Page 52 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

"Time for bed, little stars." I push back from the table, expecting their usual protests and negotiations for more stories.

Luna just slides off her chair and takes Nova's hand. "Kay."

My eyebrows shoot up. Since when do they not bargain for a game or a cookie? I follow after them and they climb into their bed without the usual jumping and giggling. The magical stars I crafted into their ceiling cast a soft purple glow across their copper curls.

"Which story tonight?" Mira settles into bed next to them, her dark hair falling forward as she reaches for their favorite book.

"The princess one." Nova's voice is barely a whisper.

"With the prince," Luna adds.

I lean against the doorframe, watching as the girls curl into Mira's sides. Their small fingers twist into her dress as she reads, clinging tighter with each page turn. Like they know something I don't, but no one will tell me what.

"And they all lived happily ever after." Mira closes the book. "Time for sleep now."

I'm stunned when the twins don't even protest. Instead, Luna wraps her arms around Mira's neck. "Love you, Mama."

"Love you too, precious." Mira's voice catches as she hugs them both. When she tries to stand, they hold on tighter.

"One more hug?" Nova's lower lip trembles.

Mira gathers them close again, pressing kisses to their foreheads. Her green eyes shine with unshed tears in the starlight.

Something's definitely wrong. These aren't my chaos-causing nieces who normally require three stories, two songs, and multiple bed checks before settling down. But before I can ask, they're tucked in and Mira's slipping past me into the hallway.

I follow Mira into the hallway, catching her arm and pulling her against my chest. She stiffens, keeping her face turned away, but doesn't pull back. Still, she doesn't sink into me, and I'm unnervingly nervous now. The scent of herbs from dinner clings to her hair, mixed with something salt-sweet that might be… tears.

"What's going on?" My voice comes out rougher than intended. "And don't tell me it's nothing."

She shakes her head, dark hair falling forward to hide her expression. "I need to shower."

"Mira." I cup her chin, trying to tilt her face up. She resists, hands pressed flat against my chest. I've never seen her like this, never seen her treat me like this.

I can feel it so acutely. Something is very, very wrong.

"Please." Her voice cracks. "I just... I need a minute."

My fingers itch to pull her closer, to demand answers, to fix whatever's causing this shadow over my family. But the tension in her shoulders warns me away. I don't want to force her. I want to be different than the demons that broke her.

"Fine." I drop my hands, stepping back. The loss of her warmth leaves an ache in my chest. "Let's talk about it after."

She nods once, wrapping her arms around herself as she disappears into the bathroom. The soft click of the lock echoes in the quiet hallway.

Damn it. I press my forehead against the wall, violet eyes closed. Metal I understand - heat it right, strike true, and it bends to your will. But this? These subtle currents of emotion running through my house? I'm lost in the dark without a torch.

I can't stand this waiting. My hands itch for work, for the simple honesty of metal and fire. The stairs creak under my weight as I head down to my workshop, the runes that illuminate the path flickering to life as I pass.

The bracelet and band I've been working on for Mira sits nearly-finished on my workbench, a delicate and intricate piece that just needs to be finished off, rounded, and polished. Beside it lies the mating band, metals braided together with threads of my own magic worked through each twist.

I settle onto my stool, picking up my tools with practiced ease. The metal warms under my fingers as I shape the protection bracelet's final curves, each movement precise despite my distraction. Purple sparks dance along the bracelet as I work, smoothing it out for the perfect finish.

But it's the mating band that draws my eye. Two metals, two lives, bound together like we have been. A copper color shimmers with the same warmth as my hair. The inlay gleams a bright green, like her eyes when she laughs at the twins' antics.

"Fuck." I set down my tools, running a hand over my face. The scars on my arms catch the lamplight, reminding me of every mistake, every misjudgment that left its mark.

What if I've read this wrong? The way she stiffened against me tonight, how she's suddenly being distant... Maybe I've taken this too far, too fast. She came here seeking safety for herself. Perhaps that's all she wants and we've all become too much for her.

I pick up the bracelet, testing its weight. The magic pulses against my palm, reaching for its intended bearer. The runes are meant to bond to her, to protect her. But if she's not ready, if she doesn't want this...

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