Page 389 of Immune

The question is soft and just for me. Even after a year, he still asks like the answer matters more than his instinct to protect.

I flex my fingers casually so Maine doesn’t threaten me with glitter again and say, “I’m getting a professional manicure, fed against my will, and traumatizing my brother at the same time. I’m living the dream.”

Fletcher’s thumb brushes over my ankle gently. “Good.”

Valeria appears below in the yard at that exact moment, speaking with two guards near the armory. She looks up and spots us, so I lift two fingers. She returns the gesture without a smile or softness. Just two people with respect for one another.

She kept her word after the Hale fallout. After Hale was dragged out, Valeria tore through every name tied to him. Officers who helped him lost their positions. People who looked away were removed. Better ones took their places. Rules changed. Doors got windows. Research got witnesses. And Omegas got choices written into law with consequences sharp enough to matter.

Valeria didn’t save Haven Ridge by becoming a nicer, kinder person. She saved it by being honest, and I’ll always respect the hell out of that.

“Fuck’s sake, Kota, stop moving,” Maine snaps, tugging my hand back down.

“I waved.”

“Yeah, with the hand I’m working on, dumbass,” he points out.

“My other one has cake in it.”

“That’s it,” he says. “One glitter nail.”

“No, wait—”

“Two glitter nails. Keep going and I’ll keep adding.”

“You’re diabolical,” I breathe, eyeing him like I don’t even know him.

“You drove me to this point,” he tells me, shaking his head at me like I’m the biggest problem in his life.

I look at the others and whisper loudly, “Pack meeting. Glitter is emotional warfare.”

Kaito studies my nails for a beat before he says, “One glitter nail could be tactical.”

My jaw drops. “You too?”

He shrugs. “Reflective. Distracting. Could work.”

Ewan nods in agreement. “Blind your enemies with boujee.”

“Might suit you,” Fletcher adds, lips twitching.

Xeon looks at my hand, then at me. “You’d pretend to hate it.”

I glare at him. He knows too much. That’s the problem with these bonds. They give people the audacity to notice stuff and things and then use those stuff and things to stab you in the back with glitter polish and killer smiles.

Maine smiles slowly, a villainous look if I’ve ever seen one.

“No,” I warn, shaking my head slowly, kind of scared to look away from him now.

But it’s too late. He paints my smallest nail with glitter polish he absolutely brought with him on purpose. The man has a plan and it was executed perfectly with the help of my own pack. The nerve of it all.

I watch it shimmer in the sun.

Gross.

Horrifying.

Sparkly.