CHAPTER 12 THE SHAPE OF ABSENCE #2
Pleasure shot through him, sharp and intense.
His cock was throbbing now, his balls tight, his entire body coiled with tension.
He was close. So close.
He thought about Jace's face when he came—the way his eyes went wide, the way his mouth fell open, the way he said Eli's name like it was sacred.
He thought about the bond between them—the spiritual connection that meant even when they were apart, they were still together.
"Jace," he gasped. "Jace, I—"
The orgasm hit him like a wave, crashing over him with devastating force.
He came hard, his back arching off the furs, his hand working his cock through pulse after pulse of release. Come spilled over his fingers, onto his stomach, onto the furs beneath him.
For a few seconds, he felt something through the bond—a flutter of acknowledgment, of warmth, of Jace reaching back toward him across the distance.
I feel you, Jace's voice whispered in his mind. I'm here. I'm with you.
Or maybe Eli was imagining it because he needed to feel connected so badly.
Either way, the sensation anchored him.
Jace was out there. Alive. Safe.
And he'd promised to return.
Eli lay in the furs, covered in his own release and Jace's scent, his breathing slowly returning to normal.
His body felt sated, but his heart still ached.
Five days suddenly felt like an eternity.
After a few minutes, Eli forced himself to move.
He cleaned himself with water from the basin near the cave entrance, then returned to the furs. He should probably wash them—they were covered in sweat and come and the evidence of their desperate coupling.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Not yet.
Not when they still smelled like Jace.
He lay back down, pulling the furs around himself, and stared at the cave ceiling.
And the fear crept in.
What if he doesn't come back?
The thought was intrusive, unwelcome, but impossible to ignore.
What if his mother convinces him to stay? What if the pride threat is worse than he said? What if he realizes that choosing me means losing his entire family structure, and he can't actually live with that sacrifice?
Eli's mind spiraled through worst-case scenarios with brutal efficiency.
He'd been abandoned before.
By his pack, when they fractured and scattered after Marcus's challenge.
By his brother, who'd chosen ambition over family.
By everyone who'd ever mattered to him.
What if history was repeating?
What if he'd let himself love Jace, and Jace was going to break him?
"No," Eli said aloud, his voice sharp in the empty cave.
He sat up abruptly, his hands clenching into fists.
He couldn't do this. Couldn't sit here and spiral into paranoia and fear.
But what else could he do?
He couldn't go to the pride lands—that would violate every territorial law and probably get him killed.
He couldn't force Jace to stay through ownership—he'd already learned that didn't work, that it only pushed Jace away.
He couldn't control this situation.
And that was the real fear, wasn't it?
Helplessness.
He'd spent three years controlling everything about his solitary existence. His territory, his routine, his emotional walls.
And now, his entire emotional world hinged on another person's choice.
It was terrifying.
Eli stood and paced the cave again, his bare feet slapping against stone.
His wolf was restless, agitated, wanting to do something—hunt, fight, run, anything but sit here passively waiting.
But there was nothing to do.
Nothing except trust.
Trust that Jace meant what he said.
Trust that their bond was strong enough to survive separation.
Trust that love was worth the risk of heartbreak.
Eli stopped pacing and stood at the cave entrance, looking out at his territory bathed in moonlight.
The forest was quiet. Peaceful.
And suddenly, with painful clarity, he understood:
This was the choice.
Not whether to love Jace—that choice had already been made, probably the moment their eyes met in the ancient oak clearing.
But whether to let that love transform him.
Whether to be brave enough to build a life with someone, knowing it could all fall apart.
Whether to trust that Jace was worth the risk.
And he was.
God, he was.
Eli took a deep breath and felt something shift inside him.
The fear didn't disappear. But it transformed.
Fear became determination.
Fear became preparation.
Fear became purpose.
Eli sat at the cave entrance, his legs dangling over the edge, and made a decision.
Whatever happened, he was going to be ready.
When Jace came back—not if, when—Eli was going to commit fully.
Not with ownership or control, but with care.
He was going to figure out how to navigate territorial law with Jace. He was going to find a way to honor both their bonding and their individual identities.
He was going to fight for this if he had to.
And if the worst happened and Jace didn't come back?
At least he'd know he tried.
At least he'd know what real love felt like before it ended.
He was no longer the wolf who hid from connection.
He was the wolf who was brave enough to face it.
The realization didn't erase his fear, but it gave him direction.
By the time dawn broke over the eastern ridge, Eli had made plans:
He'd reach out to Vera, the elder she-wolf from his old pack. Not to start a war, but to prepare defenses should the pride threat escalate into something bigger.
He'd map out the territory they might need to defend together—his lands and the border regions where pride and pack territories met.
He'd prepare a shelter, a neutral space between his territory and the pride lands where he and Jace could meet if needed.
He wasn't sitting passively anymore.
He was building a future, assuming Jace would be in it.
And if Jace chose differently?
Then at least Eli would have tried. At least he would have been brave enough to hope.
***
That night—the second night without Jace—Eli felt the bond activate again.
He was sitting by the fire, sharpening his hunting knife, when Jace's presence bloomed in his mind.
The defenses are set, Jace said, his mental voice tired but steady. We've established more scouts to watch for northern pack movement. I'll know more by tomorrow.
Relief flooded through Eli so intensely it was almost painful.
Come back to me, he responded. Not because you have to. Because you want to.
There was a pause, and Eli could feel Jace's conflict through the bond—duty warring with desire.
I want to, Jace finally said. More than anything. But this matters too. My family matters.
I know, Eli said, and he meant it. And I love you for that. For being someone who honors her commitments. That's who I fell in love with.
Jace's presence through the bond felt warmer, softer.
I fell in love with someone who's learning to let people in, Jace said. Don't lose that. Don't go back to walls.
I won't, Eli promised. I'm here. Waiting. Planning. Building.
Building what? Jace asked, and Eli could hear the curiosity in his mental voice.
A future, Eli said simply. Our future. Assuming you still want it.
Always, Jace responded immediately. I'm coming back. I promise.
And Eli believed him.
Not because he had no fear—the fear was still there, coiled in his chest like a living thing.
But because his love for Jace was bigger than his fear.
Three more days, Jace said. I can feel the pride settling. My mother's satisfied that I came when she called. I'll be able to leave soon.
I'll be here, Eli said. Waiting.
I know, Jace said, and there was so much love in those two words that Eli's chest ached. I love you.
I love you too, Eli responded. Come home.
The connection faded, but Eli sat by the fire for a long time afterward, feeling more settled than he had since Jace left.
Three more days.
He could do three more days.
As dawn broke over the territory on the third day, Eli stood at the cave entrance again.
He was exhausted from lack of sleep, but he was also energized.
Today, he'd reach out to Vera. He'd start preparing—not defensively, but proactively.
He was building a life. Not hiding in a fortress anymore.
When Jace returned, he'd be ready.
They'd be ready.
Whatever came next—pride conflicts, territorial disputes, challenges to their bond—they'd face it together.
Eli shifted to wolf form and let out a call—not the mournful howl of two nights ago, but something different.
A call of recognition.
Of commitment.
Of readiness.
The sound echoed through the forest, carrying across territorial boundaries, reaching toward the western pride lands.
And somewhere in those lands, Jace heard it through their bond.
His heart settled.
Eli was waiting.
Eli was ready.
And Eli wasn't going to let him go.
Soon, Jace promised through the bond. I'm coming home soon.
Eli shifted back to human form and smiled—a real smile, the first in days.
"I'll be here," he said aloud to the empty forest. "I'll always be here."
And he meant it.