All Chapters of Alpha Daddy, Mommy Doesn't Want You Anymore : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Alaric’s POVThe silence inside the elevator feels too absolute.The metal doors slide shut slowly, reflecting my own image—an expressionless face, eyes showing nothing but calculation. The indicator lights tick downward one by one. I’m not thinking about Lyra. Nor Vania. There’s only one thing on my mind: the information has leaked.“Report,” I say the moment the doors open.Russel walks beside me, his stride matching mine. “Cyan was eavesdropping outside the ward. The keywords he clearly caught were: Iris, coming, hospital.”“Who did he send the message to?”“Vania,” Russel answers without hesitation.I stop briefly at the end of the corridor. The distant footsteps of nurses and the rhythmic beeping of monitors drift faintly through the air. “Cut off all of Cyan’s access. There’s no reason for him to be on this floor.”“Understood.”“And one more thing,” I add. “Restrict all

Cass’s POVIris looks so happy.She paces back and forth in the sitting room, her smile never fading since the call ended. Her fingers keep busy straightening the small ribbon in her hair, then she tugs lightly at the sleeve of my dress, as if making sure I’m still right here.“Dad said I’ll be able to meet Mommy Lyra later,” she says again—for the third time.I nod slowly. “Yes. But later, okay? When you’re truly fit again. And when Lyra’s condition has improved too.”“I know,” she answers quickly. “I’ll take my medicine on time. And I won’t skip meals.” Her eyes sparkle. “So I can recover faster.”I smile—a smile I force myself to hold.In my chest, something sinks quietly. The way Iris says Lyra’s name so lightly. So full of longing. As if that woman is the center of warmth she wants to return to,

They laugh—but it isn’t mocking.“I hope Miss Cassandra becomes our Luna. You hope so too, don’t you?”I hear a long exhale. “That’s why we’re happy Miss Cassandra is here.”“And Iris,” the voice adds. “That child… reminds the Alpha of something he once had. Without him even realizing it.”“That’s why don’t ruin this,” the first whispers. “Don’t let the past crash into him again.”Their footsteps fade. The voices disappear—but the words remain, heavy, suspended, suffocating.I stand frozen for several seconds.Losing his wife and child.Right… Ben had mentioned it once, in passing. A tragic story never explained in detail. Now, the fragments feel more real. More painful.No wonder Orion is the way he is. No wonder he keeps his distance. No wonder he chooses to be present without clinging.And no wonder… everyone in this mansion looks at Iris and me as if we’re a small light they’re afraid to see go out.

Alaric’s POVI listen carefully to everything they say. How could I have missed something this crucial—something I should have suspected from the beginning? The potion is exactly as Raymond described it. Dangerous. With severe side effects.And maybe… this is what they used to ensnare me.Damn it.“So the conclusion about the potion is—”Silence settles between us before I continue.“The potion isn’t just medicine,” I finally say, breaking the heavy quiet that’s lingered since Vania’s name was spoken. “It’s been used in SilverFang since before Lyra became Luna. In small doses—it calms. With regular use—it binds.”Orion leans back, his gaze sharp but controlled. “Binds how?”“Decisions,” I answer flatly. “Emotional responses. Instincts. An Alpha exposed to it feels stable—even cert

Lyra’s POVNothing is going according to my plan.That’s the first thing I realize every time I open my eyes.The hospital ceiling feels too close, too white, as if it’s pressing down on me. The sharp scent of antiseptic burns my nose, stirring my stomach into another wave of nausea. I close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will fade—but instead, my chest tightens as the sickness surges back.“Lyra, breathe,” I whisper to myself.I clutch the bedsheet. My hands are cold. My body feels heavy—like it’s being held down by something unseen. Every breath is too shallow, as if my lungs have forgotten how to work properly.“He hasn’t come yet?” I ask, my voice hoarse.The two nurses beside my bed exchange a look.Not an ordinary one—but a brief, cautious glance loaded with restraint. One swallows hard, fingers tightening around her clipboard. The oth