Zephyr POV
Three days after waking up, I began to feel like something was wrong. I couldn't explain it or put it into words but something about this baby felt wrong.
I would always sit in the chair by the window as I held him in my arms and watch him sleep. Don't get me wrong, but my baby was as beautiful as they come, the problem was that when I looked at him, I felt... nothing.
I couldn't feel that connection between me and my baby which was strange for a child I carried for nine good months.
Shouldn't I feel something now? Shouldn't there be recognition? Some instinct that said this is mine? Why couldn't I feel any of that?
The baby stirred, made a small sound so I adjusted and rocked him gently.
"Hey," Zane said from the doorway. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired."
"You should rest
