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.

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

Three days. Emma had been gone for three days, and I still had no idea where she was.

I sat in my father's office, trying to maintain some semblance of composure while Beta Marcus paced in front of the desk like a caged animal. Alpha Richard Trent watched us both with the calculating gaze that had kept him in power for thirty years.

"Let me make sure I understand this correctly," Marcus said, his voice deadly calm in a way that made my wolf flatten his ears. "My daughter has been missing for seventy-two hours, her phone is off, she's not responding to anyone, and you—her mate—have no idea where she is or why she left?"

"I've told you everything I know," I said, fighting to keep my own voice steady. "I came home from work and she was gone. Some of her things were missing. That's it."

"That's it?" Marcus's eyes flashed gold as his wolf surged forward. "My daughter doesn't just vanish without a reason, Jeremy. What happened? Did you fight? Did you do something to her?"

The accusation in his tone made my hackles rise. "I didn't do anything. We were fine. Everything was fine."

"Was it?" My father's quiet question cut through the tension. He was studying me with an intensity that made me want to squirm like a pup caught stealing from the kitchens. "Because Marcus is right. Emma isn't the type to run without cause. She's responsible, loyal, committed to this pack."

Committed. The word twisted something in my gut.

She had been committed. To me, to us, to the future I'd promised her while planning to throw her away. And somehow, she'd figured it out.

She had to have figured it out. There was no other explanation for why she'd leave so cleanly, so completely, taking only what was hers and disappearing like smoke.

But how? I'd been careful. Vanessa and I had always been discreet, or so I thought. We used my office, never anywhere public, never anywhere Emma would—

The cookies.

The memory hit me like a physical blow. I'd been with Vanessa in my office three days ago, and when I'd left, there had been cookies scattered in the hallway outside my door. Chocolate chip cookies.

Emma's chocolate chip cookies.

"Oh, fuck," I breathed.

"What?" Marcus demanded, stepping closer. "What did you just remember?"

I couldn't tell him. Couldn't admit that I'd been screwing Vanessa in my office while his daughter stood outside the door. He'd kill me. Actually kill me, Alpha's son or not.

"Nothing. I just—I remembered that Emma mentioned wanting to visit some old college friends. Maybe she went there?"

The lie sounded weak even to my own ears, and Marcus's expression said he wasn't buying it for a second.

"Her college friends live in Silverbrook Pack territory," Marcus said slowly. "I already called Alpha Morrison. She's not there, and none of her friends have heard from her."

Of course he'd already checked. Marcus wasn't just a Beta—he was a father terrified for his missing daughter.

Guilt twisted in my stomach. I shoved it down. I couldn't afford guilt right now. I needed to find Emma, needed to fix this before it spiraled completely out of control.

"The mate bond," my father said suddenly. "Jeremy, can you feel her through the bond? Get a sense of her location, her emotional state?"

I'd been avoiding reaching for the bond, afraid of what I might find. But with both of them staring at me expectantly, I had no choice.

I closed my eyes and searched for that invisible thread connecting me to Emma. It was there, faint but present, which meant she was alive at least. But she'd blocked me almost completely, keeping me out with a strength I didn't know she possessed.

When had she learned to do that?

I pushed harder, trying to sense something, anything. All I got was a wall of ice and a flash of emotion so cold it made me flinch.

Rage. Emma was absolutely furious.

"She's alive," I said, opening my eyes. "But she's blocking me. I can barely feel her."

Marcus's face went pale. "She's blocking her own mate? That takes considerable strength and effort. Jeremy, what the hell did you do to my daughter?"

"I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me!" Marcus slammed his hand on my father's desk, making us both jump. "Emma adores you. She's spent the last six months trying to be the perfect mate, the perfect future Luna. She doesn't just block you out and disappear unless you gave her a damn good reason."

He was right. I knew he was right. But admitting it meant admitting everything—the affair with Vanessa, the plan to use Emma and discard her, the complete betrayal of the mate bond.

"Son." My father's voice was quiet but firm. "Is there something you need to tell us?"

I met his eyes and saw the question there. He suspected. Maybe he'd always suspected my relationship with Vanessa wasn't as innocent as I claimed.

"No," I said. "Emma and I are fine. Were fine. I don't know why she left."

The lie sat heavy on my tongue, but I couldn't take it back now.

Marcus looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before—disappointment mixed with something darker. "If I find out you hurt my daughter, Jeremy, I don't care if you're the Alpha's son. I don't care about pack politics or alliances. I will make you regret ever laying eyes on her."

It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

"Marcus," my father said carefully. "I understand your concern, but threatening my son—"

"Is exactly what I'll keep doing until I have answers." Marcus turned to face my father fully. "With all due respect, Alpha, that's my daughter out there somewhere. Alone. Scared. Running from something or someone. And her own mate can't even be bothered to show real concern."

The words hit harder than they should have. Because he was right—I wasn't concerned about Emma's wellbeing. I was concerned about what her disappearance meant for me, for my plans, for my future.

When had I become this person? When had I started caring more about Vanessa, about politics, about my own desires than about my mate?

"I want to help find her," I said, surprised to realize I meant it. At least partially. "Tell me what I can do."

Marcus studied me for a long moment. "You can start by being honest. About everything. Because Emma didn't just wake up one day and decide to abandon her mate and her pack. Something drove her away. And I'm going to find out what."

He left without another word, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the windows.

My father and I sat in silence for several minutes.

"Jeremy," he finally said. "I'm going to ask you one question, and I want the truth. Did you cheat on your mate?"

I should have lied. Should have denied it, protected myself, maintained the fiction.

Instead, I found myself saying, "It's complicated."

My father closed his eyes, disappointment radiating from him in waves. "Get out of my office."

"Dad—"

"Out. Now. Before I forget you're my son and remember I'm the Alpha of this pack."

I left, my wolf whining in distress at the anger and disappointment from both our Alpha and our Beta.

But beneath it all was something else. Something I didn't want to acknowledge.

Fear.

Because Emma had outmaneuvered me completely. And I had no idea what she was planning to do next.