Dungeon Nursery Novels & Stories

Make him know what it feels like to be bitter, and when she's done, he's going to wish he was never born. His name is Rory John Gate and she's going to be his nightmare." She finishes speaking and finally looks over at the little girl and she is already asleep and she gets up and lays a soft kiss on her head and cover her up with the bedsheets, before walking out of the room. Authors message: Hello and welcome to the sequel of Little Nerdy Nightmare I hope you really like the beginning, if you did, leave a review. Love you guys

They mean a lot to the society and are protected at all costs. A dungeon isn’t a place for a pregnant woman. Even if the particular woman we are talking about is a cold hearted serpent. The child in her womb is innocent. He or she didn’t choose to have a despicable mother like Miranda.

Romeo, ever the planner, had mapped out the fastest routes to the hospital, accounting for traffic patterns and any potential delays. The nursery was a serene haven, painted in soothing colors with delicate mobiles hanging above the cribs. Soft toys and plush animals were arranged neatly on the shelves, and the room was filled with the gentle scent of lavender from the diffuser Romeo had set up. It was a peaceful, welcoming space, ready to embrace their newborns.

Five Years Later AURORA Laughter echoed through the packhouse before I even reached the doorway. I paused outside the nursery and smiled to myself because I already knew exactly what I was about to find. “Darius!” “I didn’t do anything!” “That’s a lie and you know it!” Another burst of childish giggling followed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of tiny feet racing across the wooden floor. I pushed the door open. The room looked like a battlefield. Wooden swords lay scattered across the floor, blankets had somehow become makeshift forts, and cushions were piled into what appeared to be an ambitious attempt at building a castle.

I felt like I was where I was finally meant to be. The room we were using as the nursery had only one access point. The door to access the nursery was hidden inside Doyle’s walk-in closet. He said it was for safety. No one could just access the nursery without us knowing about it. I liked this idea. It gave me peace of mind that our baby would be protected. I had to admit that I had been stunned when Doyle had shown me the room. In the time I had been here I had never known there was a door leading into another room inside of his closet.

"Right. That makes sense. Well, I took Edward to his nursery. Come, I’ll show you.” He led me down the hall, and my heart pounded with anticipation. When we reached a door made of heavy oak, Denderick pushed it open, revealing a nursery that was nothing like the ones I’d seen in Alpha Logan’s pack. The room was warm and rustic, the walls lined with dark wood panels that gleamed in the soft light filtering through small, thick glass windows. A sturdy wooden cot stood in the center with high sides meant to protect my son. Around the room, shelves held wooden toys and simple trinkets, and thick animal pelts lay across the stone floor.

"A dream that we are going to live. Together." We walked inside, and I explored every room. The kitchen was small but cozy, with a wood-burning stove and a table by the window. The living room was filled with books and paintings, a fireplace crackling in the corner. The bedroom was simple and elegant, with a large bed and windows that overlooked the mountains. And then I saw the nursery. It was perfect. The walls were painted a soft blue, with clouds and stars painted on the ceiling. A crib stood in the corner, filled with soft blankets and stuffed animals. Books lined the shelves, their colorful covers bright and cheerful.

“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.

“Johnny, show Anita the room.” Johnny frowned slightly. “What room?” Grace smiled. “The baby room.” Anita’s eyes widened slightly. “You made a nursery?” Johnny scratched his head. “Something like that.” Grace led Anita upstairs. Joan and Johnny followed. When Anita stepped inside the nursery she stopped. The room looked warm and welcoming. Soft colors. A crib. Toys. Blankets. Everything carefully arranged. Anita felt something twist painfully inside her chest. “You did all this?” she asked quietly. Johnny shrugged.

A miniature castle, replete with turrets, dry moat, and drawbridge was filled with tiny carved people; an honest-to-goodness me-dieval dollhouse! Fluffy blankets dotted the cradles and beds. It was a huge room, this nursery. A room in which a child (or a dozen) could grow from baby to young teen before seeking a more adult room elsewhere. It was a room that would fill a child's world with love and security and pleasure for hours on end. As if someone had created this room thinking like the child he or she used to be, and designed it with all the trea-sures that had given him or her such pleasure as a wee lad or lass.