Unmatched Wife: Not His To Claim Anymore novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

MATTHEW

He dissolved into sobs, curling into a ball on his bed, and when I tried to reach for him again, he flinched away from my touch like I was poison.

My own son. Flinching from me. Hating me. And I deserved every bit of it.

I left his room because I couldn’t stand to see his pain anymore, couldn’t face the evidence of what I’d destroyed. In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and tried to breathe through the crushing weight of guilt.

Theo hadn’t eaten in two days. Wouldn’t sleep. Kept calling for his mother in the middle of the night, crying until he exhausted himself. The pediatrician said it was normal grief, that children processed loss differently than adults.

But this wasn’t just loss. This was abandonment. In Theo’s four–year–old mind, his mother had left him because he’d been mean to her, had said he wanted a new mommy, had called her evil.

And I’d let him believe those things. Had encouraged it, even, by allowing Mia to position herself as the better alternative.

Now my son was drowning in guilt and grief, and I had no comfort to offer because I was drowning too.

A knock at the door pulled me from my spiral. Marcus, probably, come to check on us or handle some pack business that I’d been neglecting.

I forced myself to straighten, to force my expression to resemble some composure, and went downstairs to answer the door.

Marcus stood on the porch with his briefcase.

“Alpha. I have some paperwork that requires your signature.

“Fine. Whatever.” I stepped aside to let him in, already turning away. “Just leave them on my desk. I’ll sign them later.”

“They’re time–sensitive, Alpha. The council needs them filed by end of business today.”

I sighed, feeling very tired. “Then bring them to the office. I’ll sign them now.”

We moved to my home office in silence. Marcus spread the documents across my desk in neat stacks, each one flagged with colored tabs indicating where my signature was needed.

I signed mechanically, barely reading the words in front of me. Territory boundary updates–signed. Water rights distribution–signed. Pack alliance renewal–signed.

My mind was elsewhere, replaying moments with Bianca that I’d taken for granted. The way she’d smile when she came home from a good shift at the hospital. The soft sound of her voice when she read to Theo at bedtime.

All gone. All destroyed because I’d been too focused on saving, Mia to see what I was losing.

“Alpha?” Marcus’s voice cut through my thoughts. “That’s the last one.”

I signed the final document without looking, pushed the stack back across the desk, and slumped in my chair.

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“Is there anything else you need?” Marcus asked, his tone oddly gentle.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I rubbed my face with both hands. “How do I fix this, Marcus? How do I help Theo when I can’t even help myself?”

“I don’t know if you can fix this, Alpha.” Marcus’s voice was quiet but firm. “Some things, once broken, can’t be put back together.”

“She’s dead because of me.” The words came out hollow. “I killed her. I forced her into that ritual knowing…..” I stopped, the truth too awful to voice.

But Marcus had no sympathy in his eyes.

“Did you know, Alpha? Did you actually know what that ritual would do to her?”

“I knew it was risky. Dr. Hartwick said there were complications….”

“Did you know it would likely kill her? Did you ask? Did you read the medical reports? Did you consider for even one second that maybe, just maybe, your wife knew what she was talking about when she begged you not to force her into it?”

The accusation in his voice made me flinch. “I thought she was being dramatic. Jealous. I thought….”

“You thought what you wanted to think,” Marcus interrupted, and there was anger there now, like he was grieving her as well. “You convinced yourself Mia was dying despite evidence thar suggested otherwise. You convinced yourself Bianca was manipulative and heartless. You convinced yourself you were doing the right thing when really, you were just choosing the woman you actually wanted over the one you were bound to.”

“That’s not-”

“Isn’t it? Be honest with yourself if you can’t be honest with anyone else. Did you love Bianca? Did you ever love her? Or was she always just the obligation you resented, the mistake you wished you could undo?”

I opened my mouth to protest, to defend myself, but no words came.

Because he was right.

I’d never loved Bianca. Had tried, maybe, in the beginning. Had appreciated her competence, her dedication, her quiet strength. But love? Real, deep, consuming love?

That had always belonged to Mia. Until now, until she was gone and I realized that I had fallen for her, all along but I was too focused on saving Mia that I hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want her to die,” I finally said. “I never wanted that.”

“But you also didn’t want her to live. Not really. Not the way she deserved.” Marcus straightened, gathering the signed documents. “And now she’s gone, and you have to live with that choice for the rest of your life.”

He moved toward the door, then paused.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though. One thing that doesn’t quite add up.”

“What?”

“The mate bond. When she died–did you feel it break? Did you experience the magical backlash that comes with a mate’s death?”

I froze, the question cutting through my guilt.

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“What do you mean?” I said slowly, “I don’t care about it. My Bianca died. Our both is also broke.”

Marcus’s expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite read. “Right. The dissolution. Of course.”

He left before I could ask what he meant by that tone.

I sat alone in my office, staring at the empty desk where the paperwork had been, and replayed the conversation.

The mate bond. I hadn’t felt anything when Bianca died. No pain, no breaking,. Just… nothing.

Dr. Hartwick’s explanation had made sense at the time. But now, with Marcus’s question hanging in the air, doubt crept in like poison through my veins.

What if there was another reason I hadn’t felt the bond break?

What if-

No. That was impossible. I’d seen the death certificate. Dr. Hartwick had confirmed it. The hospital had processed the paperwork.

Bianca was dead.

Wasn’t she?

I pulled out my laptop and searched for information on mate bond dissolution. The articles all said the same thing: once dissolution was initiated, it took thirty days for the bond to fully sever. During that time, both parties experienced increasing pain as the magical connection tore apart.

But after death? The articles were less clear. Some said death would accelerate the process, causing immediate and catastrophic magical feedback. Others suggested that if dissolution was already in progress, death might not trigger the usual response.

It was contradictory.

I needed answers. Real ones, not the vague reassurances Dr. Hartwick had offered.

I was reaching for my phone to call him when I remembered I’d thrown it against the wall. Cursed, I went to retrieve it, finding the screen shattered but still functional.

I dialed Dr. Hartwick’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Tried again. Same result.

Growing agitated, I called the hospital instead.

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