Page 29 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Colin

“Momma’s love and guidance is the reason evil never took root in my heart.”

Each step in the Yonah Mountains reminds me of every memory I want to bury. I rest my arm protectively around Circe’s waist. Her body tenses beneath my hand with the worries she carries.

Ioannis and Ambrose trail behind us, too wrapped up in their defeat to punish me for insisting we keep Circe. But that didn’t ease the yoke pressing down on me.

Circe keeps glancing at me, and though her face appears calm, I know she hides her fears behind a mask. Fear of them. Of what they might do if they discover the life she is carrying. The thought of Ioannis or Ambrose finding out about our baby sends a chill through me.

She left her people to be with me, and I’ll be damned if my people ever come near her or our child .

I tighten my hold on her, reassuring her as we walk deeper into the woods—wandering in circles. It matters not to the two men keeping us in the forest that Helios took away our ability to find home.

I pulled out Circe’s phone and hover my thumb over the call button. I needed Georgia to understand that Circe and I weren’t looking to disrupt her peace. Georgia was the honorary matriarch of the herd. No one knows why our master’s cruelty never touched her like it touched the other females. But it wasn’t just Georgia’s acceptance I sought—I wanted a way to reach Momma.

I take a deep breath and dial the number Circe told me dial, bracing myself for whatever response I’d receive. Jayce picks up. His voice is cautious.

Circe hasn’t hidden her past misdeeds. I know what she did to him and his mate.

“Jayce,” I say, keeping my tone steady, “My name is Colin. I’m with Circe. I need to talk to Georgia.” I only know he’s in my old labyrinth because Circe has been in contact with her parents, who told her.

A long silence stretches between us. Finally, he grunts an acknowledgment. “Hold on.”

While I wait, memories of Georgia flood my mind—the kindness in her eyes, the way she’d always made me feel like I was worth something. When she finally answers, I’m almost too choked up to speak.

“Georgia,” I manage, forcing strength into my voice. “Are you okay?”

Her voice holds steady, but I sense sadness woven into her words. “I’m fine, Colin. Your mother—she’s… not well. She’s in a coma from an infection, but she’s fighting. The doctor says she has a good chance.”

I struggle to catch my breath. “She doesn’t know I’m alive?”

“No,” Georgia replies sympathetically, “she doesn’t.”

Hearing that nearly undoes me, but I can’t let it show right now. “I can’t go back to the labyrinth, Georgia.”

“I know,” she says. Her understanding acts like a balm on my aching heart, yet it’s not enough to ease the guilt.

There’s a faint rustling before another voice cuts through the line. “This is Isaak,” the man announces firmly. “I’m your mother’s mate. And I’m here with your brother, Serafim.”

“Hi, Colin!” my brother says in his small voice. The innocent sound of his greeting pierces through the turmoil. I swallow the lump in my throat.

Isaak says to me, “Colin, if you will have me, I claim you as mine, son of my mate. When your mother wakes, we will meet you in California. I have conditions. My herd will require proof that you are indeed mates after what Circe did to her people, and what you did to take part. They will want to witness Helios kiss you both, or they won’t welcome either of you. And I won’t be able to stop them.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” I can’t hide the fear in my voice. Terror that Momma won’t make it.

After a pause, Isaak continues, “If, in the worst case, your mother doesn’t wake, Serafim and I will still meet you. But you can’t seek Helios without us. The herd must bear witness.”

My grip on the phone tightens. “We understand,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.

The call ends and I close my eyes, letting the tension ebb out of me, if only for a moment.

Circe’s hand finds mine, and her warmth anchors me. I sense Ioannis and Ambrose’s toxic presence a few yards away, watching us but too lost in their own bitterness to care.

Circe’s gaze meets mine. Questions flicker in her eyes. Instead of asking them, she holds my hand tighter. I experience the barest hope that maybe, just maybe, we can have a life beyond the demons of my past and all the darkness that has shaped us both.