CHAPTER 6 THE ALPHA WHO WALKED AWAY #2
"You should have nothing," Jace interrupted.
"You were part of a pack structure that was cruel and hierarchical.
Marcus wanted power and thought fighting for it was legitimate.
Owen accepted that challenge. These weren't your failures, Eli.
These were the failures of a system that valued force over sense. "
Eli stared at him, something tight and painful loosening in his chest.
"You exiled yourself because you couldn't trust yourself to lead," Jace continued.
"Couldn't trust your instincts. Couldn't be around hierarchies where one person's ambition could destroy everything.
" His thumb stroked across Eli's cheekbone.
"But that doesn't make you a coward. That makes you someone who recognized a broken system and chose not to perpetuate it. "
"I abandoned them," Eli said, but his voice was weaker now.
"You saved yourself," Jace corrected. "And maybe that was the only thing you could do."
Eli closed his eyes, leaning into Jace's touch. Three years of guilt sat heavy in his chest, but for the first time, it felt like maybe—maybe—it wasn't entirely his to carry.
"Until now," Jace said. "Until you."
Eli opened his eyes. "What?"
"You've been alone for three years because you were afraid of what you might become in a pack structure," Jace said. "But this—us—this isn't a pack. This is something different. Something you get to choose."
The words settled over Eli like a blanket. Something he got to choose. Not something dictated by hierarchy or tradition or the brutal logic of force. Just... a choice.
Jace leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Eli's mouth. "You're safe with me," he murmured against Eli's lips. "You can let go."
And something in Eli broke open.
Jace kissed him slowly, thoroughly, his hands sliding into Eli's hair.
This wasn't the desperate urgency of their previous encounters.
This was deliberate. Intentional. Jace was taking his time, and Eli realized with a jolt that Jace was doing this for him—offering comfort, offering acceptance, offering a kind of intimacy that had nothing to do with force or ownership.
"Jace," Eli breathed, but he didn't know what he was asking for.
"I've got you," Jace said simply. He pulled back slightly, his hands moving to the hem of Eli's shirt. "Can I?"
Eli nodded, not trusting his voice.
Jace pulled the shirt over Eli's head slowly, his eyes tracking across Eli's chest and shoulders. His fingers found the long scar across Eli's ribs—the one from the pack collapse, from a fight Eli had broken up between two lower-ranked wolves who'd been tearing each other apart over territory.
Jace leaned down and kissed it.
The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, that Eli's breath stalled in his throat.
"You carry your pack on your skin," Jace murmured, his lips moving across the scar. "Every wound, every fight, every failure you think you're responsible for." He looked up, meeting Eli's eyes. "But you're not responsible for all of it, Eli. You're just one person."
Eli's hands came up to cup Jace's face, his thumbs stroking across Jace's cheekbones. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted. "How to let someone in without trying to control them."
"Then let me show you," Jace said. He pushed gently at Eli's chest. "Lie down."
Eli's wolf instinct immediately resisted—alphas didn't lie down, didn't surrender position, didn't make themselves vulnerable. But he forced himself to comply, lowering himself onto the furs, his muscles tense.
Jace straddled his hips, looking down at him with something that looked like reverence. "You're so beautiful," he said. "And you have no idea, do you?"
Eli didn't know how to respond to that. He'd been called strong, dangerous, intimidating. Never beautiful.
Jace leaned down, kissing along Eli's collarbone, his hands roaming across Eli's chest. "I'm going to take care of you," he murmured. "And you're going to let me. You're going to surrender control, just for tonight, and let someone else carry the weight."
"I don't know if I can," Eli whispered.
"Try," Jace said simply. "For me."
Eli's hands came up to rest on Jace's hips, not controlling, just holding. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay."
Jace smiled—soft and warm and full of affection—and then he began his exploration.
He kissed down Eli's chest, his tongue tracing the lines of muscle and scar tissue. Every old wound, every mark of violence, Jace treated with tenderness. His hands were gentle but firm, mapping Eli's body like he was memorizing it.
When Jace's mouth reached the waistband of Eli's pants, he looked up. "Can I take these off?"
"Yes," Eli managed.
Jace stripped him slowly, his eyes dark with want but also something deeper. When Eli was finally naked beneath him, Jace sat back on his heels, just looking.
"What?" Eli asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"You're perfect," Jace said simply. "And I want you to feel that. I want you to feel wanted, not just needed. Not just claimed. Wanted."
Eli had to look away before the feeling showed too clearly. He didn't have words for what that meant to him.
Jace stripped off his own clothes with less ceremony, then settled back over Eli, skin to skin. The contact was electric—Eli's cock was already hard, pressing against Jace's hip, but Jace didn't rush. He just kissed Eli slowly, deeply, his hands stroking through Eli's hair.
"You're safe," Jace murmured against Eli's mouth. "You're allowed to feel this. You're allowed to want this."
"I do," Eli said, breaking on the words. "I do want this. I want you."
"Then let me give it to you," Jace said.
He reached for the small pack he'd brought, pulling out a vial of oil. Eli watched as Jace slicked his fingers, then reached behind himself. Jace's eyes fluttered closed as he prepared himself, his breath coming faster, and Eli's hands tightened on Jace's hips.
"Let me," Eli said roughly. "Let me help."
Jace's eyes opened, meeting his. "You want to?"
"Yes," Eli said. "Please."
Jace guided Eli's hand, showing him how to touch, how to stretch, how to prepare. It was intimate in a way that had nothing to do with force—this was trust, pure and simple. Jace was letting Eli inside his body, inside his defenses, inside the careful walls he'd built.
When Jace finally sank down onto Eli's cock, they both groaned. The sensation was overwhelming—tight and hot and perfect. But more than that, it was the look in Jace's eyes. Open. Vulnerable. Trusting.
"You feel so good," Jace breathed, his hands braced on Eli's chest. "So perfect."
Eli's hands gripped Jace's hips, but he didn't try to control the pace. He let Jace set the rhythm, let Jace take what he needed. And what Jace needed, apparently, was slow. Deliberate. Every roll of his hips was measured, intentional, designed to make them both feel every inch of connection.
"Look at me," Jace said.
Eli met his eyes, and something in his chest cracked open. This wasn't just sex. This was Jace seeing him—all of him, including the broken parts—and choosing to stay anyway.
"You're not alone anymore," Jace said, steady even as his body moved. "You don't have to carry everything by yourself."
Eli's vision blurred. He realized with shock that he was crying—tears sliding down his temples into his hair. He tried to turn his head away, ashamed, but Jace caught his face in both hands.
"Don't," Jace said firmly. "Don't hide from me. I want all of you, Eli. Even this."
"I don't—" Eli's voice broke. "I don't know how to do this."
"You're doing it right now," Jace said. He leaned down, kissing the tears from Eli's face. "You're letting me in. You're trusting me. That's all I need."
Eli's hands slid up Jace's back, pulling him closer. Jace adjusted the angle, and suddenly Eli was hitting that perfect spot inside him that made Jace gasp and shudder.
"There," Jace breathed. "Right there."
Eli thrust up carefully, watching Jace's face for every reaction. Jace's head fell back, his mouth open, his body moving in perfect rhythm with Eli's. The firelight painted him in gold and shadow, and Eli thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful.
"Touch yourself," Eli said roughly. "I want to watch you."
Jace's hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking in time with their movements. The sight of it—Jace pleasuring himself while riding Eli's cock—sent a bolt of heat straight through Eli's spine.
"I'm close," Jace gasped. "Eli, I'm so close—"
"Come for me," Eli said, his hands tightening on Jace's hips. "Let me see you."
Jace came with a broken cry, his body clenching around Eli's cock, his release spilling across Eli's stomach. The sensation pushed Eli over the edge—he thrust up hard, burying himself deep as his orgasm crashed through him.
For a breath, they were both suspended in that perfect space where nothing existed except each other.
Then Jace collapsed forward, his head resting on Eli's chest, both of them breathing hard. Eli's arms came up automatically, wrapping around Jace and holding him close.
"Thank you," Eli said.
Jace lifted his head, looking at him with soft eyes. "For what?"
"For seeing me," Eli said. "For not running."
Jace smiled, pressing a kiss to Eli's chest. "I'm not going anywhere."
They lay tangled close in the furs, the fire burning low beside them. Eli felt wrung out—emotionally and physically exhausted in a way that was almost cleansing. He'd told Jace everything. Shown him the worst parts of himself. And Jace had stayed.
"You're going to have to forgive yourself eventually," Jace said, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Eli's chest.
"I know," Eli said. "But not tonight."
"Not tonight," Jace agreed. "Tonight you just have to accept that you deserved better. That your pack deserved better. That Marcus made his choices and you made yours."
He kissed Eli's chest, right over his heart. "And now you're choosing this. Choosing me. Choosing to try again."
Eli tangled his fingers in Jace's hair, breathing in his scent—that perfect blend of sun and spice that had become synonymous with safety. "I'm terrified I'll fuck this up too."
"You might," Jace said honestly. "We both might. But we get to choose that risk. That's different from the pack. That's different from hierarchy and force and all the bullshit that destroyed your family."
He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Eli seriously. "This is just you and me. Equal. Partners. And if we fuck it up, we fuck it up together."
Eli pulled him down for a kiss—slow and deep and full of everything he couldn't say out loud yet. When they broke apart, Jace settled back against his chest, and Eli felt something he hadn't felt in three years.
Peace.
Not the hollow peace of isolation. Not the false peace of avoidance. But real peace—the kind that came from being truly known and accepted anyway.
As Eli drifted toward sleep, Jace's weight warm and solid against him, he began to believe that maybe healing wasn't about isolation. Maybe it was about trusting the right person enough to let them close.
And maybe—just maybe—he'd finally found someone he could trust.