CHAPTER 11 THE PRIDE CALLS
A week had passed since the jealousy incident, and Eli was learning.
It wasn't easy—his wolf instincts still screamed at him to mark, to claim, to possess—but he was trying. And Jace noticed. The way Eli asked instead of demanded. The way he touched with open hands instead of gripping fingers. The way he said "I love you" instead of "you're mine."
They'd fallen into a rhythm that felt almost domestic.
Hunting together at dawn, the coordination between them now instinctive.
Afternoons spent exploring the territory, Jace pointing out strategic advantages Eli had never considered.
Evenings by the fire, talking about everything and nothing—Jace's childhood in the pride, Eli's memories of the pack before it fell apart, their hopes for what they were building together.
And the nights. God, the nights were perfect.
Not just the sex—though that was incredible, intense and tender by turns—but the intimacy of falling asleep curled close. The trust of vulnerability. The peace of knowing someone chose to stay.
Tonight, Jace was curled against Eli's chest, one leg thrown over Eli's hip, his breathing deep and even. Eli's hand rested on the small of Jace's back, his thumb tracing idle patterns on warm skin.
This was what happiness felt like, Eli thought. This quiet, simple moment of connection.
And then Jace's entire body went rigid.
Eli felt it immediately—the sudden tension, the sharp intake of breath, the way Jace's fingers clenched against his ribs.
"Jace?" Eli said, instantly alert. "What's wrong?"
But Jace didn't respond. His eyes were open but unfocused, staring at nothing, and Eli recognized the look immediately.
Pride call.
The psychic connection that bonded family members used for urgent communication. Eli had seen it once before, years ago, when a wolf from his old pack received word that his mate had been injured.
Jace's expression shifted through several emotions in rapid succession—confusion, concern, fear, and finally something that looked like resignation.
The connection lasted maybe thirty seconds. Then Jace blinked, his eyes refocusing, and he carefully extracted himself from Eli's arms.
"Jace," Eli said again, sitting up. His heart was already pounding. "What happened?"
Jace moved to the edge of their sleeping area and sat with his back to Eli, his shoulders tense.
"My mother," he said. "She called. The pride is under threat—territorial pressure from the north. She's asking me to come back."
The words hit Eli like a physical blow.
"No," he said immediately. It wasn't a question or a negotiation. A statement of fact.
Jace turned to look at him, and Eli could see the conflict written across his face.
"Eli—"
"No," Eli repeated, more firmly. He stood up, agitation making it impossible to stay still. "We just got past this. You're not leaving again."
Jace's ears seemed to angle back even in human form. "My family is under threat. My mother is asking for my help."
"Your family exiled you," Eli said, and he could hear the edge in his own voice. "They made it clear you're 'other' now. You don't owe them anything."
"They're still my family," Jace said, and there was steel underneath the softness. "And they need me. What if the northern pack isn't just encroaching? What if they're actually invading? What if my mother needs me and I'm not there?"
Eli paced across the cave, his hands clenching and unclenching. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to forbid this, to demand Jace stay, to use every tool at his disposal to keep him here.
But he'd promised. He'd promised to trust instead of control.
"Then what?" he asked, the words scraping out of him. "You go back, help them defend their territory, and what? You don't come back? Or you get trapped in pride politics again?"
His fear was visible and raw, and he hated himself for it.
Jace stood and crossed to him, reaching for his hands. "Eli, I would come back. I would always come back to you."
"Promise," Eli said immediately, gripping Jace's hands hard enough that it had to hurt. "Promise me you'll come back."
Jace met his eyes directly. "I promise. I swear it on our bond."
Jace pulled his hands free gently and moved to where his clothes were folded near the cave entrance. He began dressing slowly, deliberately, and Eli watched with a sick feeling in his stomach.
"I have to go," Jace said, not looking at him. "Not because I want to, but because if I don't, I'll always wonder if my mother needed me and I wasn't there. And that will poison what we have."
Eli crossed the cave in three strides and pulled Jace back against his chest, wrapping his arms around him from behind.
"How long?" he asked, his voice muffled against Jace's hair.
"A few days, maybe a week. Just long enough to help coordinate defenses and make sure they're not in immediate danger."
Jace turned in Eli's arms to face him. "But I need you to understand: I'm not doing this to leave you. I'm doing this to honor my family without breaking my commitment to you."
Eli's expression was tortured—he understood intellectually, but emotionally he was terrified.
"Okay," he said finally. "Okay. But we do this differently than before. You don't just disappear and leave me wondering. We coordinate. We set a date for your return. We make sure I know you're safe."
Jace nodded. "I can do that. I'll send word through the bond every night so you know I'm okay. And I'll be back in five days maximum."
"Five days," Eli repeated, pulling Jace closer. He buried his face in Jace's hair, breathing in his scent—sunlight and spice and home. "I can do five days."
But his voice suggested he was trying to convince himself.
Jace pulled back enough to look at Eli's face. "We have tonight," he said. "I don't have to leave until dawn."
Something shifted in Eli's expression—fear giving way to determination.
"Then we're not wasting time sleeping," he said, and kissed Jace deeply.
Eli guided Jace back to their sleeping area and pulled him down onto the furs. The kiss was different from their previous passion—there was no urgency of lust, just urgency of time.
His hands moved over Jace's body slowly, reverently, as if he was mapping every inch of him.
"I love you," Eli said between kisses, his lips trailing down Jace's throat. "Every version of you. The fierce one who challenges me. The scared one who's figuring out what he wants. The loyal one who goes back to his family even when it costs him."
Jace's hands gripped Eli's shoulders, his breathing already unsteady. "I love you too. For seeing me. For trusting me even when it's hard. For trying."
Eli pulled back long enough to strip off Jace's half-fastened clothes, then his own. When they were both naked, he pressed Jace back into the furs and just looked at him—gold gaze, dark hair spread across the pelts, lean muscle and elegant lines.
"You're so beautiful," Eli said, voice unsteady. "And you're choosing to come back to me."
"Always," Jace said. "I'll always choose you."
Eli kissed him again, slow and deep, and Jace opened for him—mouth, body, everything. When Eli's hand wrapped around Jace's cock, already half-hard, Jace gasped into his mouth.
"Let me," Eli murmured. "Let me make you feel good."
He stroked Jace slowly, his thumb circling the head, spreading precome. Jace's hips lifted involuntarily, seeking more friction, and Eli gave it to him—steady, deliberate strokes that had Jace panting.
"Eli," Jace breathed. "I want—I want you inside me."
"Yeah?" Eli's voice was thick with arousal. "You want me to fuck you?"
"No," Jace said, reaching up to touch Eli's face. "I want you to make love to me. Slow. Like we have all the time in the world."
Eli's expression softened. He reached for the oil they kept by the furs and slicked his fingers. When he pressed the first finger inside Jace, he watched his face—the way Jace's eyes fluttered closed, the way his lips parted, the way his body opened for him.
"That's it," Eli murmured, working him open carefully. "You take me so well."
He added a second finger, then a third, and Jace was making soft sounds—not urgent, just present. Connected.
When Eli finally positioned himself and pressed inside, they both exhaled shakily.
"Look at me," Eli said, and when Jace did, he reached up to touch his face. "Come back to me."
"I will," Jace promised.
Eli began to move—slow, deep thrusts that had Jace wrapping his legs around Eli's hips. They moved in tandem like they'd been doing this for years instead of weeks, their bodies knowing each other instinctively.
"You feel perfect," Eli said, his forehead resting against Jace's. "Like you were made for me."
"Maybe I was," Jace said, and pulled Eli down for a kiss.
They made love slowly, building pleasure gradually, and when Jace's breathing became ragged, Eli reached between them to stroke his cock.
"Come for me," Eli said. "Let me feel you."
Jace came with a soft cry, his body clenching around Eli's cock, and Eli followed him over the edge—both of them holding on, both of them trying to memorize this moment.
They didn't stop.
After a few minutes of catching their breath, Jace pushed at Eli's shoulders. "My turn," he said, and Eli rolled onto his back willingly.
Jace straddled him, reaching back to guide Eli's cock—still half-hard—inside himself. He sank down slowly, his hands braced on Eli's chest, and began to move.
This was different—Jace in control, setting the pace, taking what he needed. Eli's hands rested on Jace's hips, not controlling, just steadying.
"I love watching you like this," Eli whispered. "Taking your pleasure. Choosing me."
"I'll always choose you," Jace said, moving faster now. "Even when I'm gone, I'm choosing you."
Eli sat up, wrapping his arms around Jace, and they moved in tandem—chest to chest, breathing each other's air. When Jace came again, it was with Eli's name on his lips, and Eli held him through it.
But they still didn't stop.