Chapter 43

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

I woke to the best sight I'd seen in months—Emma curled against my chest, her hair splayed across my shoulder, her breathing deep and peaceful. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the cabin windows, casting everything in warm gold.

We'd made love. Actually made love, not just had sex. She'd trusted me with her body, her vulnerability, her heart. After everything I'd done, all the ways I'd hurt her, she'd still chosen to be intimate with me.

The weight of that trust felt both terrifying and precious.

I carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face, marveling at how peaceful she looked. No worry lines. No guarded expression. Just Emma, beautiful and trusting and mine.

Not fully mine. Not yet. We still had so much to work through. But more mine than I'd been in months, and that was enough to make my chest tight with gratitude.

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. She'd been through hell—the attack, the fear, the emotional exhaustion. She needed rest.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession.

Dread pooled in my stomach. Multiple urgent calls at—I checked the clock—just past six PM. Nothing good came from that kind of urgency.

I carefully extracted myself from Emma's embrace, tucking the blanket around her before padding naked into the living room to grab my phone.

Seven missed calls. All from my father.

The dread intensified.

I called him back immediately. He answered on the first ring.

"Jeremy. Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for twenty minutes."

His tone—clipped, urgent, barely controlled—made my blood run cold. "What happened?"

"It's Black River. They didn't go to ground. They were planning." I heard papers rustling in the background. "We just received intelligence from Silverbrook. Black River made contact with two other mercenary groups. They're consolidating. Building a coalition."

"How many wolves are we talking about?"

"Best estimate? Over a hundred. Three professional mercenary factions working together." He paused. "Jeremy, they're not just targeting Emma anymore. They're planning a full-scale assault on Crescent Moon territory. They want to destroy the entire pack."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Why? The contract was on Emma. Why escalate to—"

"Because we embarrassed them." My father's voice was grim. "They attacked with fifty wolves and we held them off, killed several of theirs, exposed their intelligence source. For professional mercenaries, that's a reputation problem. They need to prove they can complete a contract, no matter the resistance."

"So they're bringing in reinforcements."

"More than that. They're turning this into a statement. A message to other packs: don't fuck with Black River contracts."

I sank onto the couch, mind racing. A hundred mercenaries. Professional fighters with military training and no loyalty except to money. Against our pack, even with allied support—

"What's our defensive capability?" I asked.

"We have about sixty combat-ready wolves. Silverbrook can send thirty. Moonshadow another twenty. That's roughly one hundred and ten against their hundred." He paused. "On paper, we have the advantage. Home territory, fortified positions, alliance support. But Jeremy, these are mercenaries. They won't fight fair. They'll use tactics we're not prepared for."

"When?"

"Unknown. Could be days. Could be a week. Our scouts are tracking their movements but they're being careful, staying in neutral territory while they coordinate."

I thought about Emma, sleeping peacefully in the next room. Thought about her curled against me, trusting and vulnerable and finally starting to heal.

"Emma can't come back," I said. "Not until this is over. She needs to stay here, stay hidden."

"Agreed. But Jeremy—" My father's voice softened. "We need you. Need your tactical mind. Your strategic thinking. I wouldn't ask if we had another choice, but with Marcus coordinating security and me handling alliance politics, we don't have anyone else who can plan large-scale defensive operations."

"You want me to leave Emma here. Alone."

"The safe house is secure. She has weapons, communication equipment, supplies for weeks. And Jeremy, if Black River is consolidating for a major assault, they're not wasting resources hunting for her. They're focused on the pack now."

He was right. Strategically, it made sense. Emma was safer here than anywhere else. The pack needed leadership. Needed someone who understood tactics and could coordinate a defense against professional mercenaries.

But the thought of leaving her—especially now, after what we'd just shared—made my wolf snarl with protective fury.

"How long would I need to be gone?"

"Unknown. Until we have a better sense of their timeline and can finalize defensive positions." He paused. "I'm not ordering you, son. I'm asking. Can you leave her? Can you trust that she's safe here while you help protect the pack?"

Could I? The last time I'd left her, mercenaries had attacked. Drake had betrayed us. Everything had gone to hell.

But this was different. No one knew this location except my father and Marcus. The safe house was designed to be invisible, undetectable. Emma would actually be safer here than anywhere in pack territory.

And my pack needed me. Our wolves needed me. People were going to die if we didn't plan this defense properly.

"I'll come back," I said finally. "But I need to talk to Emma first. Need to make sure she's okay with this."

"Of course. Call me back within the hour with your decision." A pause. "And Jeremy? I'm sorry. I know the timing is shit. Know you two just started—whatever you've started. But—"

"The pack comes first. I know, Dad. I've always known."

After we hung up, I sat in the darkening living room for several minutes, trying to figure out how to tell Emma. How to explain that I needed to leave her alone in a safe house while I went back to coordinate a defense against a hundred mercenary wolves.

She was going to hate it. Was going to feel abandoned. Was going to think I was choosing duty over her again.

But this wasn't like the affair. This was actual duty. Real responsibility. The kind that came with being future Alpha.

I heard movement from the bedroom. Emma appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the sheet, her hair messy and her expression soft with contentment.

"Hey," she said. "Why'd you leave? I woke up and you were gone."

The happiness on her face—the trust, the peace—made what I had to say even harder.

"My father called," I said quietly. "Emma, we need to talk."

Her expression shifted immediately. The softness replaced with wariness. "What happened?"

"Black River. They're not backing down. They're escalating." I gestured for her to sit beside me. "They've recruited two more mercenary factions. Over a hundred wolves total. And they're planning a full assault on the pack."

She paled, pulling the sheet tighter around herself. "When?"

"Unknown. Days or weeks. But Emma—" I took her hands. "My father needs me. Needs my tactical skills to help plan the defense. I have to go back."

The words hung between us. I watched realization dawn on her face, followed quickly by hurt.

"You're leaving me here."

"You're safer here than anywhere else. No one knows this location. You have everything you need. And Emma, Black River isn't hunting you anymore—they're focused on the pack assault. This is actually the safest place for you."

"So I'm supposed to just—what? Sit here alone while you go fight a hundred mercenaries?"

"You're supposed to survive," I said firmly. "That's your job. Stay here, stay safe, stay alive. Let me handle the defense."

"Like you handled it last time?" Her voice rose. "When you almost died? When three wolves were killed? Jeremy, I can't just sit here not knowing if you're alive or dead!"

"You'll have communication equipment. I'll check in. You'll know I'm okay."

"Until you're not okay!" She pulled her hands from mine, standing. "Until you take a bullet or get torn apart by mercenaries and I'm stuck here useless while you die!"

"I'm not going to die."

"You don't know that! You can't promise that!" She was crying now, angry tears streaming down her face. "Jeremy, we just—we just had something real. Something good. And now you're leaving?"

"I'm not leaving you. I'm protecting the pack. There's a difference."

"Is there?" The question was quiet but devastating. "Because from where I'm standing, it feels like you're choosing duty over me. Again."

"That's not fair. The affair was about selfishness. This is about responsibility."

"But the result is the same. I'm alone. You're gone. And I'm supposed to just accept it."

I stood, closing the distance between us. "Emma, I'm asking you to trust me. To trust that I'm coming back. That I'm doing this because I have to, not because I want to leave you."

"And if you don't come back?" Her voice broke. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"Then—" The question paralyzed me. Because I didn't have an answer. "Then you survive. You live. You move on."

"I don't want to move on!" She was shouting now. "I want you alive! I want us to have a chance! And you're asking me to sit here while you possibly throw that away fighting a hundred mercenaries!"

"I don't have a choice!"

"There's always a choice!" She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself, creating distance. "You could choose to stay here. With me. Let someone else coordinate the defense."

"There is no one else. Marcus is handling security. My father is managing alliances. I'm the only one with the tactical training to plan a large-scale defense."

"So the pack needs you more than I do."

"That's not—Emma, don't make me choose. Please."

"I'm not making you choose. You already chose." She moved toward the bedroom. "You should probably pack. Get back before dark."

"Emma—"

"Just go, Jeremy." She wouldn't look at me. "Do what you need to do. Protect the pack. Be the future Alpha. I'll be fine here. Alone. Like always."

The words cut deep. Because she was right. She was always alone. Even when we were mated, I'd been with Vanessa. Even now, when we were finally rebuilding, I was leaving.

But what choice did I have? Let the pack face a hundred mercenaries without proper defensive planning? Let people die because I chose to stay hidden with Emma?

"I love you," I said quietly. "And I'm coming back. I promise you, Emma. I'm coming back."

"Don't make promises you might not be able to keep." She disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I stood there for a long moment, torn between duty and love. Between being the Alpha the pack needed and the mate Emma deserved.

In the end, duty won. Because it had to.

I got dressed, packed a bag, left detailed instructions for using the communication equipment. Emma didn't come out of the bedroom. Didn't say goodbye.

I knocked on the door. "Emma? I'm leaving. Please—please be safe. I'll call you when I get to pack lands."

Silence.

"I love you. Remember that. Whatever happens, I love you."

Still nothing.

I left the safe house as the sun was setting, my heart heavy with the weight of yet another choice that hurt Emma. Yet another time I was leaving her alone.

But this time was different, I told myself. This time, I was doing it to protect her. To protect everyone.

This time, I was being the Alpha I was supposed to be.

Even if it cost me everything I'd just regained.

Even if Emma never forgave me.

The pack came first.

It had to.

Even when it broke my heart.