Page 35 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Lena

“With every touch, I will rewrite the story they tried to write on your skin.” ~ Isaak

Our first family dinner is filled with warmth, laughter, and the comforting clatter of plates around the kitchen table. Isaak’s mitéra has outdone herself, bringing a meal so rich and flavorful. My mouth waters before I even sit down. Colin can’t stop complimenting her cooking, and Serafim giggles with delight every time she heaps another spoonful onto his plate.

I didn’t cook tonight, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel guilty about it. Isaak’s mitéra insisted that I needed rest.

When the meal ends, Circe helps me clear the table. Her quiet presence comforts me while the men wander into the backyard to discuss…whatever men discuss. Isaak’s parents had left.

Serafim darts off to his room, clutching the wooden toys Isaak’s parents had gifted him with after dinner. His laughter echoes faintly down the hallway. His joy is a sound that I’m not used to hearing but cherish.

Circe and I work in silence. I can feel her eyes on me as we rinse the dishes, though. Her soft hum of approval when I manage to get a stubborn plate clean makes me smile. We’ve only met today, but she already has a way of comforting me, reminding me that even in this unfamiliar life, I’m not alone.

But as the house quiets and the day winds down, my stomach churns. The conversation Isaak had promised—and Helios had suggested—looms in my mind like a storm cloud. My nerves fray with every passing moment, and I know I won’t make it through the evening without some sort of reprieve.

I excuse myself, slipping away to the enormous bathroom. It is still a marvel to me, with its gleaming fixtures and spacious tub.

Whenever I’d been forced to service human men, I’d always taken advantage of the shabby motel bathtubs, soaking away the grime of the day. But this tub wasn’t a reluctant escape—it was an invitation.

I fill it with hot water. Steam curls upward as I sink into the warmth. The water soothes my muscles, which I hadn’t realized were so tense. For a while, I simply float, letting the world outside fade. Time slips by unnoticed until the water turns cold, jolting me back to reality .

Isaak’s mitéra had been kind enough to bring clothes for Circe and me that were more practical than the threadbare garments we’d arrived in. I pulled on a pair of sleep pants covered in playful puppies and a matching shirt. The fabric feels gentle against my skin, and I marvel at the idea of having clothes specifically for sleeping. Who knew people divided their attire this way?

I emerge from the bathroom, and Isaak is waiting for me on the edge of the bed with his hands resting loosely on his knees. His brown eyes meet mine.

My heart skips. I swallow hard. He is handsome—beautiful even. The only males I’d ever found attractive before were my Colin and Serafim. All others with their cruel hands and eyes had been repulsive. But Isaak…he is different.

He extends his hand, and I hesitate before placing mine in his. His touch is warm and steadying.

“We can just go to sleep if you prefer,” he offers me a way out. The kindness in his tone almost undoes me. I could back away now, pushing this conversation to another day. But the anticipation is eating me alive, and I know waiting will only make it worse.

I take a deep breath. “I’ve been touched by men often. Every time, I had to swallow the vomit that threatened to come out of me.” My eyes drop to the floor. Shame colors my cheeks. “But with you…your touches do things to me that I don’t un derstand.”

Isaak stands and gently tilts my chin with his fingers until our eyes meet. His gaze is steady and full of something I can’t quite name—something safe.

“Those other men violated you.”—he swallows—“They stole from you. Took what they had no right to take. Men and women were created to enjoy each other’s touches. To share love with every stroke. Your instincts tell you that you can trust me. That you can enjoy my touches. They’re right.”

Tears well in my eyes, but I fight them back. “Will they make me forget the others? Can you give me new memories? New feelings?”

Isaak smiles. His thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “Whenever you’re ready, I will love you with my hands until I’m the only one you think of.”

His words wrap around my heart, slowing its frantic beat. “I’m ready now. I want to forget. I want you to erase the nightmares.”

Isaak leans down and brushes his lips against mine in the tenderest kiss. It was unlike anything I’d ever known—gentle, loving, devoid of greed or force. My body tingles with the newness of it, the rightness of it. His lips move slowly, leading me, and I follow without hesitation.

When his tongue coaxes against my lips, I open for him instinctively, as if this was what I’d always been meant to do.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me to the bed. For the first time, I don’t feel fear. I want this. I want to know what it is like to be loved, not used.