Chapter 8

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

The laptop screen glowed in the darkened hotel room, casting harsh blue light across my face as I scrolled through rental listings in various cities. Denver. Portland. Asheville. Places far enough from Crescent Moon territory that Jeremy wouldn't think to look.

I'd been in this dingy motel for six days, and I knew I couldn't stay much longer. The front desk clerk was already giving me suspicious looks, probably wondering what a young woman was doing alone in a cash-only dump like this.

My phone sat face-down on the nightstand, silent for the moment. I'd turned off location services, disabled all the tracking features I could find, even removed the SIM card for a few hours before paranoia made me put it back in. I needed to stay connected to my dad, to Aria, even if I couldn't tell them where I was.

Jeremy had called forty-three times in the past week. I'd counted. Each call made the mate bond flare with painful intensity, my wolf whining and scratching at my mental barriers, begging me to answer, to hear his voice, to let him explain.

But there was nothing to explain. I'd seen everything I needed to see. Heard everything I needed to hear.

*"I never said I loved her."*

The words still cut like glass, even after all this time.

I slammed the laptop shut and stood, pacing the small room like a caged animal. My wolf paced with me, restless and hurting and so, so angry.

Where could I go? What was I supposed to do?

Pack law was clear—unmated wolves could travel freely between territories, but mated wolves needed their mate's permission to leave pack lands for extended periods. I'd technically broken that law by running. Jeremy could use it against me, could claim I'd abandoned my duties, could reject me on those grounds alone.

Part of me wanted him to. Wanted the bond severed, the connection broken, so I could finally breathe without feeling him pulling at me like an anchor.

But another part—the part that had spent six months trying to be the perfect mate, the perfect future Luna—that part was terrified of rejection. Of the pain it would cause, of the shame of being a rejected mate, of the whispers and pitying looks that would follow me for the rest of my life.

My phone buzzed. Another text from Aria: "I know you said you need space, but I'm worried about you, Em. At least tell me you're eating? Sleeping? Not doing anything stupid?"

I smiled despite everything. Aria knew me too well.

"Eating. Sleeping when I can. Define stupid?" I typed back.

Her response was immediate: "Stupid = going back to that asshole before you're ready. Or doing something that will get you arrested. Both would be bad."

"No plans for either. Promise."

"Good. Because when you DO come back, I'm going to need you alive and free so we can plot his downfall together. I'm thinking public humiliation. Maybe involving spray paint and his precious truck."

This time I actually laughed, a sound that felt foreign after days of crying and rage. "Noted. Will plan accordingly."

"Love you, babe. Stay safe."

"Love you too."

I set the phone down and returned to the laptop, opening a private browser window. I'd been researching mate bond law obsessively, looking for any loophole, any precedent that might give me options beyond waiting for Jeremy to reject me.

What I'd found wasn't encouraging.

Mate bonds could only be severed in a few ways: mutual rejection (required both parties' consent), forced rejection for abandonment or severe crimes, or death. That was it. There was no "my mate is a cheating bastard" clause, no "I have video evidence of infidelity" exemption.

The pack would expect me to forgive him. To work through it. To honor the sacred bond the Moon Goddess had bestowed.

The thought made me want to scream.

I pulled up the video again, forcing myself to watch. Jeremy's face. Vanessa's laugh. The casual cruelty of their words about me, about my future, about the child they expected me to bear before being discarded.

My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach. Thank the Moon Goddess I'd been on birth control. Jeremy didn't know—I'd told him I wanted to wait a year before trying for pups, to enjoy being newlyweds first. He'd agreed easily enough, probably relieved to delay that part of his plan.

Now I understood why.

A knock on the door made me jump, my wolf immediately on high alert. I hadn't ordered food. Hadn't called for housekeeping. No one knew I was here.

"Who is it?" I called, keeping my voice steady.

"Manager, ma'am. Need to discuss your payment."

I relaxed slightly. Right. I'd been here almost a week. They probably wanted me to pay for another week or move out.

I opened the door, keeping the chain lock engaged. The manager—a tired-looking middle-aged woman with graying hair—stood on the other side.

"Sorry to bother you, honey, but we need to settle up if you're planning to stay longer. Cash only, remember?"

"Of course. Let me grab my wallet."

I retrieved the cash I'd withdrawn from my secret account—small amounts from different ATMs to avoid leaving a trail—and paid for another week. The manager counted it carefully, then looked at me with an expression that might have been concern.

"You doing okay? You've been real quiet. No visitors, barely leave your room."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just going through some things. Needed time alone."

She studied me for a moment longer, and I wondered what she saw. Red-rimmed eyes? The weight I'd lost from barely eating? The haunted look I couldn't quite hide?

"Well, you need anything, you let me know. And honey?" She paused at the door. "Whatever you're running from—and don't bother denying it, I've been doing this job twenty years—make sure you're not just running. Sometimes you gotta turn around and fight."

She left before I could respond.

I closed the door and leaned against it, her words echoing in my head.

Turn around and fight.

But how? Jeremy was the Alpha's son. Vanessa's family was influential in pack politics. I was just the Beta's daughter, and everyone knew Marcus was loyal to Alpha Richard above all else.

If I accused Jeremy publicly, if I showed that video to the pack, what would happen? Would they believe me? Or would they do exactly what Vanessa suggested—dismiss me as jealous, paranoid, unstable?

My phone buzzed again. This time it was my dad: "Emma, I love you and I'm trying to give you space like you asked. But Jeremy's been asking questions. Pushing to know where you are. I can hold him off for a while, but not forever. Whatever you're planning, you need to be ready."

My hands shook as I read the message.

Jeremy was looking for me. Actively searching. And once he found me—and he would eventually, through pack connections or sheer determination—what then?

Would he try to force me back? Demand I return and play the dutiful mate? Or would he finally do what he'd always planned and reject me?

I opened my research on pack law again, but this time I searched for something different: territorial asylum. The right of a wolf to seek protection from another pack if their own became unsafe.

If I could find a pack willing to take me in, to shield me from Jeremy and Crescent Moon politics, I might have a chance. A real chance to heal, to plan, to figure out my next move without constantly looking over my shoulder.

But it was a long shot. Most Alphas wouldn't want to get involved in mate bond disputes. It was messy, politically complicated, potentially dangerous.

I needed leverage. Something more than just my word against Jeremy's.

I pulled up the video one more time, watching with clinical detachment now. Then I started making copies—encrypting them, storing them in multiple cloud accounts, sending them to email addresses Jeremy didn't know existed.

Insurance. Protection. Ammunition.

The manager's words came back to me: *Sometimes you gotta turn around and fight.*

Maybe she was right.

Maybe I was done running.