My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147

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Chapter 147

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

The kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary-a roast I was attempting for the pack dinner tonight. Grace was in her playpen in the corner, babbling at her toys with the intense focus only a thirteen-month-old could manage. She’d just started walking last week, and now everything was an adventure that required immediate toddling investigation.

I was chopping vegetables when I felt him enter the room. That particular shift in air pressure that announced Lord Castellan’s presence before he made a sound.

He didn’t say anything. Just pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat, watching me work with that unnerving stillness that vampires did so well.

It had been a year since the Council representatives had come to our pack house. A year since we’d refused their offers and committed fully to the vampire-wolf alliance. A year of hunting down Council operatives, dismantling their regional networks, eliminating threats one by one.

The last confirmed Council operative had been neutralized six months ago. We’d declared victory. Celebrated. Relaxed our security protocols slightly.

And Lord Castellan had never left.

Oh, he traveled sometimes. Disappeared for days or weeks to handle coven business or follow up on intelligence. But he always came back. Always resumed his position in our lives like he belonged there.

He’d never called in the debt. Never even mentioned it.

Instead, he’d become-I wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Not family, exactly, though Grace had started saying something that sounded suspiciously like “Cas” when she saw him. Not just an ally either. Something in between. Something I didn’t have words for.

I continued chopping carrots, letting the silence stretch. He’d speak when he was ready. Or he wouldn’t. With Lord Castellan, it was hard to predict.

Grace made an excited sound from her playpen. I glanced over to see her pulling herself up on the bars, looking directly at Lord Castellan with that delighted expression she got when she saw someone she liked.

“Cas!” she announced proudly.

Something flickered across his face. The same expression I’d seen a dozen times over the past year whenever Grace interacted with him. Soft. Almost vulnerable. The mask dropping just long enough to see the ancient grief underneath before he composed himself again.

“Hello, Grace,” he said quietly. “Playing with your blocks?”

“Block!” she agreed enthusiastically, holding up a red cube. Then she promptly threw it at him.

He caught it without looking, still watching me chop vegetables.

“You’re wondering why I’m still here,” he said. Not a question.

“The thought has crossed my mind.” I moved on to the celery. “The Council threat was eliminated six months ago. You have a coven to run. Political obligations across multiple territories. Yet you’re sitting in my kitchen watching

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me make pot roast.”

“I like pot roast.”

“You don’t eat food.”

“I appreciate the aroma.” He was quiet for a moment. “Emma, the official Council threat was eliminated six months ago. The operatives we knew about. The networks we’d mapped. The leadership we’d identified.”

The way he emphasized “official” and “knew about” made my knife still on the cutting board.

“There’s more,” I said. Not a question either.

“There’s always more.” He set Grace’s block on the table, watching it like it held answers. “The Council has existed for eight hundred years because they’re patient. Because they plan in generations. Because they don’t put all their resources into operations we can track.”

“So the threat isn’t gone.”

“The immediate threat is gone. The operatives who were actively planning against Grace are eliminated. But the ideology? The organizational structure? The resources?” He finally looked at me. “Those don’t disappear just because we killed some foot soldiers and mid-level leadership.”

I resumed chopping with more force than necessary. “How long have you known this?”

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