Page 27 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Colin

“I’ll never be the monster they’ve molded me to be.”

Three years ago

I’m sixteen today. Ambrose claimed me as his son, but I know I’m not. I smell nothing like him. My biological father is not in the herd.

When I turned thirteen, he took me with him when they sold my mother to human men. He made me hide in the closets and watch. To learn—he claimed. I believe it had more to do with the power he held over us than a teaching lesson.

I’ve watched my mother shed more than a bucket’s worth of tears over the last three years. I’m convinced one of the men who used her over the years is my father. It matters not to me. These men are as despicable as the man who claimed me.

“Today you become a man.” Ambrose’s words.

I’ve thrown up twice since Ambrose announced this morning who would take my virginity.

My mother’s sister, Niki, is brought to me after the sun set. He acts as if he’s giving me a gift. Only I know better than to contradict him. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been tied to the whipping pole for disrespecting Ambrose.

Niki and I have no choice but to comply. He’s assured me that she will suffer as well if I fail to “become a man.”

I’m not Niki’s first. After her first time, something inside of her snapped. More like stuck. She hasn’t matured past sixteen years old.

I’ll do his bidding to spare Niki a beating. I care not about myself. The scars on my back have grown numb. I swear, no matter what he makes me do, I’ll never be like him.

A few weeks ago

“I bet they believe we won’t show up or that Helios will.” Ioannis’ voice cut through the stillness, commanding attention from the men gathered around him.

“Helios be damned. I want my daughters back.” Spittle flew from Basil’s mouth. His face twisted in a rage that burned brighter with each word.

I kept my mouth shut. I had nothing to say because, deep down, I didn’t want to be here at all. I didn’t want to crash this mating ceremony that the herd protecting Basil’s daughters had invited us to. They didn’t invite us out of kindness. It was a clear message: they were daring us to show up, testing our resolve. And maybe they were right, too. My inner hope had told me things. About how the daughters were safer where they were now, far away from Basil’s iron grip. I couldn’t blame them for not wanting to return.

I wanted to believe they were better off where they’d found protection, maybe even freedom. Not all Minotaurs are monsters, after all. Some of us... I had to believe some of us were different. I couldn’t be the only one who didn’t want to live like this, with anger and fear as our only fuel.

Ioannis had rented a large van to take us from the mountains down to New Orleans. We packed inside, shoulder to shoulder. The air stunk with the stench of sweat and tension. The others were restless, rippling with a raw impatience. Every so often, one of them would mutter about “teaching the enemy herd a lesson” with fists clenched and set jaws. My chest tightened. I sensed that I was trapped, not just in this van but in something larger, something I didn’t know how to escape.

We finally arrived at the edge of a marsh—the sky dark and swollen with clouds. Ioannis parked the van, and we piled out, stretching stiff muscles and breathing in the damp air.

A vast and quiet swamp, thick with mud and tangled roots, lay ahead. Spanish moss dripped from branches like ancient, ghostly curtains. The humidity pressed down on us, and the air hummed with unseen insects.

“We’re going through the swamp in our true form,” Ioannis ordered. His low and hard voice left no room for argument.

I glanced around. The anticipation was palpable as each of us prepared to shift. I braced myself for the familiar, painful pull of transformation. My body changed—bones stretching and muscles thickening until I stood taller, bulkier, with the power of the Minotaur form coursing through me. The world sharpened around me. I smelled the decay of leaves, the tang of mud, the faint scent of something alive slithering just beneath the water’s surface.

But even in this powerful form, my heart wasn’t in it. The others were focused. Their thoughts bent on intimidation, reclaiming control, maybe even violence.

I felt a hollow ache. A question gnawing at me: If not for this life, then what? But I buried it, swallowing down any hesitation. Here, any sign of weakness could be fatal.

Ioannis led the way. His massive form cut through the swamp, setting a path that the rest of us followed. We moved deeper into the marsh, and my pulse quickened. The quiet was punctuated only by the squelch of mud beneath our hooves and the occasional snap of a branch. I was more aware than ever of how easy it would be for any of us to vanish into these murky waters, never to be found again.

And maybe a part of me thought that wouldn’t be so bad.

Scattered bottles rattled as we moved closer through the trees. Birds, startled from their roosts, burst into the air in a rush of wings and panicked cries.

The swamp around us had become a living, breathing cocoon, shrouding our entrance as we emerged from the marshes. I saw the others—the demigods in human form waiting for us—gathered on the far side of the clearing, their faces painted with apprehension under the faint light of the stars.

We must have looked threatening to them as we came into view: an army of twelve Minotaurs distorted by the moonlight filtering through the branches. Towering above even the tallest among them, we stepped from the waters. Our hoofed feet thudded against the concrete and mud. Each impact echoing with an ominous rhythm.

The closer we got, the louder the sound grew. For a second, I glanced at my own hooves, leaving imprints on the muddy edges of the concrete path.

The men opposite us braced themselves. They stood with their powerful bodies poised to shift if we had come to battle instead of honoring the mating ceremony. For me, our purpose wasn’t to prove power or reclaim dominance. My presence felt like a betrayal to the daughters whom I believed would be better off away from Basil’s harsh rule. Still, I kept my expression impassive, and my gaze ahead, masking the contradiction inside me.

When I shifted my focus, a sharp, vice-like clamp latched onto my forearm. The world seemed to slow for a split second. An alligator had sunk its teeth into my arm. Its beady eyes gleamed. The beast twisted ferociously, attempting to drag me back into the swamp. With a forceful shake, I flung the creature back into the marsh as if it were only a gnat.

We continued our approach, closing the distance between the men and the heifers they stood in front of protectively. Each of us gradually stepped into the clearing and fully under the moonlight.

I came to a halt beside Ioannis. I let my eyes drift over their group, catching sight of a woman near the front. She stood rigid. Her face held a mixture of fear and defiance. It struck me that in another world—another life—I might have been the one protecting rather than intimidating her. The thought settled deep in my chest, but I pushed it away, burying it under layers of stone-cold obedience.

Ioannis slowly exhaled next to me, signaling us to shift. Our bodies pulled and painfully contorted. Bones rearranged. And fur retreated until we stood as men, not towering beasts. Naked, exposed, and stripped of the power our Minotaur forms commanded. We faced the crowd in our most vulnerable state. Their expressions barely changed, but there was disgust, fear, and perhaps pity in their eyes, all directed at us—the broken remnants of our herd. A tense silence filled Jazzland, broken only by the occasional bellow of the alligator I’d tossed aside, lurking somewhere in the distance.

Ioannis stepped forward. An energy of anger and resentment clung to the others, mingling with the swamp’s oppressive heat. My need to assert my dominance, to lash out, simmered below the surface. Yet, I stood there, letting my gaze drift once more to the woman near the front.

For her sake and for both daughters’ sake, I hoped this meeting wouldn’t turn to violence.