I used to think I was the bridge between them.
That my body was the line holding Derek and Jax together, that my wolf stood in the middle and kept their shared soul from tearing itself apart.
I was wrong.
The change began quietly. No lightning. No prophecy. Just a shift in the air when we stood too close together. The bond no longer felt like tension being managed. It felt like knitting something.
Completing.
Derek noticed first, though he did not say it aloud. He has always been the quiet observer, the one who feels storms before clouds gather. Jax felt it next, and with him it came as irritation, like an itch under his skin he could not scratch.
For me, it felt like warmth.
When the three of us stood within arm’s reach, the space between our chests hummed. Not the sharp pull of ma
