My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

The safe house was three hours north, deep in neutral territory where no pack had claim. We’d driven in silence, Jeremy checking the rearview mirror every few minutes, his jaw tight with tension.

I felt like a coward.

While my pack–my father, the enforcers, wolves I’d trained with–cleaned up the battlefield and mourned their dead, I was running. Hiding. Letting others fight my battles.

“Stop,” Jeremy said quietly, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking. I can see it on your face. The guilt. The feeling like you should be back there.” He glanced at me briefly, “Emma, you’re not a coward. You’re the target. The reason they attacked. Getting you to safety isn’t running—it’s strategy.”

“Three wolves died because of me.”

“Three wolves died because fifty mercenaries attacked our pack,” he corrected firmly. “Not because of you. Because of Vanessa’s hired killers. Don’t take that on yourself.”

But how could I not? Those wolves had families. Mates. Children, maybe. And they’d died protecting me from a threat that only

existed because of Jeremy’s affair.

I didn’t say that out loud. We’d been through too much therapy for me to weaponize guilt like that. But I thought it. And from the way Jeremy’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, he was thinking it too.

The safe house finally appeared as dawn broke – a small cabin nestled in a valley, surrounded by dense forest. Remote. Isolated. The kind of place you’d never find unless you knew exactly where to look

Jeremy parked and immediately went on alert. His eyes scanned the tree line, the surrounding area, every shadow and movement. His whole body was tense, ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.

“Jeremy,” I said gently. “We’re safe here. Your father said only he and my dad know this location.”

“Unless the spy figured it out.” He got out of the car, still scanning. “Stay close to me. Don’t go anywhere alone until I’ve cleared

୮ the house.”

I watched him move toward the cabin with practiced caution–checking windows, testing the door, moving like the soldier he’d become over the past few months. This wasn’t the Jeremy I’d mated. Wasn’t even the guilty, self–destructive Jeremy from therapy.

This was someone new. Harder. Scarred by violence and loss.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

He cleared the house room by room, then finally gestured for me to come inside. “It’s secure. Basic supplies, reinforced doors and windows, Communication equipment in case we need to reach your father.”

I followed him in, taking in the sparse furnishings. One bedroom, one bathroom, a small kitchen and living area. Functional but not comfortable. A place meant for survival, not living.

“How long will we be here?” I asked.

“Until they find the spy. Until they neutralize Black River.” Jeremy set down the bags we’d brought clothes, supplies, weapons.

+15 Bonus

“Could be days. Could be weeks.”

“Weeks.” The word felt heavy. “Alone together”

He caught the implication immediately. Weeks in close quarters. Just the two of us. No therapy sessions to mediate. No pack duties to distract us. Just us, facing each other without buffers.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he offered quickly. “Give you privacy. I know this isn’t—we’re not—”

“Jeremy.” I stopped him. “It’s fine. We’re adults. We can share space without it being weird.”

But it was weird. Everything about this was weird.

Twelve hours ago, I’d been sleeping in his guest room, both of us carefully maintaining distance. Then mercenaries had attacked and suddenly we were pressed together in combat, in fear, in desperate survival.

Now we were supposed to just… exist? In a tiny cabin? For potentially weeks?

“I’m going to make coffee,” I said, needing something normal to focus on. “Do you want some?”

“Please.” He was still at the window, watching. Always watching

I busied myself in the kitchen, grateful for the mundane task. Coffee grounds. Water. The familiar ritual of making something hot and bitter and necessary.