Page 5 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

I carefully close the book, years of practice helping me shift both girls without waking them. "Here, let me-"

"I've got them." He crosses the room in two silent strides, gathering them up with a gentleness that belies his size. The twins instinctively curl into his chest, Nova's hand clutching his shirt.

I follow him to their bed, pulling back the quilted covers while he lays them down. Luna immediately rolls toward her sister, their hands finding each other even in sleep.

"Sweet dreams, little stars," he murmurs, brushing a kiss across each forehead.

We creep backward, avoiding the squeaky floorboard I'd discovered earlier. I hold my breath until we're safely in the hallway, pulling their door mostly closed.

"You're good with them," he says quietly.

"I helped raise the younger girls in my last..." I stop, unable to say the word. "Before."

His jaw tightens but he doesn't press. Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, loosening more strands from the tie. "Thank you. For today. For staying."

"Thank you for letting me." He only nods, and at that, we've run out of things to say.

A low rumble breaks the silence. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I'm fine." I wrap my arms around my middle, willing my stomach to stay quiet. The hunger pangs have become familiar friends. A few days are nothing compared to what I've endured before.

"That's not what I asked." His violet eyes catch mine, holding them with quiet intensity. "Kitchen. Now."

I follow him down the hall, my feet silent on the wooden floors - a habit burned into muscle memory. He fills the narrow space, his broad shoulders nearly brushing both walls. The forge work has built him like the steel he shapes, all hard angles and strength, yet he moves with surprising grace for his size.

The kitchen holds more evidence of his struggles with domestic life. Pots are stacked haphazardly, their handles pointing in different directions. A basket of vegetables sits half-sorted on the counter, as if he'd started organizing and gotten pulled away.

"Sit." He pulls out a chair at the heavy wooden table.

"Really, I don't want to be any trouble-"

"Not trouble." He starts pulling items from cupboards, his movements precise despite his size. "Can't have you passing out while watching the girls."

My protests die as he sets bread and cheese before me, followed by dried meat and fruit. Simple fare, but my mouth waters at the sight.

"Eat." He cuts thick slices of bread, his scarred hands gentle with the knife. "Got enough to feed an army. Twins never finish their plates anyway."

I take a small bite of bread, then another. He watches until I've eaten several proper mouthfuls before turning to pour us both cups of water.

"Thank you," I whisper, the words feeling inadequate.

He grunts in response, settling into the chair across from me. Despite his intimidating size, he's careful to leave plenty of space between us, angling his body so I don't feel trapped. It's a small gesture, but one that speaks volumes.

"Got to feed you up," he says gruffly, pushing the cheese closer. "You're too thin."

I take another bite, watching as he absently rubs at a burn scar on his forearm. For a demon known for working with fire and metal, his touch holds nothing but gentleness.

"Be right back." And then he turns and leaves.

The simple meal settles warm in my stomach as Karn disappears upstairs. His heavy footsteps return moments later, a bundle of fabric in his arms.

"Best I can do for now." He sets the clothes on the table, keeping his distance. "They'll be big, but they're clean."

I touch the soft material - a long-sleeved tunic and loose pants, both well-worn. They smell of forge smoke and… like him. Masculine in a way that should frighten me but doesn't.

"The washroom's through there." He points down the hall. "Just touch the runes by the door to heat the water."

I gather the clothes, holding them close. "Thank you."

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