Page 53 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

The metal grows cold in my grip. I've spent my life learning to read the language of forge and flame, but people - especially Mira - remain harder to interpret than the most complex enchantment.

I set the bracelet down with more force than necessary, the metal clinking against my workbench. This isn't solving anything. I need to talk to her, need to understand what's changed.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I pause at the top landing. Her door is closed - a barrier we haven't had between us in months. Light seeps beneath the wooden frame, a thin golden line mocking my uncertainty.

My knuckles brush the door, but I can't bring myself to knock. What if she tells me to leave? What if she confirms every doubt clawing at my chest?

"Mira?" My voice comes out rough, barely above a whisper.

No answer. Just the soft rustle of movement inside.

I press my palm flat against the wood, feeling the grain beneath my callused skin. The urge to break down this barrier burns in my muscles, but I force myself still. She's not some piece of metal I can bend to my will. And after what she's been through, she deserves the choice to keep her distance.

"I'll be in my room if you..." The words stick in my throat. If you what? If you want me? If you change your mind? If you've finally realized you deserve better than a demon raising his dead brother's kids?

Fuck. I drag my fingers through my hair, yanking the tie free completely. The copper strands fall around my face, wild as the thoughts I can't seem to control.

My bedroom feels wrong without her. Cold. The bed that seemed perfectly fine before she came into my life now stretches empty and vast. I sit on the edge, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.

The violet of my eyes reflects in the window, a reminder of everything I am. Everything she isn't. Maybe that's what finally hit her - the reality of binding herself to a demon and his haunted family.

And she didn't want it like I hoped.

22

MIRA

The wooden floor creaks beneath my knees as I sink down, pressing my forehead against the rough grain of the door. Karn's footsteps fade down the hall, each one driving a spike deeper into my chest. My fingers curl against the floorboards, nails scraping against splinters as I struggle to breathe through the tears.

I can't stay. Not when they're hunting for me. Not when they could hurt him, hurt the twins. I'm sure that Karn can handle himself, but I don't want to put him in that position.

Even the thought of leaving makes my chest cave in, the alternative—seeing Karn ever in trouble because of me—that would destroy me completely. And I know I can't face him and say that. I could barely handle it when Nova noticed my mood earlier.

"Stupid." I press my palm against my mouth, trying to muffle the sob. "So stupid to fall for him."

But I have. Gods help me, I've fallen for his quiet strength, his gentle hands, the way he pretends not to smile at my jokes. How he makes the twins laugh and doesn't mind being silly. The protective fury in his eyes when he saw my brand that first day.

And our first date. Our nights together. They've only pulled me in deeper and deeper, and I know that I love him. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. But now I wonder…does he love me, too? Or will he even miss me when I'm gone?

I swallow back that question, not wanting to know that answer. I don't think either way it will make it easier. So I need to calm down and get out of here before Karn comes back.

A part of me is surprised he hasn't, that he's not forcing me to talk. But he never has - something I always appreciated. But if he did…I'm not strong enough to resist if he asks me to stay.

I have to be. Have to protect him, even if it means tearing myself apart.

My hand presses against my chest, trying to hold the pieces together. "Please," I whisper, though I don't know who I'm begging. "Please let him understand. Let him forgive me."

The tears won't stop. They drip onto the floor, onto my hands, onto the life I desperately want but can't keep. I don't have time to sit here and mourn the only life I've ever wanted, though.

I push myself up from the floor, legs shaky. The room spins for a moment before settling, and I force myself to take slow, steady breaths. Crying won't help. Action will.

My movements are precise, economical - habits burned into me from years of service. The small leather pack I'd hidden under my bed slides out easily. I've spent the day tucking things away that I'll need, at least for the next three days.

I run through my mental checklist. Clothes, basic supplies, the few coins I've saved. I look over pictures the twins have drawn me, and I almost leave them behind. But I can't. Folded, they join the rest.

My door thankfully stays silent as I slip out. Karn's door is closed, and even though my body is begging me to go to him, my instinct - the one that has kept me alive, that has told me to never rely on anyone else - has me moving toward the stairs.

The workshop downstairs is dark and quiet, moonlight streaming through the high windows. Metal gleams on every surface - Karn's creations catching the light like fallen stars. My heart clenches at the familiar smell of smoke and steel.

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