My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

The plan had been for Emma to stay at the pack house in the fortified safe room with maximum security. She’d agreed. Promised. Said she’d follow protocols.

But when the alarms blared at 3 AM, she was still at my house.

We’d talked strategy until midnight–my father, Marcus, Emma, me, and half the council. Mapping out defensive positions, coordinating with allied packs, planning extraction routes. By the time we finished, it was too late for Emma to safely cross pack lands to the pack house.

“She stays here tonight,” my father had decided. “Triple guard on this location. In the morning, we move her to the safe room.”

So Emma had taken the guest room while I attempted to sleep in my own bed, knowing she was just down the hall. Knowing Black River was out there, positioning, waiting

The alarms shattered the fragile peace at 3:17 AM.

Loud, piercing wails that meant one thing: breach. They were here.

I was moving before I fully woke, grabbing clothes, shoving my feet into boots. I could hear Emma doing the same in the guest room, her movements quick and efficient

“Emma!” I shouted. “Stay in your room! Lock the door!”

“Like hell!” She emerged, already dressed, her eyes fierce. “I’m not hiding while—”

Gunshots. Close. Too close. 1

Glass shattered downstairs. Shouting. Snarling. The sounds of fighting erupting through the house.

My father burst through my bedroom door, Marcus right behind him. Both were partially shifted–eyes glowing wolf–gold, claws extended, moving with predatory grace.

“They breached the perimeter,” my father said, his voice a growl. “Twenty wolves, minimum. Professional formation. Jeremy, get Emma to the basement. Marcus, with me. We hold them here.”

“I’m not leaving you to- –” I started.

That’s

“That’s an order!” His Alpha command rolled through the room with physical force. “Protect Emma. That’s your job right now. We’ll handle the assault.”

More gunshots. The sound of bodies hitting walls. Something heavy crashed through the kitchen below.

“Go!” Marcus grabbed weapons from the hall closet–silver blades, firearms. “Now, both of you! Basement, lock the reinforced door, don’t come out until one of us gives the all–clear!”

Emma and I ran for the basement stairs as my father and Marcus headed down to meet the assault. I could hear them shifting fully, their wolves emerging with savage snarls.

The basement was designed for exactly this–reinforced walls, steel door, communication equipment. I shoved Emma inside and was following when the front door exploded inward.

Through the chaos, I caught glimpses: wolves in tactical formation, moving with military precision. Not the chaotic violence of typical rogues. This was coordinated. Professional.

“Jeremy!” Emma’s hand grabbed my arm, trying to pull me into the basement.

+15 Bonus

But I couldn’t. Not when my father was up there. Not when the pack was under assault.

“I have to help them,” I said

“No! You promised to keep me safe! That means staying alive!”

She was right. My job was protecting Emma. But watching my father fight while I hid —

An enforcer came crashing through the wall beside us, his body broken and bleeding. Dead or dying, I couldn’t tell.

“Basement. Now.” I shoved Emma toward the stairs. “Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me or your father.”

“Jeremy-”

“Please!” I met her eyes. “Please, Emma. I need to know you’re safe. I can’t fight if I’m worried about you.”

She nodded once, sharp, then disappeared down the stairs. I heard the steel door slam, the locks engaging.

Good she was as safe as I could make her.

I shifted, my wolf emerging with a fury I hadn’t felt since the last attack. These bastards had come to my home. Threatened my mate. Endangered my pack.

They were going to regret it.

I charged into the main room where my father and Marcus were holding off six mercenaries. The wolves moved with terrifying efficiency–flanking, feinting, coordinating without verbal communication.

I hit the nearest one from the side, my jaws finding his shoulder. He twisted away, fast and trained, but not fast enough. My claws raked across his ribs, drawing blood.

“Outside!” My father’s voice boomed through the mind–link. “They’re herding us outside! It’s a trap!”

But we didn’t have a choice. There were too many of them in the confined space of the house. We needed room to maneuver.

We burst through what remained of the front door into chaos.

The pack house grounds were a battlefield. Wolves everywhere ours in defensive formations, theirs in coordinated assault teams. I spotted at least thirty mercenaries. More than our intelligence had predicted.

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