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I watch our guests as they descend the stairs, clearly not having heard our conversation. Titus perches on one of the wooden dining room chairs he pulled over, while Kallen leans against the railing, far enough removed for his comfort.
I don’t blame him, and honestly, it’s more comfortable with him at a distance. I still don’t know what to make of him or if we can fully trust him either, but I have to try and take my words to heart. Ego won’t help us on the battlefield.
Titus catches my gaze and rolls his eyes as though he knows exactly where my thoughts have gone.
“Speaking of help, do we have a status report on the progress the students have been making?” Mateo asks. He leans against the wall on the opposite side, like he’s observing and poised for attack, keeping our guests and the door in his sights.
“The demigods have been progressing well in their enhanced training, but it isn’t enough,” Osias says, shaking his head. “Most of them think it’s a long shot that they’ll have to fight, and it’s impeding their progress.”
“That is going to be a problem,” Titus says, eliciting a disapproving sigh from Kallen, which we all ignore. “Romulus will be attacking the school. It’s not a question of if, but when.”
We knew this was a possibility; we knew that Romulus might split his troops to attack both the academy and Ethereal, but hearing it put like that is another matter entirely. My stomach drops, and tension radiates through the room.
Exhaustion drags me down like a lead weight, the burden of my limbs greater than it’s ever felt before. My eyelids begin to shutter, broadcasting my need to regain some of the strength I lost from healing so many soldiers.
Olivia rests her hand on my leg, and the simple, comforting touch sends a burst of energy straight through me. She was there with me each step of the way. She fought her way through the barren wasteland of the infernal realm, battled against Romulus, and helped me heal some of the worst patients, saving them from wounds the medics wouldn’t have been able to patch.
I’m not sure what I’d do without this woman, without her strength and support.
“We need to have a meeting with the professors, get an accurate picture of what they and the demigods have been doing in terms of the enhanced training schedule, and we’ll need to ramp it up,” I announce, already forming lesson plans in my mind.
My time might have been short as a professor myself, but I’ve taught before, and read countless texts on the subject.
“We’ll have to tell the students that the threat is imminent, that this isn’t just so they can defend themselves on the off chance the demons and dark gods get through our soldiers. They will have to be there, fighting side by side. It’s the only way we can fight this war on two fronts.”
Olivia’s hand tightens on my leg while she chews her bottom lip, apprehension clear in her expression, but she doesn’t argue.
“You’re right,” she agrees before I can say another word. “They need to learn how to fight, and they need to be prepared for how serious this battle will be.”
She swallows thickly, a steely determination in her gaze.
“We need to step it up though,” Adrian says, his hand caressing Olivia’s leg over her leather pants in comfort. “The demigods helped them access their powers, but we need to help them know how to wield them with deadly accuracy.”
“Agreed,” Osias says. “I’ll send word out for a shift of gods to arrive each day to teach. It should help some of them shake the rust off their defensive and offensive powers as well.”
Some of the tension seeps from my bones at the beginning of the plan coming together, but there’s still the issue of implementing it.
“We should meet with the professors in the morning,” I announce, knowing there will be a lot of preparation behind the scenes, especially with the gods taking over the reins. “You should plan your speech to the students right after that, and we’ll have to clear out the—”
“Me?” Osias chuckles. “No, I think it would be best if you did the speech.”
“I’m sure the students would rather hear from the leader than from me.” My brows furrow as I stare back at Osias, disbelief drawing my lips down into a frown.
Silence echoes through the room, and I wait for someone to agree with me, to tell Osias that it should be him that speaks to the students, but no one says a word.
“Olivia?” I ask, my eyes softening as I look to my mate, searching for her support.
“I agree with him, Kyros,” she says, her grip tightening on my leg as a sign of support.
“But I’m not the leader,” I insist, my head tilting in confusion as I study her face, searching for some sign that she’s joking.
“You might not be the leader, but you’re a leader to them. You’ve been with them—with me—each step of the way, helping them navigate their new lives and giving them hope and strength in the midst of every new obstacle that has stood in their way.” Her eyes shine with pride when she looks back at me, a small smile tilting her lips up in encouragement.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” I clear my throat, numbly standing from the couch. My stomach twists as Olivia’s hand drops from my leg, but I don’t dare look back at her, my heart unable to take the look of disappointment on her beautiful face.
The blood drains from my face as I stride from the room, my body moving on autopilot. I try to ignore the giant pit opening in my stomach as I walk up the stairs, my shoes echoing on the wooden planks the only sound my brain registers.
I don’t have a problem speaking in front of crowds; I don’t even have a problem being the one in charge of the training plans. But this is different. If I’m the one going in front of the students, the one telling them their lives are in jeopardy before they’ve even truly begun ... it adds a new level of pressure, a feeling that I’m truly responsible for all of their lives.
