Unmatched Wife: Not His To Claim Anymore novel Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

BIANCA

“To enter BloodMoon City.” I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “Matthew told me about BloodMoon once, back when I still mattered to him. He said it was nearly impossible to get entry clearance. That the Alpha King shut down most of the borders after his wife died, and he rarely approves new residents. Matthew tried to establish business connections here multiple times and was rejected every time.”

The car fell silent except for the soft hum of the engine and the city sounds filtering through the windows.

“I knew someone at the Immigration Office,” Rivera finally said, his tone carefully neutral. “Someone who owed me a favor. And besides, you have the potential to be an excellent healer here. It’s not as if the Alpha King is losing anything by approving your entry. If anything, BloodMoon General Hospital benefits from having someone with your skills and experience.”

There was something in his voice–something slightly defensive, maybe, or dismissive–that made me pay closer

attention.

“You don’t like him much, do you? The Alpha King?”

Rivera’s shoulders tensed slightly, though his hands remained steady on the wheel. “He’s just an old geezer. Not important.”

“An old geezer who apparently controls one of the most powerful cities in the territory,” I pointed out. “And who rejected Matthew’s business proposals multiple times. That seems fairly important.”

“The Alpha King has his own way of doing things.” Rivera’s voice was flat now, clearly wanting to end this line of ⚫ conversation. “He’s protective of his city, selective about who he allows in. But he’s not unreasonable when

presented with genuine talent and need. Your medical skills speak for themselves, Bianca. That’s why your clearance was approved.”

I studied his reflection in the mirror, noting the tight set of his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel just a bit too firmly. There was history there–something personal, maybe, or professional. Whatever it was, Rivera clearly didn’t want to discuss it.

“Well, I appreciate you pulling strings,” I said, deciding to let it drop, “I know how valuable connections like that

are.”

“It was nothing.” His shoulders relaxed slightly. “You needed help, and I was in a position to provide it. That’s all.

Louis, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, suddenly piped up. “Are we almost home? I want to show Dr. Bianca my room!”

“Almost, buddy. Five more minutes.”

I settled back against the seat, watching the city pass by through the window. BloodMoon City was beautiful in a way Silver Moon territory had never been–cleaner, more organized, with architecture that managed to blend modern efficiency with old–world charm.

The buildings were tall but not overwhelming, spaced with parks and green spaces that suggested careful urban planning rather than haphazard growth.

“It’s different here,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

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Chapter 37

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“Different how?” Rivera asked, glancing at me in the mirror again.

“Peaceful. Orderly. Silver Moon always felt chaotic, like everyone was competing for space and resources. This feels… intentional. Like someone actually cares about making it livable rather than just profitable.”

“The Alpha King is very particular about city planning,” Rivera said, and there was that strange tone again–not quite respect, not quite resentment, something complicated in between. “He believes a well–ordered city creates well–ordered lives. It’s one of the few things he does right.”

“What are the other things he does wrong?” I couldn’t help asking, my medical curiosity about human behavior getting the better of me.

Rivera was quiet for a long moment, navigating a turn onto a tree–lined street where the houses got larger and more impressive with every passing minute.

“He’s isolated,” he finally said. “After his wife died, he withdrew from almost everything. He runs the city efficiently, but he doesn’t really live in it anymore. Just… exists. Going through the motions without any real engagement or joy. It’s a waste of a life, if you ask me.”

There was real emotion in those words….frustration, maybe, or disappointment. Like Rivera had expected better from someone he’d once respected.

“That’s sad,” I said quietly, thinking of my own recent loss. Not a death, but an ending nonetheless. “Grief can do that to people. Make them retreat so far into themselves that they forget how to come back out.”

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