21. Karn

21

KARN

I climb the stairs from my workshop, my muscles aching from a long day of metalwork. The scent of roasted meat and herbs fills the air, but something feels off. Usually by now the twins would be racing down to tackle me, their squeals echoing through the house.

The kitchen is unnaturally quiet. Mira stands at the stove, stirring a pot with mechanical movements. Her green eyes are distant, fixed on some point beyond the wall.

"Smells good." I run a hand through my hair, loosening it from its leather tie. "Everything alright?"

She startles, the wooden spoon clattering against the pot. "Oh! I didn't hear you come up." A forced smile crosses her face. "Just lost in thought."

I nod, not feeling convinced. But if Mira doesn't want to talk to me then I won't force her. Maybe it needs to wait until the girls are in bed. Instead, I turn my attention to the twins.

Nova and Luna sit at the table, pushing bread around their plates instead of creating their usual chaos. No sparkles dance in the air, no transformed objects trying to escape. Even their copper curls seem subdued.

"What's wrong with my little troublemakers?" I crouch between their chairs, touching each of their heads. "No magic tricks today?"

Luna just shrugs, while Nova leans into my touch without speaking. It makes my chest pinch with worry.

"I think everyone is tired." Mira's voice wavers slightly as she sets a plate in front of me. Her fingers brush my shoulder, but she pulls back quickly.

I catch her wrist before she can retreat, careful to avoid the brand I know marks her skin. "You too?" Her pulse races under my thumb.

"Yeah." She tugs free, busying herself with wiping down already clean counters. "Just one of those days, I suppose."

The twins exchange a look I can't decipher. There's clearly something going on, but trying to get a straight answer out of any of them right now feels like trying to forge cold metal.

Dinner is completely silent. The twins pick at their food, taking tiny bites only when Mira gently reminds them. No floating spoons or magically color-changing vegetables tonight - just the soft clink of silverware against plates.

And I hate it.

"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...

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.