Page 30 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Circe

“A mitéra’s love is stronger than any other love, even the love of mates.”

Each day that passes with our child growing inside me, the burdens of my past mistakes press deeper into my soul. The life I once knew and the bonds I once shared with my family all seem like distant memories I’ll never be able to reclaim. With every moment my child grows, I can’t help but feel like I’m failing as a daughter. My own mistakes and the choices I made that led me here have created an insurmountable rift between me and my herd. I was once my parents’ pride, their hope, but now?

Yes, my mate is a Minotaur, just as I vowed to find. Colin is everything I could have asked for and more, but the price of finding him has been steep. It cost me a relationship with my parents. The bond I thought would last forever is now fractured, perhaps irreparably. The love I once had for them, the way I was raised to hold my head high in the face of all challenges, is now tainted with guilt and loss.

I can’t go back after everything that happened. Even if I wanted to, the thought of seeing disappointment in my parents’ eyes haunts me, and I can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever look at me the same way. Maybe one day, they’ll visit me here like they do with my sisters, but I can’t count on it. I can only hold on to a thread of hope, even though it feels thinner with each passing day.

Colin and I didn’t have the means to make the trip to Cache Creek. We barely had enough to get us this far, yet somehow, we made it. We relied on the kindness of strangers. Truck drivers gave us rides, taking us as far as they could and sometimes even farther than we expected. There’s always a lingering fear when you hitch a ride with someone you don’t know. What if they’re dangerous? What if they’re a killer? We trusted Colin’s strength, knowing that if anything went wrong, he would crush anyone who dared try to harm us.

We were lucky. The journey wasn’t as perilous as it could have been. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t grueling, though.

As much as I long for a warm bed, a roof over my head, and food that wasn’t a granola bar or a can of beans, I can’t shake the feeling of being out of place.

Colin and I both wear clothes that haven’t been changed since the mating ceremony. We smell of dust and sweat from our travels.

I ache for a shower. A chance to wash away the filth that clings to us. But there is no guarantee we’ll get that luxury. The mating ceremony must prove our mating before we’re offered a home in Isaak’s herd.

We are far from home, and neither of us have any belongings. Everything I had and once cared about was left behind in the wake of my decision to leave.

We’ve arrived at the casino where Isaak had told us to meet. We find a small spot under a scraggly tree that looked like it hadn’t been cared for in years—the life nearly drained from its low-hanging branches. The faint scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air. We sit and wait in the dry, barren spot. The minutes feel like hours.

Exhaustion overtakes me, and my eyelids flutter shut. I let my head rest on my knees, catching a few seconds of sleep. The sound of Colin’s voice jerks me awake. I sit up, blinking away the fog of sleep.

Colin springs up. His large frame moves with an agility that seems impossible for someone his size. He rushes toward a woman I hadn’t seen before. Without hesitation, he scoops her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly as if she were a feather.

There is a man and a small boy standing beside them. My heart clenches in a strange mix of jealousy and understanding. This was his momma, I realized. This was his family. I don’t have to worry about killing anyone for touching my mate.

Her small frame doesn’t seem to bother Colin in the slightest. He holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world to him. That thought softened something inside of me—this was his true family, and I am about to meet them.

His herd wasn’t like mine. We used Greek terms to address our elders as a nod to the tradition and culture that ran through our veins. But Colin’s people adhered to English terms—simple, straightforward titles that feel foreign to me. “Momma” and “Poppa” don’t quite hold the same emotions, but I understand their significance.

Brushing the dirt from my skirt, I walk over to Colin and his family. The air between us seems different, charged with something new. I’m not afraid of what comes next.

This is my future now. They are my future.