My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 89

Ellapier Su

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“Have they? Ut are you just afraid of what it says about you if you hand her over? A pause. “Jeremy, I’ve done my research. I know about the affair. Know about your plan to use her as a broodmare. Know you only started caring about her after she nearly died. That’s not love. That’s guilt.”

“You don’t know anything about us.”

“I know numbers. I know that you’re facing one hundred and fifty professional killers with barely a hundred wolves, many of whom have families. Children. Mates of their own.” His voice turned almost reasonable. “How many of them will die for your guilty conscience?”

“They’re not dying for my conscience. They’re fighting to protect their Luna.”

“A Luma who wasn’t good enough for you until it was almost too late.” He let that sink in. “Here’s what’s going to happen. In seventy–two hours, we attack. We’ll come at dawn, from three directions simultaneously. Your wolves will fight bravely. They’ll die bravely. And in the end, we’ll still find Emma Smith and complete our contract.”

“You’ll have to go through all of us first.”

“That’s the plan.” A pause. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. You have seventy–two hours to reconsider. Hand over the female. Save your pack. Live with the guilt of sacrificing your mate–assuming you even care about her enough for it to bother you.”

“I’m not handing her over.”

“Then I’ll see you on the battlefield, Future Alpha. Try not to die too quickly. I’ve been looking forward to killing you personally.”

The line went dead.

I stood in the hallway, phone still pressed to my ear, my wolf snarling and pacing in my head. One hundred and fifty wolves. Seventy–two hours. An offer to trade Emma’s life for the pack’s survival.

“Jeremy?” My father appeared in the doorway. “Who was that?”

“The mercenary leader.” I turned to face him. “Dad, we have a problem.”

Ten minutes later, the entire war room knew. One hundred and fifty enemies instead of a hundred. A coordinated three–pronged attack at dawn in three days. An offer–trade Emma for everyone’s survival.

“That’s not even a question,” Marcus said immediately, his eyes flashing gold. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists. We don’t hand over pack members to mercenaries.”

“Agreed,” my father said. “But we need to adjust our defensive strategy. One hundred and fifty wolves changes everything.”

“We’re outnumbered forty percent,” Elder Morrison said grimly. “Even with allied support and defensive positions, those odds are-”

“Unacceptable,” I interrupted. “Which is why we don’t fight defensively. We take the fight to them.”

The room went silent.

“Explain,” my father commanded.

“They’re expecting us to turtle up. To protect pack lands and wait for them to attack. That’s the defensive playbook.” I moved to the map. “But we know their numbers now. Know they’re consolidating in neutral territory. If we strike first, hit them before they’re fully coordinated-”

“That’s suicide,” one of the Silverbrook wolves said. “Attacking a superior force in the field?”

“It’s unexpected,” I countered. “They’ve spent weeks planning an assault on our fortifications. They’re not prepared for us to bring the fight to them.”

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My father studied the map, his expression thoughtful. “It’s risky.”

“Everything’s risky. But Dad, if we wait for them to attack on their terms, we’re fighting a defensive battle against overwhelming numbers. If we attack first, we choose the battlefield, the timing, the terms of engagement.”

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