Page 37 of Damian

“In that unlikely event, Serafim and I will meet you without her. Colin, you can’t petition Helios without us. The herd must bear witness.”

“We understand.”

After they hang up, silence hangs heavy with unspoken words and emotions.

“How do you know what Circe did to us?” Jayce challenges, his brows narrowing in suspicion.

Isaak shrugs. “I don’t, but if she left your herd to follow the monsters who built this place, she can’t be someone trustworthy.”

A soft whisper breaks the silence. “Serafim,” Lena says weakly, bringing a glimmer of hope to the tense atmosphere.

Everyone shifts their attention to Lena. Her heart lifts with the possibility of Lena’s recovery. Isaak reaches for her hand, his orbs filled with tears of relief. “Lena, we’re here,” he whispers back, his words choked with emotion.

Serafim climbs up onto the bed, and his small hand gently touches his mother’s face. “Momma, I’m here,” he whispers. His innocence is a beacon of light in the darkness.

Emjay steps back, giving the family space. Her own heart aches with sorrow and wishes. She exchanges a glance with Jayce, and a silent understanding passes between them.

Georgia sits in a chair to speak with Lena. The newly wakened mother surely has questions about the ticking in her head and the man standing over her with joy on his face.

Chapter 25

Damian

“I don’t have to agree with her hatred, but as her mate, whatever she feels toward another is exactly how I feel about them.” ~ Damian

The more time we spend in Emjay’s presence, the more in tune my bull and I grow toward our mate. It’s a connection that deepens with each passing day, and a bond that strengthens with every shared moment. Something about Circe’s call stirred deep emotions inside of Emjay, and it affected her deeply, even if the reasons aren’t immediately apparent to my understanding.

We left the tent when Lena woke, and Jayce went back to Shay, who was helping the others organize and set up the new provisions. Emjay’s daughters have been right there amongst the women from day one. Answering questions about the outside world and their mates. Neither has spent any time with Emjay, which I know adds to the ache inside her heart. She hasn’t approached them either. Her reasons are a fear of rejection and an uncertainty about how to proceed.

The camp buzzes with activity, everyone busy with their tasks, yet my mind focuses on Emjay’s reaction.

“Emjay, may I ask why that call upset you? I ask because you barely knew Circe,” I ask cautiously, not wanting to upset her further but longing to understand. To learn what makes her the person she is.

She turns to me; her gaze searching mine for a moment. “She’s not one of the heifers who broke your heart, is she?”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. The memory is still painful. “She delivered the letter her sister sent, informing me of her nuptials with a human. I’ve neither seen nor heard from either woman since they dumped me.”

It can’t be mere jealousy that upset her. There is something more, something deeper.

Emjay huffs. “After everything that’s happened to me, I don’t forgive easily. I hold grudges. I’d gone for a walk around the park the night of the ceremony, and I witnessed her approach Jayce in her birthday suit. She tried to make it look like he wasn’t faithful to my Shay. While Shay didn’t believe the scene for one minute, and beat the hell out of Circe, it got to me. It reminded me of all that I’ve missed. Shay’s so strong and confident. And it has nothing to do with me.”

I step closer, wanting her to feel my support. “It has everything to do with you. That strength is inside of you too. It took strength to give her up and let strangers raise her. It took strength to return to her, not knowing how she’d react. It even took strength to open up to me just now. Both of your daughters are a piece of you. Nature versus nurture doesn’t matter. They both played a part in who your daughters are, and just because you didn’t nurture them doesn’t mean you still can’t. Nor does it make your sacrifice meaningless.”

Emjay looks at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

I nod, reaching out and gently taking her hand. “Absolutely. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ve shown it in so many ways. Your past doesn’t define you. It has shaped you into the incredible person you are today. And that strength, that resilience, it’s in Shay too. She gets it from you.”

She squeezes my hand. A small smile forms on her lips. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

We stand there for a moment with the weight of our conversation settling around us. Our vision roams over the group of men and women working in harmony—a community woven together by mutual respect and shared purpose.

The women move gracefully. Many of them wear a mask of armor. Their hearts are guarded yet open, and their spirits strong. They work side by side with the men who tend to the various tasks needed.

Children huddle together, their laughter and playful chatter filling the air. With an infectious enthusiasm, Frank teaches some of the older children how to kick a soccer ball. Their joy is a reminder of innocence and optimism, a distinct contrast to the adult responsibilities surrounding them.

Nearby, men carry buckets of water toward a tent where the bathtub awaits. The women eagerly anticipate their turn, excited to wash away a lifetime of grime with the soaps and other body care products their mates brought. Each woman looks forward to putting on clean clothes before the night ends.

A few of the women try helping carry water, but Michail gently put his foot down. “It is time you learned how precious and valuable you are by allowing us to serve you,” he insists, his tone firm yet kind. The women smile, appreciating the gesture and the care behind his words.

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