When You Were My Mate (Demetra and Emris) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Demetra Pride Covenant.

“So. How’s it been, Luna?”

“Oh, please.”

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I take a long sip of my martini lemon, cold, perfect while Sabrina and Tiffany watch me from either side like I’m their personal entertainment for the evening. The bar is loud and warm and smells like good drinks and other people’s problems, which is exactly the energy I needed tonight. I’m sandwiched between my two friends, my skirt is cute, and for approximately the next three hours I am not a Luna.

“Haven’t I already given you full breakdown? Multiple times?” I set the glass down. “I got blamed for Elena getting hurt when she wasn’t even supposed to be in the pack house in the first place. The kids hate each other, and-”

“Let me guess, Emrissss…” Sabrina twirls her finger in her hair and draws his name out across approximately four syllables, already on her second glass, the drinks clearly doing their job.

I pout at her.

She’s not wrong. I’ve mentioned him approximately seventeen times tonight and I’ve also made it very clear….repeatedly, on the record that what he and I have is nothing more than a marriage of convenience, and I want nothing to do with him beyond what that arrangement requires.

“I wish I’d been there to see Elena’s leg,” Tiffany says, and she and Sabrina immediately dissolve into laughter that makes the bartender glance over with mild concern

“It was genuinely bad,” I say, while they’re still cackling. “And Milo saw it. He came in while the doctors were-”

More laughter. I give up trying to make them feel appropriately guilty about this.

“You two are terrible people.”

“How’s Slade?” I ask, changing the subject before I throw my martini at both of them. “He hasn’t been replying to any of my messages, and I’m too afraid to meet him face to face.”

Tiffany slowly turns to look at Sabrina.

Sabrina looks at her drink.

“Well, Sabrina can probably answer that one. She’s been keeping him in a very good mooooood lately.”

Tiffany says it in a funny way that means something else entirely. I squint, remembering exactly how that day at the Lion Pride pack went. When we came back from the club, Sabrina was in our house instead of being at home.

“Oh.” I just say.

“Don’t ‘oh.”

Tiffany is already losing it beside me.

“You and Slade, huh?” I smile despite myself. “I guess Aunt Scotty was successful with her match.”

Sabrina shrugs, but her cheeks go pink. “Well, since you want information about how he’s doing…he’s fine. At first he was angry, but with a few talks and a few… other things… he’s more… just annoyed at you for leaving with Emris and marrying him.” She stirs her drink thoughtfully. “You guys will have to figure that out.”

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12:37 Tue, Apr 21

Chapter 110

I bite my lip.

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“What about Seth?” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I called him and he said it was fine, but… how could it actually be fine? I left him waiting and bonded someone else.”

“Demetra.” Sabrina gives me the look that means stop catastrophizing for five seconds. “My brother is a smart man. He understands what it means to be up against someone like Emris. He doesn’t blame you. And honestly? If Seth had married you, we might genuinely be attending a very sad funeral right cause who knows what Emris would have done to him.”

“Sabrina-”

“I’m being factual, not mean.”

“Can we please talk about literally anyone other than Emris for the rest of tonight?”

“Sure,” Tiffany says immediately. “Let’s talk about Elena’s leg instead.”

Sabrina almost spits out her drink at what Tiffany says. Instead, she just coughs really badly while I pat her back, thumping between her shoulder blades. All of a sudden, it clicks to me that the girls asked about why Elena is in the pack house before I even got to that part of the story.

“Wait – how did you two even know Elena was back in the pack house before I told you?”

Tiffany reaches for her phone.

“Because,” she turns the screen toward me, “she posted about it.”

I take the phone.

It’s a Finsta post of Elena on her internet account, in a silk robe, sitting on a bed surrounded by what appears to be every item she purchased with the platinum card I confiscated earlier. She’s smiling at the camera and the caption reads: my son is my life, hashtag blackconvenantpack.

“What the “I catch myself before I go full volume, which takes genuine effort given that the music in here is loud enough to absorb most things. When did she post this? Does this mean everyone can see she’s back in the pack house while the actual Luna is also in the pack house? Does she understand what she’s done-

“If you don’t know she posted this, then you probably don’t know that basically everyone in the country knows Elena’s back in the pack house where the Luna is?” Sabrina says.

“Plus, your followers have increased to a whopping Four million.” Tiffany grabs her phone back and scrolls through my profile. “Surpassing Elena by 900,000. If you grew this fast in a couple of what… two weeks of being Luna? Then hey, you’re gonna be like ten million by this month ending.”

She seems excited as she does the calculation on her fingers, counting like it’s Monopoly money. Meanwhile, I’m fuming that Elena is really getting comfortable staying in the pack house like she thinks she’s going to be there forever.

“Oh wait.” Tiffany’s eyes go wide as she scrolls. “Emris’ followers have gone up to fifty-eight million.”

“What?”

She holds the phone out and I actually take it this time, because that number doesn’t make sense until I’m looking at it directly. Fifty-eight million followers. I scroll up to his profile automatically and the grid is minimal with infrequent posts, nothing performative and I find his bio.

Alpha, Black Covenant Pack.

That’s it. No emojis. No Just the barest possible confirmation that he exists and would prefer not to be bothered, and fifty- eight million people have decided that’s enough reason to follow him.

Chapter 110

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I’m about to scroll down through the posts, genuinely curious now in a way I’m not proud of, when Tiffany reaches over and pulls the phone back out of my hand with the clean efficiency of a pickpocket.

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