Chapter 123 Yes Alpha

Chapter 123 Yes Alpha
Vuk Kael Laskovic:

“Maureen!!! Maureen!!!”

My voice tore through the corridor as I rushed out of the bedroom, my feet hitting the stone floor hard enough to echo through the hallway. The cold air outside the room slapped against my skin, but I didn’t slow down. I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe properly. I just moved, heart pounding violently against my ribs as a sick, crawling feeling spread through my chest.

Guards immediately straightened at my shout, their heads snapping in my direction, confusion flashing across their faces as they realized something was wrong.

“Spread out!” I barked, my voice rough and sharp with rising panic. “Search every wing. East, North, South—now! Find the Luna!”

They didn’t hesitate. Boots thundered against stone as they broke into motion, scattering in different directions, calling her name as they ran. The maids began pouring out from nearby chambers, their faces pale and frightened, whispering among themselves as the tension spread like wildfire through the castle.

I didn’t stop moving. I checked the east wing first, throwing open doors without ceremony, scanning rooms with sharp, frantic eyes. Empty. Every single one empty. The silence pressed against my ears in the worst possible way. I moved faster, heading toward the northern wing next, ignoring the sting in my lungs as I forced my body forward.

“Maureen!” I shouted again, louder this time, voice cracking slightly despite myself.

Nothing.

No answer.

Not even a sound.

By the time I reached the south wing, dread had already settled deep inside my gut, heavy and suffocating. I threw open the final set of doors and stepped inside, scanning every corner, every shadow, every dark space that might hide movement.

Still nothing.

That was when I knew.

Something was wrong.

Not misplaced.

Not delayed.

Wrong.

Deeply wrong.

I had just turned back toward the main hall when hurried footsteps approached from the opposite side. A maid rushed toward me, her face drained of color, her hands shaking so badly she could barely keep them steady at her sides.

“My Alpha!” she cried breathlessly.

I turned sharply toward her, dread tightening its grip around my chest.

“What is it?” I demanded.

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“Lauren… Lauren is gone.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register.

Gone?

Gone how?

My gaze hardened instantly.

“Gone?” I repeated slowly, dangerously calm. “What do you mean gone?”

She flinched slightly under my tone.

“She… she’s not in the nursery anymore, my Alpha,” she stammered. “We checked her cradle—she’s not there.”

My stomach dropped violently.

Cold.

Heavy.

“Check the CCTV,” I ordered immediately, my voice turning deadly cold. “Now.”

Within minutes, I was standing inside the security room, staring hard at the large monitor mounted along the wall. Guards moved quickly around me, pulling up footage from different sections of the castle. The room filled with the low hum of machines and the sound of rapid breathing as everyone braced themselves for what we might see.

“Pull the nursery footage,” I commanded.

The screen shifted.

Static flickered briefly before the image stabilized.

And then—

There she was.

Maureen.

Walking into the babies’ chamber.

My breath caught slightly as I leaned closer, my hands bracing against the edge of the console.

She looked calm.

Not frightened.

Not struggling.

Just walking.

Lauren lay inside the cradle, small movements visible even through the grainy screen. Then, as if on cue, the baby began crying. I watched as Maureen moved quickly toward her, lifting her gently into her arms.

The sight twisted something inside my chest.

She cradled Lauren carefully, rocking her slightly, trying to calm her the way she always did. Her lips moved, likely whispering soft words meant only for our daughter.

Normal.

Everything looked normal.

Too normal.

I frowned slightly as the footage continued to play.

“Fast forward,” I ordered.

The guard obeyed.

The next frame showed Maureen stepping out of the nursery, Lauren still held securely in her arms. She adjusted the blanket around her, her movements careful and practiced, exactly like any mother soothing a restless child in the middle of the night.

Nothing strange.

Nothing suspicious.

She stepped into the hallway.

Walked calmly.

No struggle.

No attacker.

No shadow.

No sign of anyone else.

The footage followed her down the corridor, her figure moving steadily through the dim light. She turned toward the longer hallway that led deeper into the inner corridors—the same direction she had told me she would walk earlier.

I leaned closer to the screen, my jaw tightening slowly.

“Keep playing,” I muttered.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed.

Maureen continued walking.

Lauren remained in her arms.

Still crying.

Still restless.

She moved past the inner corridor…

Then—

Nothing.

The footage flickered.

Once.

Twice.

And then—

She was gone.

Not walking out of frame.

Not turning a corner.

Gone.

Vanished.

My eyes narrowed sharply as the screen froze.

“What the hell was that?” I growled.

One of the guards leaned closer, his voice uncertain.

“My Alpha… there was no interruption in the recording system. No external breach. No tampering detected.”

That made my chest tighten painfully.

No breach.

No intruder.

No struggle.

And yet—

My mate and daughter had disappeared in the middle of a guarded castle.

I stared at the frozen image of the empty hallway, my pulse pounding violently in my ears. The space where she had stood seconds earlier now looked completely ordinary.

Too ordinary.

Like nothing had happened.

Like she had never been there at all.

“Replay it,” I ordered quietly.

They did.

Again.

Same result.

She walked.

She carried Lauren.

And then—

Nothing.

Gone.

My hands curled slowly into fists at my sides.

This wasn’t kidnapping.

Not in the normal sense.

No forced entry.

No physical struggle.

No trace.

Which meant only one thing.

Something unnatural had happened.

Something planned.

Something precise.

I turned slowly toward the guards, my voice dropping into a tone so cold it barely sounded human anymore.

“Lock down the entire castle,” I ordered.

Every word came out sharp.

Controlled.

Deadly.

“No one enters. No one leaves. I want every guard stationed at every exit. Search every room, every hallway, every hidden passage. Tear this place apart if you have to.”

The guards straightened instantly.

“Yes, Alpha!”