CHAPTER 10 THE OTHER WOLF
Two days had passed since Jace left, and Eli was losing his mind.
He'd spent the first day pacing the cave, trying to convince himself that three days was nothing. That Jace would come back. That the bond between them was strong enough to survive a temporary separation.
By the second day, he'd given up on staying still. He ranged the boundaries obsessively, checking territorial markers, reinforcing scent marks that didn't need reinforcing, listening for any sound that might signal Jace's return.
Today—the third day—should have brought relief. Jace had promised three days. Three days, and he'd come back.
But the sun was already past its zenith, and there was no sign of him.
Eli stood at the northern boundary in human form, his skin prickling with anxiety. Every instinct he had was screaming that something was wrong. That Jace should be here by now. That the silence meant danger.
He was about to shift and run another patrol when the wind changed direction.
And he smelled it.
Wolf.
Not Jace. Not a scent he recognized. A strange male wolf, and the scent was fresh—minutes old, maybe less.
Someone had crossed into his territory.
Eli's vision went red at the edges. His wolf surged forward, demanding immediate action, immediate violence. This was his land. No other wolf entered without permission. No other wolf—
But underneath the territorial rage was something worse. Something that made his chest tight and his hands shake.
Fear.
What if this wolf had seen Jace? What if something had happened at the pride, and this was a messenger? What if Jace had decided not to come back and sent someone else to deliver the news?
What if Jace was hurt?
The paranoia spiraled through him, feeding the rage, making it sharper and more dangerous. Eli shifted to wolf form in a single fluid motion, his massive gray body hitting the ground already running.
He followed the scent trail north, his paws silent on the forest floor. The intruder had moved through his territory with casual confidence—not the careful, respectful path of someone asking permission, but the easy stride of someone who thought the land was open.
That made it worse.
Eli's lips pulled back from his teeth as he ran, a low growl building in his chest. Whoever this wolf was, he was about to learn a very painful lesson about territorial law.
The trail led to the ancient oak clearing—the same place where Eli had first caught Jace. The symbolism wasn't lost on him, and it made his rage burn hotter.
The strange wolf was there, in human form, examining the massive oak tree with casual interest. He was younger than Eli—early twenties, maybe—with shaggy brown hair and a lean, scarred build. Not as massive as Eli, but clearly experienced enough to have survived some fights.
Eli shifted to human form mid-stride, his body rippling with barely controlled fury.
"You crossed a marked boundary," he snarled, his voice coming out rough and dangerous. "That's a declaration of war."
The young wolf spun around, his eyes going wide. For a beat, he just stared at Eli—taking in the size of him, the scars, the absolute fury radiating from every line of his body.
Then his hands came up in a placating gesture, and he took a careful step back.
"Easy," he said, steady despite the fear Eli could smell on him. "I'm just passing through. No territory claim, no aggression. I didn't realize this land was occupied."
Eli's laugh was bitter and sharp. "You didn't realize? My marks are everywhere. Which means you weren't looking hard enough. Or you're lying."
The wolf took another step back, and Eli could see him calculating his chances if this turned into a fight. The answer was clearly not good, because his posture shifted into something more submissive.
"Look," he said carefully, "I'm sorry. I genuinely didn't see recent marks. I thought this territory was open—there's been talk in the northern packs that the lone wolf who claimed this land three years ago had moved on."
"Well, I haven't," Eli said flatly. "And now you're going to tell me who sent you. Are you scouting for a pack? What's your territory? Who told you this land was open?"
The questions came rapid-fire, Eli's jealousy and possessiveness spiraling out of control. Because if the northern packs thought his territory was vulnerable, that meant they'd been watching. Waiting. Looking for weakness.
And Jace—Jace was his weakness. Everyone would know that now.
"No one sent me," the wolf said, genuine fear sharpening the words now. "I'm a lone wolf, same as you. I've been traveling for months, looking for unclaimed territory. I swear, I had no idea this land was occupied. Your scent markers must have faded, or—"
"My markers don't fade," Eli interrupted, taking a step forward. The wolf immediately took two steps back. "I refresh them weekly. You crossed a clearly marked boundary, which means you're either incompetent or you're lying. So which is it?"
The young wolf's jaw clenched. "I'm not lying. And I'm leaving. Right now. No harm done."
He started to turn away, but Eli's voice stopped him.
"Did you see anyone else in this territory? A cougar shifter, male, golden fur?"
The wolf's confusion was genuine. "A cougar? No. Why would a—" He stopped, his eyes widening slightly as understanding dawned. "Oh. Oh. You're bonded to a cat?"
Eli's hands clenched into fists. "That's none of your business."
"Right. Of course." The wolf held up his hands again. "Look, I didn't see anyone. I've been in your territory for maybe twenty minutes, and I'm leaving now. I'm sorry for the intrusion."
He shifted to wolf form and took off running, heading north at a dead sprint.
Eli watched him go, his chest heaving, his entire body coated in sweat and shaking with adrenaline.
He should feel victorious. He'd defended his territory. He'd driven off an intruder. He'd done exactly what an alpha was supposed to do.
Instead, he felt sick.
Because he realized the fear underneath all that rage: What if Jace doesn't come back?
What if this was what territorial law actually meant—constant threat, constant vigilance, constant fear of loss? What if loving Jace meant spending the rest of his life terrified that someone would take him away?
Eli shifted back to wolf form and ran. He didn't know where he was going—just away from the clearing, away from the reminder of his own paranoia, away from the crushing weight of his fear.
He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached, and even then, he couldn't outrun the truth.
He was terrified. And that terror was making him dangerous.
Hours later, as sunset painted the sky in shades of gold and amber, Eli finally made his way back to the southern boundary.
He was still in wolf form, pacing restlessly along the territorial line, when he caught the scent.
Jace.
Eli's head snapped up, his entire body going rigid. The scent was fresh—minutes old—and it was coming from the west.
He shifted to human form without thinking, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.
And then Jace appeared through the trees.
He was in human form, looking tired and travel-worn, his clothes dusty from the journey. But he was here. He was real. He'd come back.
Eli was moving before he could think, crossing the distance between them in three long strides. His hands came up to grip Jace's face, tilting it up, and then his mouth was on Jace's—desperate and claiming and verifying that this was real, that Jace was actually here.
"You came back," Eli said against Jace's lips, and there was something almost broken in his voice. "You came back."
"Of course I came back," Jace said slightly muffled against Eli's mouth. He pulled back enough to look at Eli's face, confusion flickering in his amber eyes. "I said I would. But Eli, something happened with my mother—"
"I don't care," Eli said, which was clearly a lie because his hands were shaking where they gripped Jace's face. "You're here. You smell like pride territory and not enough like me."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning Jace's body like he was checking for injuries. "Did anyone touch you? Any of your pride males try to claim you while you were gone?"
Jace's eyes narrowed. "What? No. Eli, what is this about?"
But Eli could feel his jealousy radiating off him in waves, could feel his wolf demanding that he mark Jace immediately, thoroughly, until there was no question who he belonged to.
"Eli," Jace said more firmly, pulling out of his grip. "What happened?"
They made it back to the cave before Eli finally explained.
Jace sat on the furs, watching Eli pace back and forth across the small space like a caged animal. His anxiety was palpable, filling the cave with tension.
"A wolf crossed the boundary today," Eli finally said, each word tight. "A young male, claimed he was just passing through. Said he didn't see my territorial markers."
Jace frowned. "Did you believe him?"
"I don't know," Eli admitted. "Maybe. But that's not the point. The point is—" He stopped pacing and turned to face Jace. "You left, and immediately some wolf tries to claim my territory. That's no coincidence. Your mother sent him to test my defenses. Or—"
His mind went darker, spiraling into paranoia.
"—she's planning something. She's going to try to take this territory once she knows I'm distracted with you. She's going to use our bond as leverage, as weakness—"
"Eli, stop." Jace stood up, his voice calm but firm. "That's not what's happening. My mother doesn't know about us yet. I was trying to figure out how to tell her when I got back."
But Eli wasn't listening. He was spiraling, his wolf taking over, his fear manifesting as aggression.
"This is why cross-species bonds are taboo," he said bitterly. "Because they make you weak. I'm obsessed with keeping you safe, and that means I can't focus on defending my territory. It makes me vulnerable. It makes us vulnerable."
Jace stared at him for a beat, his expression unreadable.
"So what are you saying?" he asked.