(Lucian's POV)
Lucian leaned against the far end of the training ground, arms crossed, his golden eyes following Olivia closely.
She looked steady on her feet, but he could tell she was still tired. Even after healing, the exhaustion of everything she had endured clung to her like a second skin.
Stefan stood in the center of the field, looking as cold and merciless as ever.
"You think you're strong because you survived a few battles?" Stefan's voice cut through the air sharply. "Survival isn't strength. Strength is surviving again, and again, and again—until you can no longer be broken."
Lucian's fists tightened at his sides. His instincts screamed to protect Olivia, but he stayed still. If he interfered now, she would hate him for it. She needed to fight her own battles.
Stefan paced in front of the small group gathered — Olivia, Lucian himself, Tyler, Freya, Liam, Ellie, Henrik, Bella, and Klaus.
