My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, but my resolve didn't waver. If Jeremy thought he could use me and discard me on his timeline, he had another thing coming.

I crept back down the hallway, my wolf lending me the stealth I needed. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to protect myself from more pain. But I forced myself forward. I needed proof. Needed insurance.

The door was still cracked open, their sounds of pleasure echoing obscenely through the quiet hallway. My stomach churned, but I steadied my phone and pressed record.

The video quality was perfect. Crystal clear footage of Jeremy's face contorted in ecstasy as he thrust into Vanessa. Her voice, breathy and triumphant: "God, you feel so much better than you do with her, don't you?"

"So much better, baby. You know exactly what I need."

I kept recording. Thirty seconds. A minute. Long enough that there could be no doubt, no excuses, no gaslighting about what I'd seen.

"When are you going to mark me instead?" Vanessa asked, trailing her fingers down his chest. "Your real mate?"

"Soon as I can figure out how to break her father's influence with the pack. Beta Marcus thinks the sun rises and sets on his precious daughter."

My father. God, my father was going to be devastated. But he'd also be the first one to demand justice once he saw this.

I stopped recording and sent the video to three places: my personal email, Aria's phone with a message to not open it unless something happened to me, and a hidden folder in my cloud storage. Then I deleted it from my phone's camera roll. If Jeremy got suspicious and checked my phone, he wouldn't find anything.

Only then did I run.

I made it to the pack house entrance before the tears started again, blurring my vision as I stumbled toward the parking lot. My little sedan looked like salvation. I practically threw myself inside, locking the doors before the sobs took over completely.

Five minutes. I gave myself five minutes to fall apart.

Then I started the engine and drove home to the small house Jeremy and I shared on the edge of pack territory. A "starter home," he'd called it, though now I wondered if he'd always planned for it to be temporary. Maybe he'd already picked out the mansion where he'd live with Vanessa after I was discarded.

The house was empty when I arrived, thank God. Jeremy wouldn't be home for hours—probably not until after he'd thoroughly satisfied himself with his "best friend."

I moved through the rooms like a ghost, trying to figure out what to take, what mattered. Everything here felt contaminated now, tainted by his lies. But I forced myself to be practical.

Clothes. I pulled out a large duffel bag and started stuffing it with essentials. Jeans, shirts, underwear, my favorite sweater that had belonged to my grandmother. I left behind anything Jeremy had bought me. I didn't want his gifts, his claims on me.

Documents. My birth certificate, passport, the title to my car that was solely in my name—thank the Moon Goddess I'd insisted on that. My college transcripts. The small amount of jewelry my mother had left me when she died.

Money. I'd been saving for years in a separate account Jeremy didn't know about, money from the part-time job I'd kept despite his protests that "his mate didn't need to work." I'd always told myself it was for emergencies.

This definitely qualified.

I grabbed my laptop, my phone charger, and the framed photo of my parents from my nightstand. Everything else could burn for all I cared.

The hardest part was my wolf. She was howling in my head, a constant keen of pain that made my hands shake and my chest ache. The mate bond was screaming at us to stay, to wait for him, to try to fix this somehow.

But beneath the bond's pull was something stronger—her rage. She'd never liked Vanessa, had always sensed the threat. And she was done being ignored.

*We leave,* she snarled in my mind. *We run. We survive.*

I was throwing the last of my things in the car when my phone rang. My father's name flashed across the screen.

My heart seized. Did he know already? Had someone told him?

"Hey, Dad," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Emma, sweetheart. I just wanted to check in. Your mother's anniversary is coming up next week, and I thought we could visit her grave together. Maybe have dinner after?"

My mother. God, I'd almost forgotten. It would be fifteen years since the rogue attack that took her life.

"I'd like that," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Dad, I—"

I almost told him everything. Almost broke down and confessed what I'd discovered, what Jeremy had done. But something stopped me. If I told him now, he'd come over. He'd confront Jeremy. And I needed to be gone first. Needed to be somewhere safe before everything exploded.

"I love you," I said instead. "I need you to know that. No matter what happens."

Silence on the other end. Then, carefully: "Emma? Is something wrong?"

"I just miss Mom today. That's all."

He didn't believe me—I could hear it in his pause. But he respected my privacy enough not to push. "I love you too, sweetheart. Always. And I'm here if you need me. For anything."

"I know, Dad. I'll call you soon, okay?"

After we hung up, I sat in my car and let myself cry one more time. For my mother, who'd never get to see me truly mated and happy. For my father, who was about to watch his daughter's marriage implode. For the future I'd believed in that morning.

Then I wiped my face, started the engine, and began to drive.

I didn't have a destination yet. Just away. Away from Jeremy, away from Vanessa, away from the Crescent Moon pack and all its politics and expectations.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jeremy: "Running late at the office. Don't wait up for dinner."

I almost laughed. The audacity. The shamelessness.

I typed back: "No problem. Take your time."

Let him think everything was fine. Let him believe I was home, waiting like a good little mate, completely oblivious to his betrayal.

By the time he realized I was gone, I'd be long past pack borders.

And then, when the moment was right, I'd destroy him.

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

I stared at Emma's text message, my wolf pacing restlessly in my mind.

"No problem. Take your time."

Five words. Simple, polite, exactly what Emma would normally say. So why did they feel wrong?

"Jeremy? Baby, are you even listening to me?" Vanessa's irritated voice cut through my thoughts. She was sprawled across my office couch now, completely naked, looking at me with those sharp blue eyes that usually excited me but now just seemed... calculating.

"Yeah, sorry. Just work stuff." I pulled on my pants, suddenly uncomfortable with my own nakedness.

My wolf snarled, agitated in a way he hadn't been in months. Something's wrong, he kept insisting. Something's off.

I'd learned to ignore him when it came to Emma. He'd been resistant to her from the start, even though the mate bond had snapped into place clear as day. He wanted Vanessa—had always wanted Vanessa. We'd grown up together, trained together, planned our future together. Everyone knew we'd end up as Alpha and Luna.

Then the Moon Goddess had other ideas.

"You're thinking about her again." Vanessa sat up, annoyance sharpening her features. "I can always tell when you're thinking about that mousy little Beta's daughter."

"I'm not—" But I was. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Emma never texted like that. She was usually more... effusive. Lots of emojis, complete sentences about her day, questions about mine. This was too short. Too casual.

Too controlled.

"I should probably head home," I said, grabbing my shirt.

"Are you serious right now?" Vanessa stood, stalking toward me with predatory grace. "We finally have time alone and you want to run home to her?"

"It's not like that. I just—"

"You just what? Feel guilty?" She laughed, cruel and sharp. "Please. You were literally just inside me, telling me how much better I am than her. Don't get cold feet now, Jeremy."

She was right. I had said that. And it was true—sex with Vanessa was passionate, wild, everything I'd imagined it would be since we were teenagers. Emma was... sweet. Gentle. Boring, if I was honest with myself.

But Emma was also the Beta's daughter. Emma came with political advantages. Emma would give me legitimate heirs that no one could question.

And Emma was supposed to be home, waiting for me, completely unaware that I was planning to use her and discard her.

So why did my wolf keep insisting something was wrong?

"I'm just going to text her again," I said, pulling out my phone. "Make sure everything's okay."

I typed: "Hey, beautiful. Miss you. Can't wait to come home to you tonight ❤️"

The response came almost immediately: "Miss you too. Safe travels."

Safe travels? I frowned at the screen. I wasn't traveling. I was twenty minutes away at the pack house.

My wolf's agitation ratcheted up another notch. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

"Vanessa, I need to go."

"You're being ridiculous. She's fine. She's probably just baking something or reading one of those terrible romance novels she likes. That's all she ever does."

That was true enough. Emma was predictable, routine-oriented. She'd be curled up on our couch right now with a book and a cup of tea, maybe some ridiculous baking competition show on in the background.

Except my wolf didn't believe it. And neither, I was realizing, did I.

I finished dressing quickly, ignoring Vanessa's complaints. "I'll call you later."

"Don't bother," she snapped. "Not unless you're ready to actually commit to me instead of stringing me along while you play house with that pathetic—"

I left before she could finish, my wolf's anxiety bleeding into my own thoughts. The drive home felt longer than it should have, every red light an agonizing delay.

I tried calling Emma. It rang four times before going to voicemail.

She always answered my calls. Always.

I called again. Voicemail.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Emma, hey, just checking in. Call me back, okay?"

The house was dark when I pulled into the driveway. Emma's car was gone.

That wasn't unusual—she could be at the grocery store, at Aria's place, running errands. But combined with the strange texts and the unanswered calls, my wolf was practically clawing to get out.

I unlocked the front door and immediately knew.

The house felt empty. Not just quiet—empty in a way that raised every hair on the back of my neck.

"Emma?" I called out, flipping on lights as I moved through the rooms.

No response.

Her shoes weren't by the door. Her purse wasn't on the counter. I took the stairs two at a time up to our bedroom.

Half the closet was empty. Her dresser drawers hung open, most of her clothes gone. The framed photo of her parents that always sat on her nightstand—gone.

"No. No, no, no." I pulled out my phone and called her again. Straight to voicemail this time. She'd turned it off.

I tried the mate bond, reaching for her through that invisible thread that connected us. But where I should have felt her presence, her emotions, there was just... distance. Like she was actively blocking me out.

How long had she been able to do that?

I raced back downstairs, looking for clues, for anything that would tell me where she'd gone or why. The mail sat unopened on the counter. Dishes in the sink from breakfast. Everything looked normal except for the gaping absence of her things.

My wolf was howling now, genuine panic setting in. Not because I loved her—I'd never let myself love her. But because if she'd left, if she'd actually found the spine to leave me, everything I'd planned fell apart.

I needed her. Needed her father's support, needed the legitimacy she brought as his daughter, needed the political stability our mating provided. More than that, I needed her compliant and cooperative, not angry and rebellant and gone.

Did she know? Had someone seen Vanessa and me? But no—if she knew, she would have confronted me. Would have cried and screamed and demanded answers. That was Emma's way, wasn't it? Emotional, sensitive, needy.

Except maybe I didn't know Emma as well as I thought.

My phone buzzed. A text from Beta Marcus: "Have you seen Emma? She's not answering her phone and we had plans to discuss the anniversary ceremony."

I stared at the message, my mind racing. If her father didn't know where she was either...

I typed back: "Not sure. She said she had errands. I'll have her call you when she gets home."

The lie came easily. It always did.

But as I stood in our empty house, my wolf snarling warnings I should have heeded hours ago, I couldn't shake the growing certainty that something had gone terribly, irreversibly wrong.

And that somehow, little Emma Smith had outmaneuvered me.

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

I made it two hours past pack borders before I had to pull over.

The tears had been building behind my eyes the entire drive, blurring the highway lines, making my chest tight with the effort of holding them back. I'd kept myself together through sheer willpower, focusing on putting distance between myself and the Crescent Moon pack territory.

But when I saw the sign for a rest stop, my body made the decision my mind couldn't. I yanked the steering wheel right, barely making the exit, and pulled into the farthest corner of the parking lot, away from the few semi-trucks idling near the building.

Then I shattered.

The sobs came from somewhere deep inside, violent and raw, tearing through me like claws. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white, my whole body shaking with the force of my grief.

Jeremy didn't love me. Had never loved me.

The mate bond—the Moon Goddess's sacred gift—meant nothing to him. I was just an inconvenience. A broodmare. Something to use and throw away when he was done.

*"I never said I loved her. I said the mate bond chose her. There's a difference."*

His words echoed in my head, each syllable a fresh knife wound. How many times had I told him I loved him? How many times had I looked into his eyes and seen what I thought was affection reflected back?

All lies. All of it.

And Vanessa. God, Vanessa.

I'd tried so hard to befriend her. Had swallowed my wolf's warnings, my own instincts, because Jeremy told me I was being paranoid. Insecure. Immature.

He'd gaslit me. That was the term, wasn't it? Made me question my own reality, my own perceptions, until I didn't trust myself anymore.

*"She's just teasing, Em. Don't be so sensitive."*

*"Why can't you be more understanding?"*

*"I can't cut her out of my life because you're insecure."*

Every time I'd brought up my discomfort with their relationship, he'd made me feel like the problem. Like I was the one being unreasonable, jealous, difficult.

And I'd believed him. I'd actually believed that I was the broken one, that something was wrong with me for not being okay with my mate's intimate friendship with another woman.

A fresh wave of sobs overtook me. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel, and let myself cry for the girl I'd been this morning. The naive, trusting fool who'd baked cookies for a man who was planning to impregnate and abandon her.

My phone buzzed in the cupholder. Jeremy's name flashed across the screen for the sixth time.

I watched it ring, feeling nothing but a hollow ache where my heart used to be. The mate bond tugged at me, trying to compel me to answer, to return, to forgive. But I'd blocked him as much as I could, pushing him to the furthest corners of my consciousness.

Let him wonder. Let him worry. Let him feel even a fraction of the uncertainty and pain I was drowning in.

The phone went silent, then immediately buzzed with a text: "Emma, where are you? I'm worried. Please call me."

Worried. He was worried.

Not sorry. Not apologetic. Just worried that his carefully laid plans were falling apart.

Another text came through, this time from Aria: "Jeremy just called me asking if you're here. What's going on? Are you okay?"

I typed back with shaking fingers: "I'm safe. Can't talk about it yet. Please don't tell him anything if he calls again."

Her response was immediate: "Done. I've got your back. Always. Text me when you can ❤️"

Aria. My best friend since elementary school. One of the few people in my life who'd never made me feel less than, who'd celebrated my mating to Jeremy even though I knew she'd had her doubts about him.

I should have listened to her. Should have paid attention when she'd carefully, diplomatically suggested that maybe Jeremy's relationship with Vanessa was "a little unusual for an already-mated male."

But I'd defended him. Made excuses. Insisted that their friendship was innocent, that the mate bond meant Jeremy would never betray me.

The Moon Goddess had chosen us, after all. That was supposed to mean something.

Except it didn't. Not to Jeremy.

I lifted my head, catching sight of myself in the rearview mirror. My eyes were red and swollen, mascara streaking down my cheeks. I looked destroyed. Broken.

I looked exactly how I felt.

My wolf whimpered in my mind, her pain mirroring my own. The mate bond was hurting her too, trying to drag us back to Jeremy despite everything we knew. It was biological, instinctual, beyond our control.

But we were stronger than our instincts. We had to be.

*We survive this,* I told her, trying to pour conviction into the words. *We heal. We become something he never expected.*

She didn't respond, too lost in her own grief. I couldn't blame her. We'd both believed in the bond, in the promise of forever with our mate.

Now we had nothing but an open highway and a duffel bag of belongings.

I pulled some napkins from my glove box and tried to clean my face, though it was mostly futile. The tears kept coming, slower now but no less painful.

My mother would have known what to do. She'd been strong, fierce, everything a Beta's mate should be. Even when she was dying from the rogue attack, she'd held my hand and told me to be brave, to trust in the Moon Goddess, to believe in the goodness of my fated mate when I found him.

"The mate bond is sacred, Emma," she'd whispered, her life fading with each word. "Treasure it. Honor it. Your mate will be your greatest blessing."

I'd carried those words in my heart for fifteen years. Had believed them with everything I was.

Another lie. Another broken promise from a universe that seemed determined to take everything I loved.

I pulled out my phone and opened my email, staring at the video I'd sent myself. Proof of Jeremy's betrayal, insurance for my freedom.

But looking at it now, at the thumbnail of him with Vanessa, I felt something shift inside me.

The crying slowed. Stopped.

A different emotion was rising through the grief—something harder, colder, more dangerous.

Anger.

Jeremy thought I was weak. Thought I was controllable, compliant, easy to manipulate. He'd built his entire plan around my supposed docility.

He was about to learn exactly how wrong he was.

I started the engine, my hands steady now despite the tears still drying on my face.

I didn't know where I was going yet. Didn't have a plan beyond survive and stay hidden.

But I knew one thing with absolute certainty: Jeremy Trent had underestimated me for the last time.

And when I was ready—when I was strong enough—I would make sure he regretted ever taking me for granted.