Page 18 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Vasia

“I don’t recognize this world. Nor do I understand where home is, but as a family, I’m eager for a new beginning.”

“I didn’t want her,” I confess, searching Charis’ eyes for any sign of disgust. I release the breath I held when I don’t see any.

“And now?” he asks.

I look back at my child. “I never want to let her go.”

She’s still covered in afterbirth, wrapped in one of Charis’ shirts. He wiped what he could off, but with limited supplies, he couldn’t get all of it.

“I’d planned to suffocate her after her birth. I didn’t want her to experience the same hell I lived in.” Tears stream down my cheeks.

Charis brushes his lips against my tears, and the gentle warmth of his touch sinks into me, grounding me. “What are we going to call her?” he asks. His voice steadies my nerves.

“Do you know of a good name? One that means new beginnings?” I ask, hoping he’ll understand what I need for the both of us.

“Nyssa,” he says.

The name settles in my heart like it was meant to be. “That is a beautiful name.”

Charis kisses Nyssa’s tiny fingers with reverence. “Nyssa, I am your patér. ”

I scrunch my face. “What is a patér? ”

Lightly brushing his fingers over Nyssa’s cheek, he looks at me with a sorrow that I don’t quite understand. “You have much to learn, my dear mate. I wish I could kill the ones who stole your innocence and your history from you.”

Nyssa lets out a soft cry, breaking the moment, and I pull my shirt down to feed her. Charis’ mouth drops open, and his eyes lock onto my exposed breast. His face flushes. He gulps, then mumbles, “Father. Patér is father in our ancestral tongue.”

Nyssa drinks hungrily with her small hands resting against me, and I feel an unexpected wave of protectiveness.

“Let us give thanks that a term I’ve come to despise won’t be what Nyssa calls you.”

Charis smiles.

“Where are we going? Where is home?”

Charis’ eyes glisten. His pride in his home radiates through his smile as he holds my gaze.

“The Northwest Angle.” His voice is warm and steady. “It’s this hidden stretch of land at the top of Minnesota where the forest meets Lake of the Woods. Most people drive there by passing through Canada, but we aren’t traveling that way. I’ve got a boat waiting for us. We’ll cross the lake, straight through the islands, the way I love it best.

“Out on the water, you’ll see the islands dotting the lake, each one lush and green with trees so tall they feel like they’re reaching for the sky. In the summer, wildflowers bloom along the shores, and at night, the loons call out across the water.”

I struggle to picture it clearly through his eyes. Most of the words he used I’ve never heard. I smile. His eagerness is contagious.

“The sunsets are like nothing you’ve ever seen, turning the whole lake gold before fading into the deepest blue. And at night, the stars come out so bright, it feels like you could reach out and catch one in your hand.”

His eyes sparkle with warmth, then he squeezes my hand and lowers his voice. “That’s where we’re going. That’s home.”