His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 214: The Omen

Moana

When I woke up, I found myself in a dimly lit hospital room with Edrick sleeping on my lap. I was no longer floating in a void, nor was Michael above me with a knife. Instead, I was safe and sound with my mate by my side.

But nothing felt right. That dream was too vivid to just be a machination of my own anxiety… It felt like an omen. Was Michael coming for me with that knife, or was it really all just a dream made up in my own mind?

Suddenly, Edrick must have sensed that I was awake because he jerked his head up and opened his eyes wide.

“Moana,” he whispered. He lurched forward suddenly, looking relieved, and kissed me deeply. I was comforted, but also taken aback at the same time, and when we pulled apart I gave him a puzzled look.

“What happened?” I asked quietly. My throat felt dry and cracked.

head. “You’ve been asleep for three days,” he responded, his own voice shaking. “But you’re okay. You’re

as Edrick spoke.

my prophetic dream, the room suddenly became rushed with nurses and doctors who began taking my vitals, checking on me, and asking me questions. The room filled with a flurry of activity, and by

was returned to my original room where Edrick was waiting nervously with dark circles under his eyes, the doctor came in to give

smile. “You can thank your wolf for putting you in a dormant state… And you’re lucky

that he was holding my hand tightly,

prescription for you for some special vitamins and some medicine to

bed for a week! I had a job to do, and I had already taken enough time

a worried yet relieved

stern look as he ripped the page off of his clipboard and handed it to Edrick. “You’ve been through a lot of stress for someone who is still relatively early on in her pregnancy. At this point, if you don’t dial things back and stop biting off more than you can

didn’t want to put my baby in harm’s way. I would just need to get through the next week and hope that the headmistress wouldn’t fire me for

“But I sincerely think that you should find a therapist. I don’t know

were bad enough. Postpartum psychosis, on the other hand, turned out to be fatal more often than not without proper treatment. The things I had heard

there was something else there, too. Fear. Was he afraid that I would kill our baby? Did he view me as a dangerous person because of what I

smile. “I’m going to have you stay the rest of the night to keep an eye on your vitals,

sighed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair