Nanny and the Alpha Daddy

#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.

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

I felt my eyes widen as Edrick spoke. “Edrick, I have to tell you something—”

him about 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

original room where Edrick was waiting nervously with dark circles under

thank your wolf for putting you

he was holding my hand tightly, but I

to send in a prescription for you for some special vitamins and some medicine to help you sleep if you need it, and I’d like you to come back when the week is

bed for a week! I had a job to do, and

Edrick said gently, rubbing my shoulder with a worried yet relieved look in his gray eyes.

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 chew, you’ll

harm’s way. I would just need to get through the next week and hope that

out a sigh. “Now, this next part isn’t so much an order as it is a strong recommendation,” he said, leaning on the end of my bed with his hands as he looked at me over the rim of his glasses. “But I sincerely think that you should find a therapist. I don’t know exactly what happened a few weeks ago, although I’ve heard bits and pieces. And I don’t know if that’s the only

and those stories were bad enough. Postpartum psychosis, on the other hand, turned out to be fatal more

He looked at me for a moment with pain in his eyes, but 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 went through in the warehouse, or was I just

nodded and shot me a smile. “I’m going to have you stay the rest of the night to keep an eye on your vitals, but you can leave after that,” he said, patting my ankle.

and ran a hand through his