Chapter 38

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

The casserole was incredible. Real, home-cooked food instead of the protein bars and takeout that had become my diet. But more than the food, it was having Emma across the table from me, talking, laughing, just existing in the same space without the weight of therapy or guilt or carefully maintained distance.

"I can't believe you still watch that show," I said, gesturing with my fork at her phone where she'd been showing me clips of some reality dating program. "It's so obviously scripted."

"That's what makes it fun!" She was laughing, her eyes bright in a way I hadn't seen in months. "The drama is ridiculous. That's the point."

"The point is to rot your brain."

"Says the man who spent three hours last month watching wolves rate roadkill on that nature documentary."

"That was educational," I protested. "Completely different."

"Uh-huh. Sure." She took another bite of casserole. "Face it, we both have terrible taste in entertainment."

"At least we're consistent."

It felt normal. Easy. Like we'd gone back in time to before everything fell apart—just two people sharing a meal, teasing each other, enjoying simple companionship.

I'd forgotten how much I missed this. Not the grand gestures or dramatic moments, but this. The everyday intimacy of shared meals and stupid conversations.

"You're staring," Emma said, but her tone was gentle.

"Sorry. Just—" I paused, trying to find words. "I missed this. Missed you. Missed feeling like we're just—us."

Her expression softened. "I missed it too. More than I wanted to admit."

We cleaned up together after dinner, moving around the kitchen in comfortable synchronization. Emma washed, I dried. Like we'd done a hundred times before.

"Movie?" I asked as we finished. "I mean, if you want to stay. No pressure."

I could see the war in her eyes—the desire to stay versus the need to maintain boundaries. Finally, she nodded.

"One movie. Something mindless."

We settled on the couch, a careful two feet between us. I put on some action movie neither of us had to think too hard about. Just explosions and car chases and a plot so thin it was practically transparent.

Halfway through, Emma yawned. "Sorry. Long day."

"You can go home if you're tired. I don't want to keep you—"

"I'm fine." Another yawn. "Just comfortable."

Twenty minutes later, her head was drooping. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she fought to stay awake, her eyelids getting heavier with each blink.

"Emma, just sleep if you need to. It's okay."

"M'not sleeping," she mumbled, even as her eyes closed. "Just resting my eyes."

Five minutes after that, she was out. Her head had gradually tilted until it rested against my shoulder, her breathing deep and even.

I barely dared to move. Emma was asleep on my shoulder. Actually asleep, trusting me enough to let her guard down completely.

The movie continued playing, but I wasn't watching anymore. Just sat there, hyper-aware of her warmth against my side, the soft sound of her breathing, the weight of her head on my shoulder.

This. This was what I'd thrown away. Not just the physical closeness, but the trust. The comfort. The simple peace of being together without walls or fear.

My own eyes grew heavy. The combination of actually sleeping properly the night before, a full meal, and Emma's presence—it was more relaxing than anything I'd felt in months.

Just for a minute, I told myself. I'd just close my eyes for a minute.

---

"Jeremy."

My father's voice pulled me from sleep. I opened my eyes to find him standing over the couch, his expression grave. The TV was still playing—some late-night infomercial now.

"Dad?" I was disoriented, trying to figure out what time it was. "What—"

Then I became aware of Emma, still asleep against my shoulder. We'd both passed out on the couch.

"Don't wake her yet," my father said quietly. "We need to talk first."

Something in his tone made my blood run cold. "What happened?"

"Black River. They've moved. Our scouts spotted them three miles from our eastern border." He kept his voice low, conscious of Emma sleeping. "They're not just watching anymore. They're positioning for an attack."

I carefully extracted myself from Emma, trying not to wake her. She stirred slightly but settled back into the couch cushions, still sleeping.

My father and I moved to the kitchen, out of earshot.

"When?" I asked.

"Within the next forty-eight hours, according to our intelligence. They've been probing our patrol schedules, mapping response times." He pulled out his phone, showing me a map with new red marks clustering dangerously close to our territory. "They're planning something big. Coordinated."

"Emma." The word came out tight with fear. "They're coming for Emma."

"That's our assessment. They've been tracking her movements for weeks. Now they're in position." He met my eyes. "Jeremy, we need to move her. Somewhere safe, somewhere fortified. Until we can neutralize this threat."

"She won't go. She said she won't live like a prisoner."

"She won't have a choice if she's dead," my father said bluntly. "Son, this is serious. These aren't random rogues or disorganized packs. This is a professional military operation with one target."

I looked back at the living room where Emma slept, peaceful and unaware. Safe for now, but for how much longer?

"What's the plan?"

"Emergency council meeting in two hours. We're calling in allies from Silverbrook and Moonshadow packs. If Black River wants a fight, we'll give them one—on our terms." He paused. "But Emma needs to be secured first. Protected."

"I'll talk to her."

"She needs to hear it from Alpha command. From me and Marcus together." He checked his watch. "I'm waking Marcus now. We'll meet here in thirty minutes. That gives you time to prepare Emma for what's coming."

After he left, I returned to the living room. Emma was still asleep, her face peaceful in a way I rarely saw anymore. No worry lines. No guarded expression. Just peaceful rest.

I hated having to wake her for this. Hated shattering that peace with news of imminent danger.

But she needed to know. Deserved to know.

"Emma," I said softly, touching her shoulder. "Emma, wake up."

She stirred, her eyes opening slowly. For a moment, she looked confused—then awareness returned and she sat up quickly, putting distance between us.

"I fell asleep. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," I interrupted gently. "Emma, we need to talk. My father was just here."

The change in my tone registered immediately. Her expression shifted from embarrassed to concerned. "What's wrong?"

"The rogues. Black River faction. They've moved closer. They're planning to attack within the next two days."

She went pale. "Attack the pack?"

"Attack you, specifically. They've been tracking your movements, studying your routines. Emma, this is serious. My father is calling an emergency council meeting. He and your father are coming here in thirty minutes to discuss protection protocols."

"Protection protocols." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You mean locking me away somewhere."

"I mean keeping you alive," I said firmly. "Emma, these aren't random rogues. This is fifty professional mercenaries with military training and half a million dollars worth of motivation to kill you. We can't take this lightly."

"I know that." She stood, pacing. "I just—I knew this was coming. Knew Vanessa's threats were real. But hearing that they're actually here, actually planning—" Her voice shook. "It's different."

I wanted to pull her into my arms, to comfort her. But I wasn't sure if that would be welcome, so I stayed where I was.

"We're going to protect you," I said. "Whatever it takes. The whole pack is mobilizing. We're calling in allies. Black River may be professional, but so are we."

"And what do I do? Hide in some safe room while everyone else fights?"

"You survive," I said simply. "That's what you do. You let us handle the threat while you stay safe."

"I can fight. You know I can. I've been training—"

"Emma, you're good. Very good. But you're not trained for military operations against fifty mercenaries." I moved closer. "Please. Let us protect you. Don't make this harder by insisting on putting yourself in danger."

She was quiet for a long moment, her arms wrapped around herself. "I hate this. Hate feeling helpless. Hate that Vanessa is still winning even dead."

"She's not winning. She's dead. We're alive. And we're going to stay that way." I paused. "Your father will be here soon. He'll want to discuss specifics. But Emma, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"That you'll follow security protocols. That you won't try to sneak out or take unnecessary risks." I met her eyes. "Promise me you'll let us keep you safe."

"Even if that means going somewhere I don't want to go?"

"Especially then."

She studied my face for a long moment. "You're scared. I can see it. You're actually scared."

"Terrified," I admitted. "Because I've already lost you once through my own stupidity. I can't—" My voice broke. "I can't lose you to Vanessa's hired killers. Can't let her win like that."

Emma crossed the distance between us and took my hand. "Okay. I promise. I'll follow protocols. I'll go wherever you need me to go. I'll let you protect me."

"Thank you." The relief was overwhelming. "Thank you."

"But Jeremy?" She squeezed my hand. "When this is over, when the threat is neutralized—I want my life back. Want to stop living in fear. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes. We'll end this. However long it takes, whatever it costs—we'll end this." I brought her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "I swear it."

The sound of cars pulling into the driveway interrupted us. My father and Marcus, arriving together.

"They're here," Emma said, pulling her hand back. "Time to face reality."

"Time to make a plan," I corrected. "To fight back. To show Black River that Crescent Moon Pack doesn't surrender."

Her eyes flashed with something fierce. "Good. Because I'm tired of being afraid. Tired of being hunted. If they want a fight, let's give them one."

"That's my girl," I said, then caught myself. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay." A small smile. "I kind of liked hearing it. Even if it's complicated."

My father and Marcus entered without knocking, both looking grim and determined.

"Emma," Marcus said, pulling his daughter into a hug. "We're going to keep you safe. I promise."

"I know, Dad."

"Good. Now let's talk strategy." He released her and turned to all of us. "Because Black River just made their first mistake. They got close enough for us to find them. And now we're going to make them regret it."

As we gathered around the kitchen table to plan, I looked at Emma. Strong, brave, refusing to be a victim even in the face of deadly threats.

She was incredible. And I'd almost lost her through my own selfishness.

Not again. Never again.

Black River wanted a fight?

They were about to learn what happened when you threatened Crescent Moon's future Luna.

And it wasn't going to end well for them.