All Chapters of Sold To The Ruthless Alpha Prince: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Rafael's POV I had always believed there were some things in life that could never happen. I believed my father would never look at me with pride. I believed my mother would never know what it felt like to be truly loved.And after meeting Nora, I believed she would never be capable of hurting me.Standing outside the interrogation chamber with those letters still clutched tightly in my hand, I realized how dangerously wrong I had been.Every step toward the room felt heavier than the last, my boots echoing against the stone corridor while guards quietly stepped aside without meeting my eyes. None of them dared speak to me, and for once I appreciated the silence because I wasn't sure I trusted myself to hear another opinion.One side of me wanted to believe none of this was real. The other side had read the letters. My wolf hadn't stopped pacing since Karl handed them over.He wasn't angry, he was confused. The mate bond still existed. It hadn't weakened. It hadn't rejected her. If N

Rafael's POV  I stood in silence, my attention fixed entirely on the woman kneeling in chains several feet away from me. Nora never looked up.  Her wrists were bound with silver restraints, bruises circled her skin where the metal dug into her flesh, and the simple white dress they had forced her into hung loosely over her body after days inside the dungeon. She looked exhausted, pale, and heartbreakingly small beneath the weight of every pair of eyes judging her. My mate. The word echoed inside my head like a curse. I wanted to walk across the room, tear the chains from her wrists, and pull her against me just to reassure myself she was still breathing. Instead, I remained exactly where I was. Because one wrong move would kill her. "The investigation is complete." My father's voice carried effortlessly across the courtroom. "The prisoner has confes

Nora's POV Life as a servant was nothing like the life I had known these past few weeks, and somehow that hurt more than I thought it would.Not because I missed the silk dresses or the private chambers or the servants waiting to fulfill every request before I even voiced it, but because every corridor I walked through now reminded me of how quickly people could change. The same maids who had smiled politely and bowed whenever I passed now looked straight through me as if I had become something dirty. The nobles who once measured every word they spoke in my presence no longer bothered hiding their disgust. They stared openly, whispered loudly enough for me to hear, and laughed without lowering their voices.A traitor.A liar.The prince's greatest mistake.Those words followed me through every hallway until I almost stopped noticing them. "Don't leave those silver trays there." I looked up immediately.The senior housekeeper pointed toward another table without even bothering to mee

Nora's POV Working as a servant in the palace was pretty exhausting. The palace had become busier than ever, and with my new duties I barely had a month ment to sit down before someone handed me another tray, another stack of linens, or another room that needed cleaning. By the time night came, my legs ached so badly that climbing onto my narrow bed in the servants' quarters felt like the hardest task of the day.My body was beginning to get exhausted and I tried to blame it on the work I had been doing. When I felt so dizzy every time I stood too quickly, I blamed the lack of sleep. When I found myself leaning against walls just to catch my breath, I convinced myself my body simply hadn't adjusted to life as a servant again. I wanted to believe those excuses. The alternative frightened me. Several weeks passed, and instead of improving, everything became worse.That morning, I was helping another maid carry baskets of freshly washed blankets from the laundry wing to one of the guest

Nora's POV I hadn't realized grief could become something physical. I used to think grief was crying until there were no tears left, or lying awake at night staring at the ceiling while memories replayed over and over again, but I was beginning to understand that real grief settled somewhere much deeper than that. It clung to every breath I took, weighed down every step, and turned even the simplest tasks into battles my body no longer had the strength to fight.Three days had passed since I received my stepbrother's letter. Three days since I learned my mother was gone. I still couldn't bring myself to say the words aloud.Every time I tried, something closed around my throat until breathing itself became difficult.Mother is dead.The sentence refused to feel real. Instead, my mind kept drifting back to her smile whenever she brushed my hair before bed, the way she always insisted I deserved better than the life our pack had given us, and the countless nights she whispered that no