Chapter 18

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

I laid Emma down as gently as I could, my hands shaking with adrenaline and fear. Her blood—too much blood—was pooling beneath her, the silver poisoning already spreading dark veins across her shoulder and chest.

*"Medic! I need a medic at the northwest corner NOW!"* My father's voice boomed through the mind-link.

But I couldn't wait. Couldn't hope help would arrive in time.

Vanessa stood twenty feet away, her wolf form practically vibrating with satisfaction. Behind her, the remaining rogues were regrouping, preparing for another assault.

Something inside me snapped.

Not fear. Not guilt. Pure, incandescent rage.

Emma had saved me. Had thrown herself in front of a silver blade meant for me, even after everything I'd done to her. Even after I'd betrayed her, hurt her, destroyed what we could have been.

She'd saved me anyway.

And Vanessa was laughing about it.

I shifted, my wolf surging forward with a fury I'd never felt before. The pain from my injuries disappeared, buried under the overwhelming need to destroy the woman who'd orchestrated all of this.

I charged.

Vanessa met me head-on, her jaws snapping at my throat. But I was faster, fueled by rage and desperation. I dodged and caught her shoulder in my teeth, biting down with every ounce of strength I had.

She howled and tried to shake me off, but I held on, my claws raking her ribs.

A rogue jumped on my back. I felt teeth sink into my spine, tearing muscle. Another came from the side, catching my already injured leg.

I didn't care. Didn't feel it. All I felt was the need to make Vanessa pay.

I released her shoulder and went for her throat. She twisted away at the last second, my jaws catching her face instead. Blood filled my mouth as I tore through flesh.

*"Jeremy, fall back!"* My father's command barely registered.

Vanessa shifted to human form, her hand going to her destroyed face. "You bastard! You fucking—"

I shifted too, standing over her on unsteady legs. Blood poured from multiple wounds—the bite on my spine, deep gashes across my torso, my leg that could barely support my weight.

"You tried to kill her," I said, my voice coming out as a growl. "My mate. You tried to kill Emma."

"She's not your mate anymore!" Vanessa screamed, her ruined face contorting with rage. "You dissolved the bond! She's nothing to you!"

A rogue fired a gun. The bullet caught me in the thigh. I staggered but didn't fall.

"She's everything," I said, advancing on Vanessa despite the blood loss making my vision blur. "She always was. And I was too stupid to see it until it was too late."

Another bullet hit me, this time in the shoulder. The impact spun me around, but I stayed on my feet through sheer force of will.

Vanessa pulled a knife from her belt—not silver, just steel, but deadly enough. "If I can't have you, no one can. And if she's the reason you chose this—"

She tried to move toward Emma's unconscious form.

I shifted and hit her with every ounce of strength I had left. We rolled across the blood-soaked ground, teeth and claws tearing at each other with savage intensity.

I got on top of her, my jaws closing around her throat. One bite. One hard bite and this would all be over.

But something stopped me. Some last shred of the man I'd been raised to be, the Alpha I was supposed to become.

Killing her wouldn't bring Emma back. Wouldn't heal the damage I'd caused.

I settled for tearing open her shoulder instead, my claws raking deep gashes that would scar even after they healed. A permanent reminder of what her jealousy and hatred had cost.

Vanessa screamed, the sound cutting off into a whimper as I pinned her down with my full weight.

"Jeremy!" My father's voice, closer now. I could hear multiple wolves approaching—reinforcements finally arriving.

Through my fading vision, I saw them. My father in his massive black wolf form, Marcus beside him, both leading a group of our strongest warriors.

The rogues saw them too. Saw their leader pinned and bleeding. Saw that their organized attack had failed.

One by one, they began to retreat. Those who could still run melted back into the trees, abandoning Vanessa to her fate.

"Cowards!" she screamed after them. "Come back! We can still—"

I pressed harder on her throat, cutting off her words. She struggled weakly beneath me, but she'd lost too much blood, was too injured to fight effectively.

My father shifted to human form. "Jeremy, let her go. Let the enforcers handle her."

I wanted to argue, wanted to finish what I'd started. But my vision was darkening at the edges, my legs finally giving out.

I released Vanessa and shifted back to human form, collapsing onto the blood-soaked grass.

"Emma," I tried to say, but it came out as barely a whisper. "Is Emma—"

"Being tended to," Marcus's voice, tight with controlled emotion. "The medics have her. They're extracting the silver now."

"Will she—" I couldn't finish the question.

"I don't know, son." Marcus knelt beside me, and I saw tears in his eyes. "She took a deep hit. Silver that close to the heart..."

No. No, she couldn't die. Not for me. Not because of me.

"I'm sorry," I managed, looking up at Marcus. Blood was filling my mouth, making it hard to speak. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. All of it. If she dies—"

"Save your strength," Marcus said, but his hand found my shoulder, gripping tight. Not in anger. In something that might have been understanding. Or shared grief. "You fought well. Protected the pack."

"Didn't protect her." The darkness was closing in faster now. "Never protected her. All I did was hurt her."

"She saved you anyway," Marcus said quietly. "That's who Emma is. That's who she's always been."

My father appeared on my other side. "Medic! Jeremy needs immediate attention!"

"Emma first," I tried to say. "Help Emma first."

But I don't know if anyone heard me. The darkness was swallowing everything now, pulling me down into unconsciousness.

The last thing I saw was Vanessa being dragged away by enforcers, still screaming curses and threats.

The last thing I thought was of Emma. Silver-white fur. Brown eyes full of hurt and anger. The way she'd pushed me aside to take the blade meant for me.

The last thing I felt was the terrible, crushing weight of knowing that if she died, it would be my fault.

Again.

Always.

Everything was always my fault.

Then the darkness took me, and I felt nothing at all.