Page 62 of Reptile Dysfunction
“When monsters revealed themselves, many enforcers struggled to find their place in the new order,” Dad continues. “But Thaddeus found a way to transform protective instincts into community service—first through teaching, and now through Guardian Solutions, which the council has unanimously voted to name Harmony Glen’s official security partner for all future town events.”
Applause erupts, genuine and enthusiastic. From my position near the stage, I see Thad’s expression shift from surprise to something deeper—pride mixed with a kind of peace I’ve rarely seen on his face. His snakes all rise tall, poised, and dignified (except Sterling, who executes what can only be described as a victory dance).
“This official partnership,” Dad announces over the continuing applause, “represents everything the Revelation celebration stands for—not erasing our differences or pretending the past never happened, but building something new that honors both our separate histories and our shared future.”
More applause follows as Dad presents Thad with an official certificate. When Thad steps to the microphone, his snakes arrange themselves in what I recognize as their most formal configuration.
“Thank you,” he says simply, his deep voice carrying easily across the square. “Five years ago, I thought my purpose had ended with the Revelation. I was wrong. It had only evolved.”
His eyes find mine in the crowd, and my heart does that ridiculous flutter again.
“Guardian Solutions exists because this community was ready for protection without fear, security without shadows.” He pauses, allowing his gaze to sweep the gathered faces. “And because one person was brave enough to tell the real story.”
The warmth that floods through me has nothing to do with the summer evening. Several people turn to look at me, connecting the dots between the mayor’s journalist daughter and the Guardian Solutions origin story.
As Thad concludes his brief remarks and steps down to continued applause, I feel my mother’s knowing gaze.
“He’s going to ask you tonight,” she says with absolute certainty.
“Ask me what?”
“Don’t play dumb, dear. It doesn’t suit you.” She adjusts her shawl with a smile. “The question is, what will you say?”
Before I can respond, Thad reaches us, his snakes already extending toward me eagerly.
“Congratulations,” I say, trying to sound composed despite Sterling’s shameless affection. “Official town security partner is quite the achievement.”
“I had help,” he says, his eyes conveying much more than his words. “A good journalist source.”
After exchanging pleasantries with my mother (who then mysteriously discovers she needs to speak to someone on the other side of the square), Thad guides me toward a quieter corner of the celebration. As we walk, I notice his snakes are more restless than usual—several keep rising and settling repeatedly, while Sterling seems to be practicing some sort of choreographed movement. Even for snakes accustomed to showing off, their behavior feels… rehearsed.
“There’s something I need to show you,” he says, keeping his gaze away from mine. “Away from the crowd.”
“Mysterious,” I tease, but my pulse quickens. “Lead the way, Official Security Partner.”
He guides me across the square to where the celebration meets the park, fairy lights giving way to the natural glow of fireflies among the trees. The sounds of the gathering fade slightly, creating a pocket of relative quiet while still keeping the festivities in view.
“I had a whole speech planned,” he says, his snakes now arranging themselves in what appears to be a practiced formation. “About evolution and protection and finding purpose. But after everything today—the water ballet, theofficial announcement, seeing how far we’ve come—it feels like overthinking it.”
“Overthinking what?” But my heart already knows.
In answer, Sterling extends toward me, something small and glittering held carefully in his mouth. The iridescent snake deposits it gently in my palm—a ring, the center stone surrounded by smaller ones that catch the fairy lights in a pattern unmistakably similar to Sterling’s scales.
“Well,” I manage, staring at the ring as Sterling preens smugly, “I have to admit—that’s the most useful thing he’s ever done.”
Sterling immediately rears back in mock offense, while Thad’s laugh comes out shaky with nerves.“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Thad says, his voice lacking its usual command. “He’s been practicing that move for a week.”
Thad draws a slow breath before continuing, his amber eyes catching in the fairy light. “I used to think my purpose was protecting people from the shadows. But you taught me that real protection means stepping into the light together. You make me want to be brave enough to love you openly, with nothing held back.”
His voice drops to that intimate register that makes my knees weak. “Sloane, you saw someone worth loving when I couldn’t even see someone worth saving.”
The other snakes create a swaying pattern above him, a more graceful version of their water ballet choreography, forming a heart.
“From the moment you walked into my pool, something changed,” he continues, taking my free hand. “You saw all of me—the enforcer, the swimming teacher, even the reluctant water ballet star—and somehow made me believe that all of it together was someone worth choosing.”
Tears blur my vision, making the fairy lights and his snakes melt into a dazzling haze. “It was,” I manage. “Is. Always.”
“Sloane Whitaker,” he says, his honey-gold eyes holding mine, “will you marry me? Snakes and all?”
