Page 40 of The Survivors (The Children of the Sun God #4)

Niki

“The most natural, and, consequently, the truest and most intense of the human affections are those which arise in the heart as if by electric sympathy.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe

As he speaks, the walls I’ve built around me crack, just a little. Enough to let the light in.

The acrid scent of smoke fills the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of wildflowers carried by the night breeze.

I stand at the edge of the clearing, and the orange glow of the pyre heats my cheeks.

The men have worked tirelessly through the day, carrying the lifeless forms of the women, who never made it out of the labyrinth. My other sisters, my friends, my mother, and my children are being laid to rest with a dignity they had been denied in life.

I wrap my arms around myself. My fingers clutching at the fabric of my dress. It is one of the soft, flowing dresses Michail brought me. The kind that makes me feel like someone else—someone whole. But tonight, I don’t feel whole. I feel fractured, torn between the past that clings to me like a ghost and the promise of something more. Something I don’t know if I deserve.

Michail is at the pyre, standing shoulder to shoulder with the others. The flames illuminate his strong frame. He hadn’t said much to me after our walk the night before, giving me the space he seems to know I need. But his presence is constant, like the steady hum of the earth beneath my feet.

He bows his head and murmurs something I can’t hear. The flames leap higher, scattering sparks into the starless sky, and for a moment, I imagine the spirits of the women rising with us, freed from the labyrinth’s grip.

A lump forms in my throat. They deserve this. They deserve to be mourned, to be remembered.

But what about me? Do I deserve to leave, to find freedom and a life beyond this place? I glance at Michail again. My chest tightening. His words from the night before return to mind. Love is about growing together, roots deep and branches wide.

Can I grow? Can I be something more than the broken pieces left behind by the labyrinth?

My breath trembles as I step closer to the fire, drawn by an invisible force. I’m not ready to leave—not yet. But maybe tonight, as the flames consume the past, I can start to let go.

Only silent tears are shed while we watch those we loved experience dignity for the first time in their lives. We’ve all learned to stifle the sobs. Ugly tears only got us punished. Maybe one day, I’ll find the freedom to cry again.

I’ve delivered three stillborn children over the years. I didn’t even allow myself to grieve one of them. All sons, born from the seed of the humans who bought my body.

I loved each of them while they kicked and turned in my belly. But I only felt relief when they didn’t take a breath in this life.

Helios’ mercy welcomed them into his arms before Ioannis could taint their souls.

I need to tell Michail about my sons. What if I can’t ever give birth to a living child? Will he still want me?

I take a step back from the growing flames once the wind shifts, sending the smoke into my eyes and nose.

Michail joins me. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Somewhere in those remains are my three sons. All stillborn. I’ve never given life to a child, and I don’t know if I can.”

Instead of offering me words or promises, Michail pulls me into his arms. At first, my body stiffens, not knowing how to respond. Quickly, peace envelops every part of my soul. Wanting more, I relax and slide my arms around his back. I never want to lose this feeling.

With my face buried in his chest and the smell of smoke combined with his scent, I know I can do this. When the others leave, I’ll be ready too.