CHAPTER 9 THREE DAYS OF HUNTING #2
The second day dawned with a light mist hanging over the forest, turning everything soft and dreamlike. Eli woke to find Jace already up, standing at the cave entrance and looking out over the territory with an expression Eli couldn't quite read.
"What's wrong?" Eli asked, sitting up in the furs.
Jace turned, and there was something troubled in his bright eyes. "Nothing. Just thinking."
Eli stood and moved to join him, wrapping his arms around Jace from behind. "About what?"
Jace leaned back into the embrace, but his body was tense. "About how long I've been gone. My mother will be expecting me back soon."
Eli's arms tightened reflexively. "How soon?"
"Two days, maybe three," Jace said. "I told her I'd be scouting for a week. It's been almost that already."
Something cold settled in Eli's gut. "You're not going back."
Jace stiffened. "Eli—"
"No," Eli said, sharper than he intended. "You're not leaving. You're staying here. With me."
Jace pulled away from his embrace, turning to face him with a flash of irritation in his eyes. "I don't have a choice. If I just disappear, my mother will think something happened to me. She'll send hunters."
"Let her," Eli said, his wolf rising to the surface. "This is my territory. I'll defend it."
"Against my entire pride?" Jace's voice rose slightly. "Eli, be reasonable. I have to go back, at least to explain—"
"Explain what?" Eli demanded. "That you've bonded with a wolf? That you're choosing me over your family? She'll forbid it. She'll lock you down. You'll never be allowed to leave again."
"You don't know that," Jace said, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
"I do know that," Eli said flatly. "Because that's what alphas do. What matriarchs do. They control their people. They don't let them make choices that threaten the pack structure."
Jace's eyes flashed gold. "My mother isn't like that."
"Isn't she?" Eli challenged. "You said yourself she controls where you go, who you see, what missions you're allowed to take. That's not freedom, Jace. That's a cage with a longer leash."
Jace's jaw clenched. "She's protecting the pride. It's different."
"It's not different," Eli said. "It's the same thing I ran from. The same hierarchy, the same control, just wrapped in different words."
They stared at each other, the tension crackling between them. Finally, Jace looked away.
"I still have to go back," he said. "Even if you're right. I have to try."
Eli wanted to argue more, wanted to forbid it, wanted to lock Jace in the cave and never let him leave. But he could see the determination in Jace's eyes, and he knew that pushing harder would only drive a wedge between them.
"Fine," he said, the word coming out clipped. "But not yet. We still have today."
Jace nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Today. And tomorrow. Then I'll go."
"And you'll come back," Eli said, making it a statement rather than a question.
"I'll come back," Jace promised.
But neither of them was entirely sure he'd be able to keep that promise.
They hunted again that morning, trying to recapture the easy coordination of the day before. And physically, they were still perfectly in sync—Jace's speed complementing Eli's strength, their movements flowing together like they'd been doing this for years instead of days.
But emotionally, something had shifted. The shadow of Jace's impending departure hung over them, making every moment feel weighted with significance.
They brought down a young buck together, the kill clean and efficient. But when they shifted back to human form, standing over their prey, the satisfaction felt hollow.
"Two more days," Jace said, as if reading Eli's thoughts.
"Two more days," Eli echoed, and it sounded like a death sentence.
***
Back at the cave, the tension between them had transformed into something else—something desperate and hungry and edged with fear. Eli couldn't stop touching Jace, couldn't stop pulling him close, as if physical contact could somehow prevent the inevitable separation.
Jace seemed to feel it too. He pressed against Eli with an urgency that bordered on frantic, his hands roaming over Eli's body like he was trying to memorize every inch of skin.
"Eli," Jace breathed against his mouth. "I need—"
"I know," Eli said roughly. "I know what you need."
He pushed Jace down onto the furs, covering his body with his own. There was no playfulness now, no teasing or gentle exploration. This was raw need, the desperate attempt to claim and be claimed before time ran out.
Eli positioned himself between Jace's legs, his cock already hard and leaking. He should prepare Jace properly, should take his time, but the wolf in him was howling with possessive need.
"Now," Jace said, reading his hesitation. "I can take it. I want it."
Eli slicked himself quickly with oil from the supplies they kept by the furs, then pressed into Jace in one long, claiming thrust. Jace's back arched off the furs, his mouth falling open on a gasp that was half pleasure, half pain.
"Too much?" Eli forced himself to ask, even though his wolf was screaming at him to move, to claim, to mark.
"No," Jace gasped. "Perfect. Move. Please, Eli, move."
Eli moved.
He fucked into Jace with deep, powerful thrusts, his hands gripping Jace's hips hard enough to leave bruises. Jace wrapped his legs around Eli's waist, meeting each thrust with his own upward movement, taking Eli as deep as physically possible.
"Mine," Eli growled against Jace's throat, the word torn from him without conscious thought. "Say it. Say you're mine."
Jace hesitated for just a moment—this was the claiming language they'd agreed to move away from. But he also understood what Eli needed right now, understood the fear driving this desperate coupling.
"Yours," Jace said, breaking on the word. "I'm yours, Eli."
But then his hands came up to grip Eli's face, forcing him to meet his eyes. "And you're mine. Say it. Say you're mine too."
Eli's rhythm faltered for just a moment. This was different from the traditional claiming—this was mutual, reciprocal, equal. "I'm yours," he said, and meant it with every fiber of his being. "Just as much as you're mine."
The words seemed to satisfy something in both of them.
Eli's thrusts became harder, deeper, more desperate.
Jace's claws came out again, leaving fresh marks on Eli's shoulders and back.
They moved in tandem with frantic intensity, both chasing release and trying to delay it, wanting this moment to last forever.
"Close," Jace gasped. "Eli, I'm so close—"
"Come for me," Eli demanded, one hand wrapping around Jace's cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. "Want to feel you."
Jace came with a cry, his body clenching around Eli's cock, his release spilling over Eli's hand. The sensation triggered Eli's own orgasm—he thrust deep one final time, grinding against Jace as he emptied himself, marking Jace from the inside out.
They collapsed together, both trembling and breathless. Eli stayed buried inside Jace, not ready to break the connection, not ready to face the reality waiting outside this moment.
Jace traced patterns over Eli's sweat-slicked back. "You know I do."
"I know," Eli said, emotion roughening the words. "That's why I'm so fucking terrified of losing you."
Jace pulled him down for a kiss—slow and deep and full of everything they couldn't say out loud. When they finally broke apart, Jace's eyes were suspiciously bright.
"You're not going to lose me," he said. "I promise."
But they both knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.
***
They lay tangled close in the furs as the sun set, neither wanting to move, neither wanting to acknowledge that their time was running out. Finally, Jace broke the silence.
"We need to talk about what comes next," he said.
Eli's arms tightened around him. "I don't want to talk about you leaving."
"But I have to," Jace said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Eli. "We both know this. My mother will figure it out soon—I've been gone too long, I smell like wolf, my entire demeanor has changed. When she finds out I've bonded with you..."
He trailed off, but they both knew what he wasn't saying. Cross-species bonds were taboo. Matriarchs didn't allow their pride members to bond outside the group. The consequences would be severe.
"Then we face it together," Eli said stubbornly. "You stay here. We defend this territory together. We build something new."
Jace's expression was pained. "Eli, I can't. Not yet. I need to go back, try to explain, prepare her. If I just disappear, she'll think I'm dead or taken. She'll declare war on your territory trying to find me."
Eli sat up, his mouth hardened with frustration. "So what? You go back and convince her to let you stay here? That's not going to happen. Your pride sees me as a threat. They'll see our bond as a betrayal."
"I know," Jace said, sitting up to face him. "But I have to try. And I need you to understand that this isn't me choosing the pride over you. This is me trying to find a way to have both."
"You can't have both," Eli said flatly. "She'll forbid the bond. She'll restrict your movement. You'll become a prisoner."
Jace's eyes flashed with frustration. "Maybe. But if I don't try, if I just abandon my family without explanation, I'll resent you eventually. I need to know I tried everything. I need to know I gave them a chance to accept this."
Eli looked at him for a handful of seconds, his chest tight with fear and anger and helpless frustration. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to forbid this, to keep Jace here by force if necessary.
But he'd promised to be a partner, not a captor. He'd promised to respect Jace's choices, even when they terrified him.
"Okay," he finally said, the word feeling like it was being torn from his chest. "Three days. You go back. You talk to your mother. You try to make her understand."
"And then I come back to you," Jace finished. "I swear it, Eli. No matter what she says, no matter what consequences there are, I will come back to you."
"You better," Eli said roughly, pulling Jace against his chest. "Because if you don't, I'm coming after you. Territory laws be damned."
Jace laughed, but it sounded suspiciously like a sob. "I know you will. That's one of the things I love about you."
They held on as darkness fell, both trying not to think about what the next few days would bring.
***
Their last morning together dawned clear and cold. They woke before sunrise, neither having slept well, both hyperaware that this was their final hunt before Jace had to leave.
They shifted to animal form without speaking, the bond between them humming with unspoken emotion. Eli's wolf was restless, agitated, wanting to grab Jace and drag him back to the den and never let him leave. Jace's cougar was tense too, torn between duty and desire.
But when they started moving through the forest, something shifted. The coordination they'd built over the past two days took over, and suddenly they were moving as one unit—perfectly synchronized, anticipating each other's movements before they happened.
They found a small herd of deer grazing near the eastern ridge. Without needing to communicate, they split up—Jace circling wide to the left, Eli approaching from the right. They drove the herd toward a narrow ravine, working together to separate a young buck from the group.
The kill was clean, efficient, beautiful in its execution. They stood over their prey, both breathing hard, both feeling the rightness of what they'd just accomplished.
We're perfect together, Jace said through the bond, his mental voice full of wonder and sadness.
I know, Eli responded. That's why this is so hard.
They shifted back to human form and made their way back to the cave in silence, both carrying pieces of the kill. When they reached the den, they set the meat aside and came together one last time.
This wasn't the frantic coupling of the day before. This was slow, deliberate, reverent. They touched each other with careful attention, memorizing textures and tastes, the sounds each other made, the way their bodies fit together.
Jace rode Eli slowly, his hands braced on Eli's chest, his eyes locked on Eli's face. There was no urgency, no desperation—just connection. Just love.
"I'm going to miss this," Jace said, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. "Miss you."
"Three days," Eli reminded him, his hands gripping Jace's hips gently. "Just three days."
"Three days," Jace echoed, but they both knew it might be longer. Might be forever, if things went badly.
They came together slowly, quietly, holding each other through the aftershocks. Afterward, they lay tangled in the furs, neither wanting to move, neither wanting to acknowledge that the sun was rising and time was running out.
Finally, Jace stirred. "I have to go," he said.
Eli's arms tightened around him reflexively. "I know."
They dressed in silence, both moving slowly, drawing out these final moments. When they were ready, they walked together to the territorial boundary—the invisible line that separated Eli's land from the neutral zone between territories.
They shifted to animal form one last time—Eli's massive wolf, Jace's sleek cougar. They stood facing each other, and Eli felt his heart breaking.
Three days, Jace said through the bond, pressing his forehead against Eli's. I promise. Three days and I'll come back.
I'll be waiting, Eli responded, trying to memorize the feel of Jace against him, the scent of him, the warmth of his presence in the bond.
Jace pulled back, his golden gaze meeting Eli's. Then he turned and started running toward the western forest, toward his pride's territory, toward an uncertain future.
Eli watched until Jace disappeared into the trees. Then he threw his head back and howled—a long, mournful sound that echoed through both territories, carrying his grief and fear and desperate hope.
He shifted back to human form and stood at the boundary for a long time, staring at the place where Jace had vanished.
Three days.
He could survive three days.
He had to.
Because the alternative—that Jace wouldn't come back, that this was the last time he'd see him—was unthinkable.
Eli turned and walked back to his cave, already counting the hours until he'd see Jace again.
The territory felt empty without him. The silence that had once been peaceful now felt oppressive. The solitude that had once been freedom now felt like a prison.
Three days, Eli told himself.
Just three days.
He could do this.
He had to.