Your senses sharpen, yeah, but it’s more than that. You feel right. Like your body finally matches whatever’s been sitting inside you all along.”
Ginny let out a shaky breath. “And him? Jax?”
“You’ll see him differently,” Leela said. “Not because he changes—but because you do. You’ll recognize him in a way that goes deeper than memory or logic. It’s instinct. Certainty.” She paused, then added, quieter, “Home.”
Ginny’s throat bobbed.
Leela nudged her again, lighter this time. “And before you spiral—no, it doesn’t erase you. You’re still you. Just… louder. Sharper. Harder to ignore.”
Ginny huffed a faint laugh. “God help everyone, then.”
“Oh, absolutely not,” Leela shot back. “They’re on their own.”