Dungeon Nursery Novels & Stories

But for now, my sister isn’t pregnant. I drag my eyes away from my mate to look at the plans Merethyl is showing me. Since the Academy is having a baby boom, everyone agreed that we needed a more formal nursery. Since our children are precious to all of us, it was easy to agree that the Nursery would go in front of The Big House, putting it nearly in the center of the Academy’s grounds and farthest away from the borders, making it the safest place on Academy grounds. No one anticipates another war, but it’s better to be safe.

“It weighs enough to not let you do it, Luna.” I snorted. She marched in, took the basket from my hands, and set it aside with dramatic offense. “You are carrying the future alpha,” she informed me. “Sit.” “I hate when people order me around in my own home.” “And yet you keep collecting dominant males and opinionated women around you.” Rude. And very accurate. I lowered myself into the cushioned chair beside the window. The nursery smelled of fresh pine and lavender. Sunlight spilled across polished floors. Tiny clothes hung folded in neat stacks. A carved cradle stood near the hearth, made by half the warriors after they nearly fought over who got to contribute.

"A scroll containing some writings in a really odd language, a ring, and a dagger. Oh and we also found his journal" "What was in it?" "We haven't read it all, but we decided to check from three months earlier and what we found wasn't nice." "What?" "Aiden is Josie's son" "What?, but if Aiden's her son, does that mean that Sophie is his wife?" "Yes. He talked about how he was feeling bad about leaving his pregnant wife and moving in with a bunch of strangers" "But if he's married, how did jenny meet him?" "That's the part I don't understand, he said his mother already ' took care of that ' that all he had to do was talk to her"

Rhea argued that the soap had not, in fact, leaped into her face unprovoked. Normal. Loud. Alive. Lyra stood in the quiet living room for a moment, letting her brain adjust. The space was exactly what she’d designed it to be. Minimalist. Neutral tones. No clutter. Sharp corners softened only in one part of the house. She walked there now. The nursery—if it could still be called that at almost three years in—occupied the back bedroom, the one with the smallest window but the most protection. Extra wards glowed faintly under the paint if she unfocused her eyes; the glass itself was reinforced against physical and magical impact.

Mary's was unlike anything they had found before. It wasn't an archive. It wasn't a boardroom. It was a nursery. Rows of tiny white metal cribs stretched across the concrete floor, perfectly aligned despite nearly three decades underground. Most were empty, their mattresses yellowed with age. But they hadn't been abandoned in haste. Every crib was made. Every blanket folded. Every mobile still hung from the ceiling. As if someone had expected babies to return. A chill settled over Dani. "It looks..." she whispered. "...prepared."

By the end of the week, the nursery was complete. Blush lavender walls, driftwood bookshelves in the form of clouds, a soft rug with stars scattered across it, and the sign "Raspberry" hanging in wood cursive above the crib. Vandaulf stood in the doorway, arms folded, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "We should get a crown for that crib." Lily, curled on the glider, rubbed her belly lightly. "Don't tempt Helena.

he asked, howling when his mate's ears perked up, her eyebrows waggling as a filthy look crossed her face. "No it isn't, you pervert," Sebestian said with a shake of his head. He opened the door and led them all through. "This is the nursery, so get your mind out of the gutter, David. And you!" he said to his bestfriend with a grin. He looked around the room, his eyes twinkling at the beautiful sleigh style walnut crib with gauzy gold drapes hanging over it, the window seat set into the bay window, the gorgeous matching walnut changing table and bookshelves and the thick cream carpet, it was perfect and the walnut and beige nursing chair with matching gliding footstool finished it off beauti

Every element inside the dungeon acted like a natural copy mechanism—taken one day; replaced the next. Would-be adventurers trembled at the thought of entering a dungeon. Here, at the core of JDA operations, they watched trained soldiers patrol in rotating squads, darting between cavern entrances to maintain monster populations in check. Combat squads remained on standby, ready to quell any emergent threat with precision strike weaponry or anti-monster drones.

The dungeon was built under the big house and had a special stair leading to it. The dungeon itself was a large space, dark and cold. It had tiny rooms for locking offenders in and these doors were made of metal, they had keys and only the gammas watching over the dungeon had the keys. When he arrived in the dungeon with gammas, he was shown to where Irene was kept and he walked to the room. The doors were barred and he could see the girl even while standing outside.

Majority of the campers are boys because game addiction is their thing – to be exact, Dungeon Raydens-addiction. Dungeon Raydens is a sandbox-style MMORPG that’s a one-stop-shop for a lot of things. Kate remembers that, when Ecto was still around (darn, it hurt to think that), they did almost everything there except PvP and the MOBA-esque Battle Royale end game, which Ecto abhorred for their violence.