CHAPTER 7 THE SCENT BETWEEN THEM
A week had passed since that night in Eli's cave.
A week of secret meetings at the neutral cave, of stolen hours that stretched longer each time.
Jace kept returning, pushing the boundaries of what he could reasonably claim to his mother.
Extended scouting expeditions. Mapping secondary territories. Investigating potential water sources.
Each excuse grew thinner. Each meeting became longer, more intimate, more necessary.
But tonight was different.
Eli had been waiting at their usual meeting spot when Jace arrived, but instead of pulling him immediately into the cave, Eli had caught his hand. "I want to show you something," he'd said. "Something I've never shown anyone."
Now they were hiking deep into Eli's territory—places Jace had never been, places Eli had never wanted to share with anyone.
They climbed higher, the forest growing thicker around them, the air cooler and cleaner.
Eli moved with the confidence of someone who knew every rock, every tree, every hidden path.
Jace followed, his curiosity building with each step.
They'd been walking for nearly an hour when Jace first heard it—not the gentle babble of the stream they'd bathed in before, but something more powerful. The deep, rushing sound of falling water.
Eli glanced back at him, something almost shy in his expression. "Almost there."
He led Jace through a dense wall of vegetation—blackberry brambles and wild roses that seemed deliberately placed to hide what lay beyond. Eli pushed through carefully, holding branches aside so Jace could follow without getting scratched.
And then the waterfall appeared.
Jace stopped dead, his breath catching.
It was massive—a cascade of water falling at least forty feet from a rocky cliff face into a crystalline pool below.
The pool itself was surrounded by smooth, water-worn stones and flowering plants that seemed impossibly out of place in this northern territory.
Wild orchids clung to the rocks. Moss covered everything in shades of emerald and jade.
The mist from the waterfall caught the late afternoon sunlight, creating rainbows that danced across the surface of the water.
It looked like something out of a dream. Like a place that shouldn't exist in the real world.
"How did you find this?" Jace breathed, unable to look away.
Eli moved to stand beside him, his shoulder brushing Jace's.
"I stumbled on it my first month here. I was running the territory boundaries, learning every inch of the land, and I heard the water.
" He paused. "I've been coming here ever since.
Alone. Every time I needed to remember there was beauty in this territory, not just isolation. "
He turned to look at Jace, and there was something vulnerable in his expression. "I wanted to share it with you."
Jace swallowed once before he trusted himself to answer. He understood what Eli was really saying—that this place was sacred to him, that bringing Jace here meant something. That Eli was letting him into the most private parts of his life, the places he'd kept hidden even from himself.
"It's perfect," Jace said. "Thank you for showing me."
Eli's hand found his, their fingers linking together. "Come on. The water's incredible."
They undressed without fanfare, comfortable with their bodies together now.
Jace had learned every scar on Eli's skin, every line of muscle, every place that made him gasp or groan.
And Eli had mapped Jace's body with the same thoroughness—the lean strength of his frame, the way his muscles moved beneath golden skin, the sensitive spots that made Jace arch and beg.
They were different in almost every way.
Jace was lithe where Eli was massive, dark where Eli was pale, graceful where Eli was powerful.
But somehow, standing naked beside the waterfall, they looked like they belonged together.
Like two predators in their natural element, perfectly matched despite their differences.
The water was cool but not cold, fed by mountain springs that kept it fresh and clean. Eli entered first, wading in until the water reached his waist, then turned back to offer Jace his hand.
Jace took it, stepping carefully over the smooth stones. The water rose quickly—to his thighs, his hips, his chest. By the time they reached the deeper section near the waterfall, Jace was treading water while Eli could still touch bottom.
The waterfall created a constant mist that clung to their skin, their hair, making everything feel dreamlike and unreal.
"This is incredible," Jace said, tilting his head back to float on the surface. The water held him easily, buoyant and gentle. "It feels like it's not part of the real world."
"That's why I come here," Eli said, watching Jace float with something like reverence in his eyes. "To remember what the real world forgot."
They floated together, their hands occasionally touching, the water carrying them in gentle circles. It was peaceful in a way their previous encounters hadn't been—less urgent, more intentional. There was no rush here, no fear of discovery, no need to hurry before one of them had to leave.
Just the two of them, the water, and the endless sound of the falls.
After a while, they made their way back to the rocks at the edge of the pool, pulling themselves up to sit in the mist. Jace leaned back against Eli's chest, Eli's arm coming around him automatically. The late afternoon sun was warm on their wet skin, and the mist kept them from getting cold.
"Tell me what you smell," Eli said.
It was a question that mattered. Scent was everything to shifters—identity, emotion, connection. And between them, scent had become something more.
Jace closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "You smell like the forest," he said.
"Like dark earth and pine and something wild underneath.
Something that makes my cat sit up and pay attention.
" He breathed again, deeper this time. "And underneath that, something uniquely you.
Something that smells like home even though I've never had a home like you. "
Eli's arm tightened around him. He buried his face in Jace's hair, inhaling. "You smell like sunlight," he murmured. "Like warmth and spice and something floral I can't name. Something that makes me want to keep you close forever."
He paused, his breath warm against Jace's neck. "But when we're together, it changes. Our scents mix and become something new. Something I've never smelled before."
"Something we couldn't make alone," Jace said, understanding flooding through him. "That's what I feel like. Like without you, I'm incomplete. Like our scents prove we're meant to be together."
Eli's hand came up to cup Jace's face, turning him so they could look at each other.
"The legends say that when this happens—when scent compatibility is this strong—it's magical.
That the bond transcends normal territorial law.
That what we create together is stronger than anything either of us could be alone. "
The oldest stories went further. They claimed bonds like that could change what a body believed was possible—heal what should not heal, bridge species that should never mix, even make bloodlines where no bloodline ought to exist. Eli had always dismissed that part as fireside superstition.
Now, with Jace's scent wrapped around him like a second pulse, superstition felt less easy to laugh at.
Jace did not laugh either. He only touched his own stomach for the briefest, strangest second, as if the story had brushed against a door neither of them knew how to open yet. Then his hand fell away, and the moment passed too quickly for either of them to name.
Jace searched Eli's eyes. "Do you believe that?"
"I didn't," Eli admitted. "I thought it was just stories. But now..." He stroked his thumb across Jace's cheekbone. "Now I think maybe the legends were right."
Jace shifted, turning fully to face Eli. Water still clung to both their bodies, catching the light. He lifted his wrist slowly, deliberately, and held it to Eli's nose.
"Smell me," he said. "Really smell me. Not just the surface. Everything underneath."
Eli's eyes darkened, but he leaned in, pressing his nose to the delicate skin of Jace's inner wrist. He inhaled deeply, and Jace watched his pupils dilate, watched his entire body respond to the scent.
"God," Eli breathed. "You're—"
"What?" Jace prompted. "What do you smell?"
"Everything," Eli said roughly. "I smell your arousal. Your trust. Your—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "Your love. I can smell that you love me."
Jace's breath stalled. He hadn't said it out loud yet, hadn't been ready to make himself that vulnerable. But Eli was right—his scent gave him away, broadcasting emotions he couldn't hide.
"Yes," Jace said simply. "I do."
Eli made a sound low in his throat—something between a growl and a whimper. He pulled Jace closer, burying his face in the curve of Jace's neck, breathing him in like he was drowning and Jace was air.
"I need to mark you," Eli said against his skin. "Not possessively. Not to claim you. But to—to blend with you. To make our scents inseparable."
"Yes," Jace said immediately. "Please."
Eli's mouth found the pulse point in Jace's throat, and he pressed his face there, rubbing gently. It was intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex—this was about scent, about identity, about creating something together that neither could create alone.
He moved slowly, deliberately, rubbing his face along Jace's collarbone, his shoulder, down his arm. Everywhere Eli touched, he left his scent behind—that dark, wild forest smell mixing with Jace's sun-warmed spice.