Chapter 317 I'm Dying Aren't I
Jax’s smile was the first thing Ginny saw as he rounded the corner, and it was the most grounded he had looked in days. The heavy, ashen mask of the warrior had been replaced by the warmth of a man who finally understood the miracle he was looking at.
The room was a bustle of soft activity. Per Elias’s instructions, Sarah was already prepping a bottle of goat's milk to supplement the breast milk. Iggy—the "little chubby" as the pack was already calling him—was a metabolic marvel. His system had burned through so much energy fighting off the Council’s rot and reinforcing his mother’s life that he was constantly hungry, his little body demanding fuel to maintain the Alpha strength he’d used as a shield before he was even born.
Jax moved to the side of the bed, his heart swelling. Despite the translucent paleness of her skin, Ginny radiated a light that no lab-grown poison could dim. She looked up at him, her eyes tired but sparking with a deep, soulful contentment.
"Look at him, Jax," she whispered, her voice stronger than it had been an hour ago. "He’s trying to eat the blanket now. I think he’s going to be more expensive to feed than the twins."
Jax let out a low, soft laugh, reaching down to stroke Iggy’s surprisingly strong little hand before letting his fingers trail over Ginny’s cheek. He thought of Veda’s words—about the foster homes, the fog, and the transition that was quietly beginning in her veins.
There wasn't a soul in that room—not Leela, not Sarah, and certainly not Elana—who could deny how happy she looked. It was a defiant kind of happiness, the kind that grew in the cracks of a broken world. She didn't look like a victim or a "specimen." She looked like a woman who had fought through the dark and finally found the sun.
"He’s a Blackwood," Jax rumbled, leaning down to press a lingering, reverent kiss to her forehead. "He’s got a lot of catching up to do."
Leela watched them from the chair by the window, her own elemental eyes shimmering with relief. She knew better than anyone the weight of the destiny they carried, but seeing Ginny so peaceful, even while her blood was quietly evolving, made the future feel less like a threat and more like a promise.
Jax settled into the chair beside the bed, his hand finding Ginny’s and locking tight. He wasn't just sitting with her; he was anchoring her. He knew the road ahead would be terrifying when the shift finally began, but looking at her now, surrounded by the family she had chosen and the son who had saved her, he knew she wouldn't be going into the unknown alone. She was already home.
Jax’s face instantly shifted from a smile to a look of pure, panicked regret. He hadn't meant to make it sound like a death sentence, but in his haste to get the words out, he’d managed to drain the color right back out of her cheeks.
"I have something to tell you," Jax began, his voice dropping into a serious, heavy tone as his eyes flicked toward Sloane, Leela, and Sarah. "And I don't know if you want me to tell you with everyone here..."
Ginny’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening with a flash of primal terror. "Oh, Goddess," she choked out, the tears already welling up. "I’m dying. I’m dying, aren't I?"
The sob that broke from her throat was like a knife to Jax’s chest. He reached for her, his hands hovering in mid-air as he tried to find the words to walk it back. "No! Ginny, no, that's not—"
"Jax, for the love of the moon, you were always one for telling news ass-backwards!"
The deep, steady voice of Fennigan boomed from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, having followed his brother back from the lab, and he looked at Jax with an expression of pure, brotherly exasperation.
"I would say we should wait for Elias and Veda," Fennigan said, stepping into the room to act as the voice of reason before Jax accidentally gave Ginny a heart attack. "But they are still deep in 'doctor talk' in the tech lab. Veda and Elias seem to be genuinely enjoying untying all the knots the Council left behind. It’s a mess of science and spirits in there."
Fennigan walked over to the other side of the bed, his presence calming the frantic energy in the room. He looked at Ginny, his golden eyes warm and certain.
"You aren't dying, Ginny," Fennigan said firmly, his voice cutting through her tears. "Quite the opposite. Jax just doesn't know how to tell you that you’ve done something no human has ever done before."
Jax blew out a breath, rubbing his hand over his face. He looked at Ginny, whose chest was still heaving with the remnants of her sob.
"I'm sorry, baby," Jax whispered, his voice trembling as he took her hand again. "I'm a fool. I was trying to find a way to tell you that you’re staying with us. Not just in this house, but... in the pack. Permanently."
Leela shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her senses picking up the shift in the air. She looked at Fennigan, then back at her best friend. "What did they find, Fenn? What did Veda see?"
"They found that Iggy is a protector," Fennigan explained, nodding toward the sleeping baby. "And that Ginny’s heart was already more wolf than human long before today. The transition has already started, Ginny. But it's not a rot. It's a gift. Iggy’s blood made sure of that."
The room went still, the only sound the soft, rhythmic breathing of the children. Ginny’s eyes moved from Jax’s desperate face to Fennigan’s weary one, her mind racing to keep up with words that sounded like they belonged in one of the myths Leela used to whisper about.
"Umm, Jax? I am here permanently," Ginny said, her voice trembling as she tried to find a sense of humor to shield her from the fear. "And what do you mean, Fenn? More wolf than human? A gift? Iggy’s blood?"
"Yeah, Fenn, what's going on?" Leela asked, her voice low but sharp. She shifted Briar, whose eyes were heavy, her little face pressed against her mother’s chest. Caspian was still perched on the edge of the bed next to Ginny, his small hand fisted in her shirt as if he could anchor her himself. Even Briar let out a tiny, sleepy mumble of "Yeah, Dada," wanting to be part of the circle.
Sloane stood by the window, silent and watchful. As the wife of a doctor who had seen the worst of humanity in sterile ERs, she was struck by the raw, fierce protectiveness in this room. This "monster" pack had more humanity in their pinky fingers than the people her husband had worked for his entire career.