Chapter 16

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

I signed off on another stack of patrol reports without really reading them, my mind wandering for the hundredth time today. The words blurred together—perimeter secure, no rogue activity, all clear.

Three months. It had been three months since the pack meeting, three months since Emma had shown mercy I didn't deserve, three months since our mate bond had been formally dissolved.

And three months since Vanessa had vanished without a trace.

My father knocked on my office door—the same office where I'd destroyed my life—and entered without waiting for permission.

"Jeremy, we need to talk about the patrol schedules. You approved overlapping shifts again." He set the papers on my desk, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "That's the third time this week."

"Sorry. I'll fix it." I reached for the documents, but he pulled them back.

"Son, I know you're going through a difficult time, but the pack needs you present. Actually present, not just physically here while your mind is somewhere else."

Somewhere else. He meant with Emma, and we both knew it.

"I'm doing my best," I said, hearing how hollow the words sounded.

"Are you?" My father sat down across from me, his Alpha authority softening into something more paternal. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're going through the motions. Making careless mistakes. Missing important details. That's not the leader this pack needs."

He was right. I knew he was right. But I couldn't seem to focus on anything anymore. My wolf was constantly restless, pacing and whining, never settling. The empty space where Emma's presence used to be in my mind felt like a wound that wouldn't heal.

Dissolving the mate bond was supposed to help. Supposed to make it easier for both of us to move on. Instead, it just made everything feel... hollow.

"I saw Emma in town yesterday," my father said carefully, watching my reaction. "She looked good. Happy, even. She's been helping Marcus with Beta duties, training some of the younger wolves."

My chest tightened. Of course she looked happy. She was free of me, free of the mate who'd betrayed her. Why wouldn't she be happy?

"That's good," I managed. "She deserves to be happy."

"She barely looked at you during the council meeting last week."

I remembered. The monthly council meeting where Emma had attended as her father's assistant. She'd sat three chairs away, her eyes focused on her notes, contributing intelligent observations about pack security without once glancing in my direction.

It was what I'd agreed to. What I deserved. But it still felt like dying slowly.

"She doesn't have to acknowledge me," I said. "I'm just grateful she stayed in the pack."

That had been my biggest fear—that Emma would leave Crescent Moon entirely, request a transfer to another pack where she wouldn't have to see me every day. But she'd stayed. For her father, for the pack she'd grown up in.

Just not for me.

"Have you tried talking to her?" my father asked.

"No. She asked me to give her space, and I'm respecting that."

"It's been three months, Jeremy."

"I don't care if it's been three years." I met his eyes. "I hurt her badly enough. I'm not going to push myself on her just because I'm lonely. She owes me nothing."

My father was quiet for a moment. "I'm proud of you for that, at least. For respecting her boundaries."

"It's literally the bare minimum of decent behavior."

"True. But given your track record..." He let the sentence hang.

I couldn't even be offended. My track record spoke for itself.

My phone buzzed. Another report from our enforcers—still no sign of Vanessa. She'd disappeared completely after fleeing pack lands. No credit card usage, no phone activity, no sightings despite the fact that we'd contacted every pack within five hundred miles.

It was like she'd vanished into thin air.

"Any word on Vanessa?" my father asked, seeing my expression.

"Nothing. She's either really good at hiding or..." I didn't finish the sentence.

"Or she's dead," my father completed. "Which, given the number of enemies she made hiring rogues, wouldn't be surprising."

Part of me hoped she was dead. Hoped some rogue pack had turned on her, angry about being used or unpaid or simply violent for the sake of violence.

The larger part of me didn't care either way. Vanessa felt like a lifetime ago, a different person's mistake. What I'd felt for her—lust, familiarity, misguided loyalty—seemed pathetic now.

Compared to what I'd lost with Emma, Vanessa was nothing.

"You need to move forward, Jeremy," my father said gently. "I'm not saying forget Emma or stop regretting your mistakes. But you can't lead effectively while you're drowning in guilt and grief."

"I don't know how to move forward." The admission came out raw. "Every time I try to focus on pack business, I remember that this is the office where Emma found me. Every time I go home, I smell her scent fading from the rooms. Every time someone mentions the future Luna, I remember that Emma was supposed to be—should have been—"

My voice broke. I cleared my throat roughly.

"Maybe you need to see the pack counselor," my father suggested. "Talk to someone professionally. This level of depression isn't healthy, son."

"I don't need a counselor. I need to accept the consequences of my actions and do better."

"You can do both." He stood, gathering the patrol schedules. "I'll fix these myself this time. But Jeremy? Get your head together. The pack needs their future Alpha focused, and you need to take care of yourself. For everyone's sake."

After he left, I slumped back in my chair and closed my eyes.

Through the window, I could hear training happening in the yard below. Young wolves sparring, someone calling out corrections and encouragement.

Emma's voice.

I moved to the window before I could stop myself. There she was, in training gear, demonstrating a defensive maneuver to a group of teenage wolves. Her movements were fluid, confident—the product of those self-defense classes she'd taken without telling me.

She'd been preparing. Even before she found out about the affair, some part of her had known she needed to be able to protect herself.

From me. From Vanessa. From the life I'd trapped her in.

As I watched, she laughed at something one of the teenagers said. The sound carried up to my window—light, genuine, unguarded.

When was the last time I'd heard her laugh like that?

When was the last time I'd made her laugh like that?

Never. The answer was never. I'd taken my sweet, gentle mate and made her feel anxious, uncertain, like she wasn't enough. And now she was flourishing without me.

My wolf whined miserably. *We lost her. We lost everything.*

"I know," I whispered to the empty office. "I know."

Emma finished the demonstration and the teenagers dispersed. She grabbed a water bottle, and for just a second—barely a heartbeat—she glanced up at my office window.

Our eyes met.

I saw recognition flash across her face. Then her expression went carefully neutral, and she turned away, heading toward the pack house entrance.

Dismissed. Ignored. Exactly what I deserved.

I returned to my desk and the mountain of paperwork that needed my attention. Somewhere in this stack was probably something important, something that required actual thought and decision-making.

But all I could think about was Emma's laugh, the way she'd looked right through me, the empty space in my chest where our bond used to live.

My father was right. I needed to move forward.

I just had no idea how.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was Marcus: "Need to discuss Emma's security detail. My office, 4 PM."

Emma's security detail. Because Vanessa was still out there somewhere, potentially still a threat. Because my ex-mistress had tried to kill my ex-mate and might try again.

One more thing to feel guilty about.

I typed back: "I'll be there."

At least focusing on Emma's safety was productive. Even if she wouldn't let me be the one protecting her, I could make sure someone else was.

It wasn't much. But it was something.

And right now, something was all I had.