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My feet move on their own accord, and I vaguely register myself walking towards the door to watch the council being led out through the halls. I grimace at the bronze doors embedded in the wall beside me, not realizing how much force I put into pushing them open until now.
The sound of footsteps follows me, but I ignore it, needing to see with my own eyes. Everything else could wait. I watch the guardians lead the council—or former council members—into the corridor with the offices. I pull my wings close to my back, not retracting them fully. Surprisingly, I’m loving the feeling of them on display, the sense of being whole that washes over me with them out. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until Adrian and I made the plan to interrupt the meeting with a show of force. I’m done suppressing my powers and my true strength. If they want to endanger my family, then all bets are off, and I’ll fight with whatever I have to keep them safe. My chest warms at the thought of calling them my family, which they now are. All four of them are a part of me, just as much if not more than my father and Nelle.
A warm, masculine hand clasps my shoulder, and I look up to see Kyros standing beside me, where I paused just outside the doorway. His eyes shine with pride as he gazes back at me, smiling widely.
Movement off to the side catches my attention. A few of the guardians are leaving the corridor and heading back in our direction. I cock an eyebrow in question at Kyros, hoping he can understand my silent question. He squeezes my shoulder, and nods, signaling he’ll explain after.
I observe the so-called guardians, still confused as to what exactly they are. The men and women move like warriors, their strides decisive and measured, almost militant in nature. Clad in form-fitting leather armor, they look like they’re some sort of a military group with swords and knives strapped over their chests and backs. I eye their white wings, slightly smaller than my own, the voluminous feathers contrasting their battle-ready appearance.
They fall into formation before us, my father stepping up on my other side as they drop to one knee, bowing their heads in deference, hands clasped over their hearts.
“Sir, we have secured the four gods in the administration residences as instructed,” The guardian in the center relays, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.
“Very good, please rise.” My father motions to them.
“Put guardians at every entry point, with more patrolling the grounds. A few will need to be stationed in each of the classrooms and any other communal areas.”
The leader nods, his shoulder-length black hair swinging around his face. “Sir, what of the gods under surveillance?” the leader asks, his face betraying no emotion.
“They are not to leave the academy grounds. I want at least twenty guardians on each of them at all times. And send a force to the gods’ residences to keep my daughter safe,” my father finishes, clasping a hand on my shoulder in introduction.
The leader’s fists tighten slightly, the only indication of surprise he shows before he clasps a hand over his heart, bowing in my direction. The others follow his lead, doing the same, and my cheeks heat at the attention.
“Absolutely not,” Mateo bellows from behind us, marching forward. He brushes past Kyros to face us, standing at the leader’s side.
“We do not need your guardians to keep our mate safe, you can post them elsewhere,” Mateo grumbles, crossing his arms over his broad chest in defiance. I follow the movement, glued to the way his thick biceps flex. That is until his words register in my mind. I really do enjoy it when my guys act possessive, but I think I’ve more than proven myself today, and no one has the right to act as though I’m a damsel in distress.
I glance back at the leader, and the only reaction he gives to the admission is his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows nervously.
I step forward, allowing Kyros and my father’s hands to fall from my shoulders and turn to face them all. Only now realizing the few unfamiliar faces I haven’t met before, the other majors, I’m assuming if their outstretched golden wings are any indication.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me, so thank you for the offer, father, but it’s unnecessary to have guardians stationed at the residence.”
He clearly doesn’t agree with my statement, but he’s going to have to deal with it. I’m not a child any longer, and I’m coming into my power. He can’t always be there to protect me, and if Titus’ power could block even him from coming to my aid, there will be nothing even a troop of fifty guardians can do about it. “It’s more important to have them around the school, protecting the students in case there are any more attacks like the ones last semester. I can take care of myself,” I say the last part softer, understanding his need to protect me but willing him to see the logic in my words. To my surprise, he nods, not arguing any further.
Mateo gives my father a smug smirk.
“And you,” I say, drawing his attention over to me. His grin falls as he takes in my stern look, his brows creasing in confusion. “I can more than take care of myself, and I don’t appreciate the implication that I need my mates to protect me,” I say primly, crossing my arms over my chest in much the same fashion he had, allowing no room for argument. I don’t miss the way his eyes follow the movement, glued to my chest in much the same way my own were examining his flexing biceps. Swallowing thickly, I ignore the hungry look he gives me as I remember just how many people we have watching us right now. I glance back out at the others, my guys watching our exchange in amusement, I almost huff out an indignant breath but catch myself, noticing the man, or Orrin, the god of wisdom eyeing me intently, interest glittering in his blue gaze.
I glance away, not wanting to hold his keen gaze any longer. A shiver runs up my spine at the implication held there. Nyssa, the blue-haired god of justice eyes me curiously, her hand clasping her chin as she takes me in, before she gives me a nod of respect. Her aqua gaze still assessing me. Phillipa, the only one to have taken a back seat with the council. Her brown curls frame her face, lips lined in a vibrant blood-red. They curve slightly before widening into a broad smile. They look more menacing than I would have thought from the god of love. I break eye contact quickly, not wanting to see the cold malicious intent in her sunny golden gaze any longer.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving.” I turn on my heel, the school bells ringing a moment later, perfectly underscoring my statement. Classes must be over for the day. Students stream out of the classroom wing, making a beeline to the dining hall for some much needed sustenance.
I take a few steps forward before spinning—the hallway, usually so loud you can barely hear yourself think over the cacophony, students’ voices—is silent. Sharp intakes of breath are the only sounds I can hear through the eerie silence. I suck in a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable scene. Streams of students that were making their way to the dining hall have stopped in their tracks, their attention on the gods and guardians grouped outside the auditorium.
Muffled cries of shock hit my ears, some students dropping to their knees at the sight of the winged guardians and the majors. Some students edge closer while others are glued to their place, frozen in shock at the scene before them.
Others fight their way through, straining past the immobile students to see what all the commotion is.
“Please continue on your way.” My father’s voice booms out over the crowd, audible even to those in the distance. “An announcement will be made soon. For now, please stay out of the way as we complete our business.”
Students rush forward at his words, not waiting another moment for the leader of the light majors. Some students shake in fear, while others stare on with keen intrigue.
The hallways begin to clear with the last few students making their way into the dining hall, but a few straggle behind in an attempt to glean any information they can.
“Olivia, correct?” a male voice that I don’t recognize asks behind me. I spin, almost knocking into him in my haste. His fingers wrap around my biceps, catching me before I crash into him. He huffs out a breath of amusement, keeping his hands there a few moments longer than necessary, inciting a chorus of growls from behind him.
The man, or god, Orrin, backs away, his hands raised in a placating gesture as my four mates move around me. Their contempt is clear as they settle around me.
