STEPH'S OUTCAST

A SCIFI ALIEN ROMANCE

RUBY DIXON

Copyright © 2021 by Ruby Dixon

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Photo: Period Images

Cover Design: Kati Wilde

Edits: Aquila Editing

Created with Vellum

CONTENTS

Steph’s Outcast

A note for sensitive readers

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author’s Note

The People of Icehome Beach

Want More?

STEPH’S OUTCAST

EVER SINCE WE FOUND THE TWO OUTCASTS, IT’S BEEN MY GOAL TO GET THEM TO JOIN OUR BEACH TRIBE. HANDSOME, IMPOSSIBLE JUTH HAS RESISTED ALL MY EFFORTS TO RECRUIT HIM AND HIS SMALL SON. HE’S MADE IT VERY CLEAR THAT HE DOESN’T BELONG WITH US.

BUT WHEN I’M TRAPPED AT JUTH’S SIDE AS THE BEACH IS INVADED BY MONSTERS, EVERYTHING CHANGES. HE TALKS TO ME INSTEAD OF POINTEDLY IGNORING ME. WE BECOME FRIENDS. HECK, WE EVEN SHARE A FEW STOLEN KISSES. AND WHEN THE RESCUE PARTY ARRIVES, HE ANNOUNCES TO EVERYONE THAT I’M HIS MATE AND HE’S JOINING THE TRIBE.

WHICH IS GREAT EXCEPT…I NEVER AGREED TO ANYTHING? IF I POINT OUT I’M NOT JUTH’S MATE, HE’LL PACK UP AND LEAVE WITH HIS SON. HE SURE WON’T GIVE ME MORE OF THOSE TOE-CURLING KISSES OR TOUCH ME LIKE IT’S THE GREATEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO HIM.

SO…I GUESS I’M MATED? BECAUSE I’M NOT SURE I CAN GIVE ANY OF THAT - OR JUTH - UP.

A NOTE FOR SENSITIVE READERS

I’m doing my best to improve at trigger warnings! That being said, there will always be things that fly under my radar, simply because they do not trigger me or it doesn’t occur to me. If I miss something and you feel I should point it out to readers, please email me or send me a message on Facebook and I’m happy to update! I want the books to be a safe environment for reading. <3

This particular story deals with the following (not really spoilers) issues that might bother some readers:

— Abandonment

— Displacement from home

— Acceptance in a group/Being an outsider amongst others

— Cephalopods (tentacle monsters!) in a non-sexual context (which might be a spoiler, but it’s also on the cover, soooo…)

Enjoy!

1

STEPH

M ost days I love my little therapy sessions with my tribe. I love being able to sit down with each person and get into their minds. I love hearing what they're thinking, and helping them figure out problems. I love understanding what makes them tick.

Most days, that is.

Today is one of those days where the therapy is...kinda not happening.

I'm seated in Bridget and A'tam's hut, ready for our usual sessions. We do these almost every other day, and some are more intense than others. Bridget has a hard time opening up to people, and A'tam is somewhat clueless but means well and adores her. They bicker quite a bit...but I've also learned that they just like arguing for the sake of arguing. Like today.

"He said my breakfast was terrible," Bridget says, a scowl on her face. "That he wouldn't feed it to the fishes. And that was a shitty, shitty thing to say to someone that had just spent plenty of time making you food. You could at least be grateful!" She spits the last to A'tam, who just grins as if all of this is funny.

Before I can cut in to defuse the situation, A'tam speaks up. "My mate, I am so grateful you made a seed porridge that is hard enough for me to sharpen my fangs upon."

Bridget glares at him.

“You’re resonated,” I remind them. “You love each other. Arguments are fine, but let’s remember that, all right?”

“Resonance doesn’t mean love,” Bridget points out. “It just means resonance.”

“I know—”

“Do you have a partner in the furs, S’teph?” A’tam asks suddenly. “Is this why you know so much about how mated people communicate?”

“I know a lot because I studied it,” I say, though I know the whole “studied” thing doesn’t mean anything to him. “And no, I don’t have a partner in the furs. I’m waiting for resonance.”

Bridget just frowns at A’tam. “You didn’t know that?”

“Why would I know that?” He spreads his hands. “I asked because I did not know.”

“Yeah, but if you knew anything about Steph, you would know she’s waiting for resonance. She told us that in our last meeting with her, remember?”

He just shrugs.

“Do you even listen at all?” she complains, growing upset. “We are in here to improve our relationship and I feel like you’re not even paying attention.”

“I pay attention when it is important,” A’tam retorts. “S’teph is not important to me.”

Well, ouch. "Guys," I say gently. "Remember your words—"

"Why are you such a butthole in the morning?" Bridget snaps. "Why do I even bother with you?"

"What, I should be grateful that you ruined all the seeds I gathered up for you?" A'tam's tail flicks, and he's still grinning. "Did you not say the other day that it was wasteful to destroy food? Yet here you are—"

Bridget makes a sound of rage. "So what, are you going to spank me?"

A'tam's tail stills. He leans closer to his mate, and his demeanor changes. "Do you want that?"

The air feels positively charged. Ugh. This is another one of those times when they start arguing and within five minutes, they end up in bed together. They're absolutely bonkers but it's clear they love each other in their weird little way. I wonder if the arguing is foreplay for them. "I feel like we should come to an agreement—"

"You only get spankings if you're naughty," Bridget breathes, but her voice is husky, and she can't take her eyes off her mate.

"Are you naughty, my mate?" A'tam slides closer to her.

I'm out. "You know what? I think we'll finish this session some other time." I get to my feet, but they don't even look in my direction. Bridget slides a hand up to A'tam's face, brushing her fingers over the scruff of his beard, and her expression is so intense that it feels like I'm intruding just to look in her direction. The low hum of purring grows louder as I quickly exit the hut, and the moment the flap closes behind me, I'm pretty sure I hear someone moan.

I head toward the beach, because I need some fresh air after that.

With a little shake of my head, I move toward the water's edge and watch the waves roll in. Someone's out in the water, fishing with nets, and the skies are clear overhead. It's warmer today, just like it's been slightly warmer for several days now, and I'm told that the brutal season is coming to an end, finally. I don't know how many months it's been, but the bitter season—what passes as summer here—is short and only slightly milder, weather-wise. I don't mind. There's a lot of beauty here, especially by the water. I love the ocean, the smell of the salt and the endless rolling of the waves. Sure, there's sand in everything and on everything, but you get used to that after a while. I turn my face toward the water, breathing deeply of the fresh air…

Bridget cries out somewhere behind me, and it is very clearly not a cry of pain.

Wrinkling my nose with mild distaste at overhearing that, I decide to walk down the beach a bit more.

It's not that I have a problem with sex. I'm just not a big fan of overhearing a personal moment like that. I know Bridget well enough that she would be anxious if someone brought it up to her, so I immediately push it out of my mind. I'm trying to be a good friend to all here, since that's what I can bring to the table. I'm not the greatest hunter, and I don't have healing powers like Veronica. I am, however, pretty well versed in psychology and was hoping to get my masters so I could start a therapy practice…before I got kidnapped from Earth. I figure people here need someone to talk to as much as they do back on Earth, so I do what I can to help.

It makes me feel useful. It gives me purpose. It's been almost a year since we were dumped here, and some of us still struggle to find that purpose. I think of Flor, who hides her emotions behind teasing and silliness. Daisy, who obsesses over her appearance, and Sam, who shares nothing about herself at all. Bridget's easier to deal with than Sam, because at least Bridget will tell you if she's upset. Sam just…retreats.

I'm determined to figure everyone out, though. The fisherman in the water turns, and I see it's Sessah. He waves at me, and I wave back, then continue down the beach. The ever-present scent of campfire smoke is accompanied by the smell of fatty fish being fried up, and my mouth waters. I glance over at the communal fire, which is where everyone is gathered for breakfast instead of the longhouse. It's a sunny day—well, sunny-ish, given the ice planet's tiny twin suns that look more like a spider bite in the sky than the actual sun back on Earth—and everyone's outside instead of crowding in for the morning meal at the longhouse. I watch as Gren runs past with Z'hren on his back, mock-chasing Liz's girls, and I smile to myself.

I'll join them…soon.

For now, I let myself be drawn toward the far end of the beach. I continue walking along the shore, toward the boulder that I've marked with paints. It has a faint yellow circle and a few red hearts drawn on it, along with a couple of tiny handprints, courtesy of Rukhar, who wanted to “help” me.

Even from a hundred feet away, I can tell the basket I set down yesterday is still there.

Frustrated, I keep walking toward the rock, just in case I've read it wrong. That maybe Pak and Juth stopped by and took the stuff I placed there and left the basket. That maybe today's the day they'll have left something in return, some sort of sign that they like the presents. Or maybe one of them will emerge from the rocky cliffs and come say hello.

Today's not that day, though. When I get to the rock, I see the bag of jerky still in place. I peek in the basket, and the furs we left, along with Rukhar's outgrown clothing, are all still there.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I glance up at the cliffs and scan the beach, looking for Pak and Juth. It's been almost six months since the outcasts first appeared and they still won't join us. They won't talk to us. We only catch a rare glimpse of them every now and then. I know it's part of the islanders' culture that the outcasts are considered “flawed” somehow and so are shunned by the old clans. That people born without one of the markers of the existing tribes—Tall Horn, Strong Arm, Shadow Cat—were banished to a nearby island and considered unworthy.

But everything's different now. We've all let Juth know that he and his adopted son Pak are welcome to join us. That they aren't considered “Outcast Clan” any longer. That they're welcome to join our little village and lean on us when they need things.

They won't, though. And as time goes on, they accept gifts from us less and less. I've faithfully filled this basket every day since they arrived, and lately, more often than not, the gifts are refused.

I consider myself a therapist, even if I don't have the degree or all the training. I'm the closest thing we have here on this planet. I make it my job to understand people. To grasp why they tick so I can help them.

I don't know how to help Juth and Pak, though, and it bothers me deeply.

I pull out the little clothes from the basket and refold them, then set the bag of spicy fish jerky atop it. It's sunny, so I guess I can leave this stuff out for another day. I wish I knew why the gifts were refused, though. Are the clothes too small? Do they not like dried jerky? If I understood, I could fix it.

It's an obsession of mine, trying to fix people. Sometimes I tell myself if I'd had enough time, maybe I could have fixed my mother. If I'd understood her more, I could have helped. I didn't get to, though, so I channel all of that into my tribe.

And into Pak and Juth.

It doesn't matter if it takes ten more months or ten more years, I'm going to get the two outcasts to join us.

2

JUTH

Something is different with the sands on this day.

I crouch on the shore, running my hand through the pebbled grit. The texture is the same, but the color is…off, slightly. The greenish cast of the sands has a brighter hue to it, and I could swear that it feels warmer to the touch.

Which is foolishness. There is nothing warm about this land at all. The island of my home was a lush, tropical paradise with thick green trees and flowers and fruit-bearing bushes. The sands crawled with life of all kinds, from feathered creatures to long lizards to enormous bugs. It was never a problem to find something to eat. If the jungle did not provide it, the warm waters would.

But that place is gone. The only world we have left is this cold, bleak land full of rocks and ice.

The Outcast clan is gone, too. All that is left is myself and tiny, curious Pak, who needs so much. I have had to step in and be elder and father to him both, and some days, I do not feel prepared at all. But I will continue on, because that is what an Outcast does. We survive despite it all.

"Papa!" Pak comes running up to me, his black hair sticking up and his tufted, short tail wiggling with excitement. He holds something out for me to see. "Look at this!"

I expect it to be something useful, but it is only a pretty shell with brightly colored insides. A hint of a smile tugs at my mouth. "You are supposed to be fishing, my son. Remember? We must feed our hungry bellies."

"But there are no fishes in the water," he tells me. "I throw and throw my net, but nothing comes up." He moves closer to me, peering over my shoulder. "Is my shell pretty? Can I keep it?"

I bite back a hint of frustration. Pak is…not the son I would have chosen. I had always thought a son of mine would be as determined and stubborn as myself. Pak is not my child, though. His mother was Haal, the oldest in our small tribe, and a dreamer. Perhaps that is where he gets his inquisitive, distracted mind from. He has no patience for hunting or fishing. He loves colors and crafts and the songs that they sing on the beach, and it is difficult. If it were not the two of us, I would let him do as he pleases. It is only us, though. He must learn how to feed himself if anything should happen to me. I know he wants to play…but survival must come first.

So I bend down to the sand and rake my hand through it again. "You may keep the shell until it becomes too much to carry. Now, come look at this. Tell me what you notice about the sands."

He bends down, putting his much-smaller hand onto the beach in imitation of my movements. He picks up a bit and rubs it through his fingers, his small face thoughtful, and I am filled with fatherly pride. "It is warm and it feels different. Greasy."

Greasy?

Curious, I rake my fingers through it again. He is right. There is some sort of coating that feels warm to the touch. I grunt, both pleased that he has noticed such a thing and disturbed that I do not have the answer to this.

I am a hunter, and hunters do not like change. Change means less to eat. Pak is right that there are no fish. The normally teeming waters here on the icy shores are silent and empty. Even the annoying creatures with the tentacles that latch on to you and bite everywhere are gone.

Something is happening. But what?

I rub the sand between my fingers thoughtfully and then get to my feet. "Perhaps it is time for us to leave these shores."

Pak stands up, but his expression grows petulant. "I want to stay."

"Even when there is no fish and your belly is empty?"

He digs his toes into the sand, not looking up at me. "We could always eat the treats that the soft female brings us."

I scowl at this. "We have talked about this, Pak."

The little one sighs heavily, and for a moment, he sounds just like me. I have to bite back my amusement. "I know, I know. We cannot take their gifts because they will want something in return. We cannot eat their food because it will make us grow lazy. We are Outcast clan, and we can depend on no one but ourselves."

He says the words automatically, without a hint of emotion, and I know he is simply repeating what I have told him many, many times. It is also clear from his stance that he does not agree with me. I waver, torn between amusement and the need to be stern. "Well, Pak, you are half of Outcast clan. What is it you wish to do?"

He puffs up with pride at being asked, his small chest full. "I should like to see what they left for us this day. If we are going to leave, perhaps it is something we can use for our journey."

I nod thoughtfully. "A wise decision."

Pak beams at me, pleased he has given a good answer.

I gesture at the shore. "Lead the way, young hunter, and we will see what these foolish ones have left for us this day."

"Not foolish, Papa," Pak scolds me. "Just soft. Like the female."

I grunt. They are indeed soft. Soft to live in little huts they have crafted to protect them from the elements. Soft to cover their feet and bodies in furs and cling close to the fires. Soft to work so hard to make food and leather, only to give it to us because they pity us.

They do not know how hard we are, how much we can endure. They will grow weak, and Pak and I will remain strong.

Pak takes the lead, skipping ahead. His small body brims with happiness, and I know he is hoping for more carved toys or another ball to play with. Or paints. Ever since they painted the rock with the strange colors, Pak has been obsessed with getting paints of his own. He would never ask them, because he is my son, and he knows I will not ask. But I know he thinks about them all the time, and sometimes I ache that I cannot give him these things. I ache that he cannot sit amidst that cluster of huts and eat their warm food and use their bright paints. He would love that. Instead, I teach him as my father taught me.

To be an Outcast is to learn to be tough at all costs. There is no softness allowed in our world.

Pak loves the visits to the strangers' rock, though. Even when we do not go, he talks of it all day long. He wonders what gifts they will leave us, what foods they will have brought. He is young enough that the foods are a constant temptation…and I suppose I am, too, because they tempt me, as well. How easy would it be to sit all day on the beach and have fools bring me food and drink? To insist that they care for me and clothe me and I do nothing all day long? I snort at the thought. I do not know who would be dumber in that scenario—them, for catering to me, or me, for allowing myself to become so weak.

"Maybe they left us food today," Pak babbles, talking endlessly as he skips down the sand. "Food that's dry and hard. Or the yummy food with the spices. Remember that? And the bag of leaves? That was weird. What do you think they wanted us to do with the leaves?"

"Mmm." I barely listen, thinking instead of the rock with the drawings on it. It will smell like the red-maned female, I think. R'ven was the one that brought us things for a while. She was strange but kind, even if she did not respect the rules of Outcast clan. I think of how she constantly tried to make fires and babbled at me in her odd language when I objected. I thought to take her as my mate for a time, since I stole her, but she did not listen well, and it was clear her heart belonged to the large Shadow Cat hunter that came after her. I did not mind releasing her back to him, so long as we received something in return. That female was strong and opinionated and scowled a lot.

The reddish-maned female is nothing like her, I think. They are built differently. R'ven was lean and strong, with a pale mane the color of the snows. She could take care of herself, I think. She would be strong and fearless when confronted with danger. This other female, not so much. She is the thing I mean when I say the other clans are soft. She is not lean and strong. She is gentle. She does not hunt like the others, or throw nets. She is all soft curves and full teats that jiggle when she walks down the beach.

I know this, because I have watched her far, far too often.

She thinks that no one sees her when she puts out the basket. That I do not watch. Pak thinks the same, too. That I ignore the things she leaves because I am disgusted by them.

I am most definitely not disgusted by the soft, red-maned female. I do not understand her, but I do not find her disgusting. I watch her like any good hunter, trying to understand his prey. I know that she speaks in a soft, even voice. I know that she hums sounds under her breath when she puts the basket down, and stays for a while, scanning the cliffs as if she hopes to catch a glimpse of us. Her eyes are always full of hope, and I wonder if she leaves, disappointed, when I never come out from the rocks to greet her.

I think about what she must smell like, too. Sometimes I catch her scent, faint and musky, drifting on the wind, and I want to smell it up close. I want to bury my face in her mane and feel if it is soft, if her teats are as full as they seem. If she is soft all over.

I do not share this with Pak, though.

My father taught me that Outcasts must be hard and self-reliant, and I will teach this to him. I cannot think about females and their teats and soft skin. I must think about our next meal, our next shelter. There is no room in our lives for weakness.

When we get to the basket, the scents are old. I am not surprised that it is hers, but I am a little disappointed that it is not more prevalent. I just want to fill my nose with her. One good whiff of her scent, and then I will be satisfied. It is the wondering that makes me obsess, I tell myself. Nothing more.

Pak races ahead, full of excitement. He climbs the rock, putting his small hands over the yellow painted handprints as if saying a greeting to the others, and then he shoves his face into the basket. "More food, Papa!"

I grunt acknowledgment. Food is good. There was food yesterday and we left it…but if we are going to abandon this beach for a new place, perhaps this time we will take it with us. "Let me see it."

Pak slides out of the basket. He holds the bag out, and he has a long strip of the food in his mouth as he holds it up to me. I want to give him a stern look, but I smile instead. He is hungry. We have caught no food this day. Of course he is going to eat. "Save some for our journey," I warn him. "It will do us no good if we eat it before we leave."

"No leaves this time," Pak informs me. "Why do you think they give us leaves?"

"It is for hot drinks," I remind him. "Remember when the elders would make tea over the fire?"

"No," he tells me. "I do not remember the elders at all." He digs into the basket again. "More clothes!"

It bothers me that he does not remember the elders…but he is young and it has been many turns of the moon since the Great Smoking Mountain breathed its last. Soon, I suspect, all he will remember is me.

Which means it is twice as important that I teach him properly. "Leave the clothes," I tell him. "We will only take what is necessary."

"No playthings," he says in a small, sad voice. "No paints."

My chest hurts at his disappointment. I sit down on the rock next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Pak…"

"It is all right, Papa." Pak smiles bravely at me. "It is better this way. Even if there were paints, I would not be able to take them. Right? We must only take what we can easily carry and will not weigh us down. That is the way of the Outcast, yes?"

I nod. Sometimes I hate that it is our way. Sometimes I wish we were something different—soft like the other clans—so he could spend all day playing with paints and not have an empty belly. Wishes do not fill a stomach, though. My father was quick to tell me that when I complained as a small boy. It is something I should tell Pak, too. To make him tougher, stronger.

Instead, I just hug his shoulder. "When we get to the new home, perhaps we will make you paints of your own and you can decorate our cave."

He throws his small arms around my neck and hugs me, and it is days like today that I am glad our clan is Juth and Pak. I am glad we have each other…and I am very, very glad I have a son.

3

STEPH

Everyone's getting incredibly restless with the onset of the warmer weather. No one wants to sit and have therapy talks, and I try not to let it hurt my feelings. It makes sense. Not everyone wants to talk about their feelings when the weather is so nice. There's a million things to do, and I watch as Callie and Marisol work with Vaza and Brooke to rub some dyes into leather. They spread out on the sands, and it stinks to high heaven, so everyone's trying to go upwind. Several of the men have headed off to go hunting, along with the women, and I end up sitting by the fire with the heavily pregnant women. I bring my sewing with me, because I can't just sit around and do nothing when everyone is working. I help with the cooking and cleaning, but since several of the women are heavily pregnant and don't want to leave the camp, they volunteer to do a lot of the cooking, and that means I get sewing duty or net-mending duty. Right now I'm working on stitching together some thick, waterproof boots for both I'rec and O'jek, since they don't have mates to take care of them and help them with their clothes. Does it feel a little sexist sometimes to have the men doing the heavy lifting and the women at camp cooking and cleaning? Yeah, but at the same time, I also get why it happens. If I wanted to hunt, they'd be more than happy to let me do it.

I just…don't. But since everyone pulls their share, I either fish or sew or cook.

I settle in next to Elly, who looks as if she's about to give birth at any minute. Her belly is enormous and she looks distinctly uncomfortable as she sits by the fire. She has pillows tucked in under her hips and Bek hovers over her as if she's glass, holding a bowl of soup so she can eat. She smiles sweetly at him and pushes the soup away. "I'm fine."

Her voice is so low I barely hear it, and I deliberately lean away so she doesn't feel as if I'm intruding on a private conversation.

"Should I get the healer?" Bek asks, frowning down at his mate. "Is it time?"

She shakes her head. "It's all right." When he hesitates, she reaches out and touches his hand. "Can I help decorate the eggs?"

Bek looks absolutely grateful to have something to do. "I will speak to Shail at once. Wait here." He sets the bowl down and races off, heading down the beach.

Eggs? Curious, I look around and sure enough, Gail is at the second campfire, leaning over a boiling pot. Liz's two oldest girls and Rukhar are with her, along with her son Z'hren and Willa, who is also about to pop, baby-wise. "What's going on with the eggs?"

Elly just gives me a shy smile. "Easter egg hunt."

Oh. I know the kits have been restless, and I also know that holidays are an arbitrary sort of thing here. When people get bored and stir-crazy, it's time for a holiday, regardless of the day itself. I watch as Daisy and Bridget approach with a few small pots of paint that Bridget uses to decorate her pottery. "Hope you like eggs," Daisy says brightly. "Taushen found a whole nest of them in the sand, freshly laid. Gail's boiling them up and then we're going to color them and have them for dinner."

"I like eggs," I say, smiling. "Can I paint, too?"

"Paint and hide, if you like." Daisy waves a dismissive hand at my sewing. "That can wait another day."

Daisy still doesn't grasp how much work has to be done to keep a small village humming. It's one of the things others have complained about with her. She's kind and sweet and happy, but she also doesn't do much work. I don't think Daisy realizes it, either. It's something I've been meaning to gently talk about with her…provided I can catch her alone for a moment. It's not a problem yet, but I can see it building up as something resentful, and I want to help guide Daisy through it.

Sometimes I feel like the mother hen when it comes to the others. It's habit, from when my mother wasn't feeling like herself. I'd always step in and try to smooth things, try to handle the situation, try to understand it all so I can fix it. Both my mom and dad are gone, but old habits die hard.

But the idea of something different to do on this day, even if it's just painting Easter eggs, sounds like fun. I set my sewing aside after all and join the others with the painting. And as I work, I carefully set one egg aside specifically for someone small who doesn't have much.

4

JUTH

"P apa," Pak calls excitedly as I pull my empty nets back to the shore again. He dances with excitement, holding something colorful out to me. "Look!"

I toss my net down onto the sands, frustrated. Every day, the fishing grows worse. Our bellies grow hollower, and I tell myself we should leave. We should abandon this beach, since it clearly cannot handle so many people fishing its waters. Pak and I should strike out and find a new, better place to continue the Outcast clan. Yet I cannot bring myself to leave. Every morning, there is a new excuse on my tongue, and by the end of the day, I am angry at myself for wasting yet more time.

My son races up to my side and holds something up proudly. It is an egg, covered in the same bright paints and strange patterns that the rock is decorated with. Bright yellow and orange lines dance across the pale shell, and there is a blue dot on each side. It is…pretty. It is also unnatural. There is no bird in nature that lays such a thing. "Where did you get that?"

He looks abashed. "I…visited the basket. This was left for me." He immediately rushes ahead, grasping at my arm, his little tail flicking excitedly. "They are playing games with the eggs, Papa Juth! And they left this one for me! That means they want me to play with them, right?"

There is such longing on his face that it makes my chest ache. "Pak, you know the rules—"

"Maybe I do not have to talk to them," he says, and it is clear he has thought about this a lot. "Maybe I can just play alongside them?"

"You have to understand," I say carefully. "We are not like them."

"But neither was R'ven and they kept her." He clutches the decorated egg to his chest. "Why can we not be friends?"

"It is complicated. R'ven stays with them because she is female."

This makes him frown. "But my mother was a female and they did not keep her. They made her Outcast."

I have no answer for that. The females on the shore with the survivors of the other clans do not look like any females I have ever seen before. They must be some sort of tribe that has lived on these shores. I think of R'ven and the male—U'dron. He did not care that she had no horns or tail and her skin was a strange pale color. He wanted her and grew angry at the thought of me keeping her, even though by law, she should have been Outcast.

But rules are always different when it comes to females, now that there are none left. It is why I fought so hard to keep R'ven. I remember two of the Shadow Cat members returning to our island after the first death throes of the Great Smoking Mountain. How they demanded that Pak's mother Haal go back with them, to be part of their fractured clan. Other than a lone female in Strong Arm, there were no other females left, and they were willing to forgive her “Outcast” nature because of that.

I remember that Haal spat on them, and I was never so proud to be Outcast as I was in that moment. Suddenly, we were the lucky ones. Our luck did not last, though. The moon turned through its cycles, Haal resonated to her mate, and then little Pak was born. Haal died not long after he was born, her body slowly wasting away as the light of her khui faded from her eyes. Her mate, Ezz, wanted nothing to do with their son, and the other member of Outcast clan, Nen, thought caring for a child was beneath him, as chief hunter of our small group. It was up to me to feed the small, squalling child. It was up to me to watch him day and night, to make sure that he was safe and protected, to clean his bottom when it was dirty and when he got older, to teach him how to swim and fish. Just like Nen, Ezz passed in the second death of the Great Smoking Mountain, and I do not think Pak cried. It is just as well. Ezz was never a father to him.

I am. He is mine though we share no blood.

I run my hand through my son's fluffy, wild mane, similar to my own. "Just because they have changed their rules for a female does not mean they will not change them again. We cannot count on them, my son."

He sighs heavily, clutching the egg to his chest. "I know."

There is such fierce longing on his small face that it makes me ache. I am a bad father, to keep telling him no to so many things he wishes I would say yes to. "We should put it back in the basket," I tell him gently. "Return it to them."

"But it is food—"

"Food they have decorated," I agree. "It must mean something special, and we cannot trust it."

"Tricky clans," Pak says, his expression sad as he gazes down at the egg. "It is so pretty, though. I want to keep it."

"I know." I ruffle his mane again. "We will check the basket and eat their food if they left some, yes?"

His expression brightens. "To teach them a lesson?"

I chuckle. "Exactly."

Pak's little tail swishes back and forth happily, and he skips down the beach ahead of me, the egg still clutched in his hand. Maybe when we get to our new home—wherever it will be—I will let him paint eggs. It seems a silly thing to do, but he is so delighted with this one and I do not want to deprive him of all the things that make him happy. If throwing a few splotches of paint on the shell of an egg brings him such joy, we will do so, also.

I am lost in thought, my mind occupied with all the things we must do if we are to leave. Perhaps that is why I do not notice that the female waits by the basket, smiling brightly at us.

5

JUTH

P ak immediately grows shy, racing back to my side and clutching my hand, the egg tight in his other. "She was hiding, Papa. Do you think she was waiting to say a greeting to us?"

I scowl at the female, watching her. I do not like that she has tricked us. Perhaps she hid behind the rocks, waiting for us to arrive so she can babble more of her words at us and try to entice us into giving up the rules we live by.

It is the soft female, the one whose scent is all over the basket every time we check it. I wait for her to speak, but she only touches her mouth and shakes her head, indicating she will not. She knows we are not to speak to her, then. At least she understands the rules if the others do not. I watch her, wary, and keep my hand tight on Pak.

She thinks for a moment, licking her lips, and I notice that her tongue is bright pink as it darts out to swipe at her mouth. I do not know why that fascinates me so, or that her lips look soft and inviting. Her mane blows in the wind and she pushes it behind her ears, then gestures at the basket, tapping at it. Then she points at us and smiles, a look of excitement in her eyes.

I push Pak behind me, but he is silent. He knows he is not to talk to her.

The excitement in her eyes dies a little. She does not give up, though. Instead, she takes the basket and pulls out something that is wrapped in a soft, supple leather. Carefully, she peels the leather back, revealing what is cradled carefully inside—two more of the decorated eggs.

Pak's little hand squeezes mine tightly.

She looks at us, uncertain, and indicates that they are for us. When we do not move toward her, she gently sets the eggs down on the rock and makes an “eating” pantomime with her hands. They are food.

"Papa?" Pak whispers.

It is on the tip of my tongue to say no. That we do not need their food. That we do not need their eggs or their colors or anything from them. But my stomach growls, and I am reminded we have caught nothing this day. That our bellies are empty, and however hungry I am, Pak will be much, much hungrier.

Perhaps I am weak, because I do not like the thought of my small son going to bed with an empty belly, not when there is food nearby. I turn my back to the female and crouch down in front of Pak, looking him in the eye.

"You may go eat one," I say softly. "Just one for now. We will save the others for later."

His face blossoms with delight and he nods. Shyly, he peeks around my legs back at the female, who still waits by the rock. She smiles, all bright square teeth and pink mouth, and gestures at the food. Pak's tail flicks and then he trots forward, setting his egg down by the others. He admires the colors, as if trying to decide which one to eat. I fight back a smile. They will all taste like egg inside anyhow. Finally he selects one, then taps it carefully against the rock and raises it to his mouth to suck free of the shell. Wonder frames his face and he looks over at me in surprise. "Papa, it's hard!"

"Bohl," the female blurts out.

Pak skitters back to me, uncertain.

She clasps a hand over her mouth, grimacing, and it is clear she did not mean to speak. Watching us, she picks up one of the decorated eggs, then taps it lightly against the smooth surface of the rock, cracking the shell in a dozen spots. She raises it high again, showing us, and then begins to peel the shell off, revealing a smooth, white shape underneath. She takes a tiny bite and then holds the rest out to me, waiting.

She is showing us how to eat it.

Pak tugs on my belt. "That one must be for you, Papa," he whispers.

"Hsst." We do not speak to the other clans. That is one of the rules. Pak gives my hip a pat, indicating he understands. I stare at the female, eyes narrowed, and watch her.

She simply continues to hold the egg out, waiting. I do not know what to do. I am hungry, but if I take it, will she think we are suddenly in their clan? Will she fling more food at us?

Is that such a bad thing, my empty belly asks.

Because an egg cannot be put back in its shell, it seems wasteful to leave it. I take a step forward, Pak clinging to my thigh, and then another. Her expression brightens, but she does not move. She remains still, her mouth pursed as if she is determined to stop words from spilling out.

I take the egg from her and shove it into my mouth whole. It is thick and gummy this way, but…still delicious.

Her hands go to her teats—no, her heart—and she clasps them over it. "Steff," she tells me, tapping her chest. "Steff."

Her name.

She has an Outcast name.

STEPH

When an unexpected smile creases Juth's hard face, I feel as if I've done the right thing. I'm glad I decided to return after dropping off things this morning and bring a second round of treats for his kid. Pak clings to his father's leg, but his little stubby tail flutters back and forth with excitement, reminding me of a deer fawn. He clutches his egg tightly in one hand and holds onto his father with his other.

I feel good. Warm. I smile at both of them, and for the first time, I feel like Juth doesn't hate me. I've only seen him a few times, all of them from a distance. He always glares when I put stuff down, as if he disapproves. It's so odd, because they used to take the items we gave them every time. Lately though, they've been leaving them behind. I don't understand it, and I want to understand. I need to understand.

It's my thing, getting to understand people. And I've made it a personal goal to bring the two outcasts into the fold, to welcome them to our small village. I just didn't think it would take me months and months to do so. Juth is a stubborn one, though.

Today, though, I feel like we've made a breakthrough.

I smile at him and touch my chest again. "Steph." I gesture at him, indicating I want to know his name, too. I know Outcast clan say that it's against the rules for them to speak to the other clans, but surely that's gone by the wayside. Surely this is a sign of progress. Surely—

Juth's eyes narrow at me. He grabs Pak by the hand and turns around, hauling him back down the beach.

I must have pushed too hard. Disappointed, I watch them go, and I snack on the egg left behind, since it won't keep. I want to chase after them and give them the egg I'm forcing myself to eat, but I know they need their space. They need their space, and they need me to respect their customs. Maybe telling them my name pushed too far. Pak glances back at me as they walk, clutching his egg, and I smile and wave at him, trying not to show my disappointment.

There's always tomorrow.

I watch Juth as he walks away, too. This was my first close-up look at Juth, and he's fascinating. His skin has that same strange cast to it that the islanders do. It's not quite the same blue that the sa-khui have, but a lighter, almost luminescent shade that means that they can camouflage to fit in with their surroundings. Unlike the others, though, Juth has no horns to speak of. His dark hair is thick and wild like the others, his brow heavily plated, but…no horns. Not much of a tail, either. Unlike Pak's fuzzy little stump, his is a nub just above his buttocks, devoid of fur. I do notice it flicks when he walks, as if conveying irritation, and I bite back a smile at that. I think his parents must have come from Shadow Cat, though—he's got the thick arm and leg fur like them, and the prominent fangs.

And the scowl. Can't forget that. The attitude is very Shadow Cat clan.

Because he was wearing nothing but a woven belt, I got a good look at…everything. A bit of heat touches my cheeks, because I tried really, really hard not to stare at Juth's genitals. My interest in him is purely that of a therapist, I remind myself. Another person I want to help. It's just that…well. His dick was so…thick. It's not as big as some of the others I've seen—the islanders are very quick to undress for practically no reason at all, and Ashtar the drakoni is extremely proud of his naked form—but it's probably the thickest, with an utterly insane number of ridges climbing along the top, an equally fat spur and a heavy pair of balls. I'm pretty sure most therapists don't notice their patients balls but…they were just right there. It was hard not to look. When he turned away, it presented me with a new problem, because Juth also has a very fine, tight ass with a scar going across one butt cheek.

I might stare at that scar for far too long, in an absolutely unprofessional capacity. I remain where I am and watch until they disappear down the rocky beach. I should be thinking about the best way to make them comfortable and how to approach them properly. Instead, I keep thinking about that butt scar. And his cock. And the ridges. And the spur. Flustered, I shake my head to clear it. This is not like me. I don't lust after bodies. I lust after minds.

Maybe it's because he's a puzzle and I'm trying to figure him out.

Maybe it's because I haven't had sex in over a year.

Maybe it's that he's a project and my stupid heart loves a rescue project. Whatever it is, I'm just as obsessed with Juth and his son as I was when they first appeared. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I've made progress. He smiled at me. Before he practically dragged Pak away, Juth smiled at me. I don't know if he's ever smiled at anyone.

It just fuels my determination. I'll be back tomorrow, I decide, with new things for the basket and a new plan of attack. Even if it takes all day for them to stop by—or several days—I'm prepared to wait it out. I'll bring my sewing and I'll just…wait.

Pleased at the thought, I'm practically floating as I make my way back to camp.

6

STEPH

T  he next morning, I prep a basket for my two favorite Outcasts. I do this every morning, but today I try to think of things that are a little different from ordinary. I'd love to bring them some of the hot soup bubbling over the fire, courtesy of a very pregnant Willa and her hovering mate, but it won't stay warm and there's nothing worse than cold soup. I do tuck in a few of the coffee-like shellfish we use in our tea, and a few tea leaves in a packet, just in case they make tea when no one is around. There's a couple of whole fish drying on racks, courtesy of Nadine and Thrand, and I take one of those, too. It's been smoked to the point that it feels a bit papery, as if it'll splinter if I tap it against a rock, but it keeps nicely and doesn't taste too bad. I'm still a little squeamish that people here eat the entire fish—head, fins, and all—once the scales have been scraped, but I'm getting better about it.

I add in the pair of boots I was working on for I'rec, because he'll never know I gave this pair away first and I think Juth needs them more. I obsessed last night as I lay in my furs in the women's cave, listening to Sam and Flor chitchat about babies and what Willa's particular baby is going to look like or when it'll come. Babies made me think of Juth, with his son. Did he have a mate in the past? He must have, if Pak is his son. Didn't someone say they weren't related by blood, though? Or was that just a misinterpretation? Or am I just hoping because I keep thinking about Juth naked and wondering if I should make him pants?

As the ice planet's quasi-therapist, I'm well aware of my own issues. I'm not good with boundaries. I fall in love with people that need someone, and I love a project. I fully realize that Juth and his son are my latest “project” and one of the reasons I'm obsessed with them is because I feel like they need me. I know this boils back to my childhood—because what doesn't—and it's something I should work on. And I will.

But right now they need me to befriend them. I'm sure the obsession will fade once they join the tribe and no longer feed that part of me that needs to save them. I finish filling the day's basket and put a lid on it, wondering if I should head out early.

Sam sits down by the fire, sharpening the point of a spear. I immediately go on alert, because she's sitting alone. This could be my chance to open her up in conversation. To get her to talk to me about some deeper stuff. To break the ice and let her know I'm here to listen. Of all the tribe, Sam's the most remote. She's pleasant to be around, and sweet, and cheerful. She seems happy. But she likes to go off by herself, and she never, ever really shares about her past. It pings my “trauma” radar something fierce, and I know there's something she's buried.

Before I can oh-so-casually go and sit next to Sam, though, Daisy intercepts me. She pauses me, a hand out. "Wait. I need your help."

Magic words. "What's up?"

She shoves a square piece of metal sheeting stolen from Mardok's project cave into my hands. "Can you hold this steady for me?"

I examine it, curious, and she maneuvers my hands until I'm holding the metal directly in front of my chest. Then, she hunches over, her face close to the metal, and runs a soot-covered stick along her lashes. "Let me tell you," Daisy says in a low voice as she darkens her lashes. "It is hell trying to find a good mirror here. If I'd have known, I'd have brought one. I mean, what kind of place doesn't have mirrors, you know?"

"A planet with a hunter-gatherer society?" I offer helpfully.

Daisy runs the stick over her other eye's lashes and then studies her reflection in the “mirror.” "I guess I didn't realize things were quite so primeval. Ugh, god, look at my skin. I look like a handbag. This air is so dry." She touches her cheek, letting out a whimper. "I have to go lotion up again. I'm positively ruddy."

She looks so dismayed and sounds so…shallow. "As a friend, Daisy, can I ask…do you really think constant lotioning and putting on eye makeup is the best use of your time?"

"Yes." Her answer is immediate. She studies her reflection for a bit longer, touching her cheek and then brushing a finger along her nose. "Do I look like I'm freckling to you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Again, yes." Daisy decides to take this time to fluff her hair, working one of her curls into a perfect spiral with her fingers.

I glance over at Sam, torn. This could be my opportunity to talk to her, but I'm also not making much headway with Daisy, who also needs a firm discussion about tribal productivity and how everyone puts in their fair share. I know that Daisy has been trained by her life as someone else's pampered pretend lover, but this really is getting to be a bit much. Others might not be as polite about her…priorities as I am.

Before I can say anything, though, Farli appears, her shaggy dvisti at her side, and Sam gets to her feet. "There you are," Farli says. "Ready to hunt?"

Sam nods, reaching over to scratch at Chompy's long, fuzzy jaw. "Is he coming with us?"

Farli chuckles. "Of course. We will not go far. Mardok will worry if we do." She winks and rubs her belly, which is slightly rounded despite the fact that she's been pregnant for longer than both Willa and Angie and even Elly. Nadine's belly is getting rather huge too, though she's not nearly as big as the others, and she hasn't slowed down in the slightest.

So many babies all at once. So many resonances and then…nothing. It's been a long, quiet six months. I know it bothers the unmated members of Shadow Cat clan. They look at A'tam and U'dron with intense envy and tease them a lot, but I know behind the teasing both O'jek and I'rec are jealous. I know R'jaal of Tall Horn practically wilts every time he sees another happy couple together, which is impossible to get away from lately. Poor guy. I add him to my mental list of people to sit and have a nice chat with.

Sam and Farli walk away, chatting, and I bite back the urge to shove Daisy's soot-stick up her nose or something childish. So much for that. "I guess I won't talk to Sam today."

"So you can fix her?" Daisy chuckles, licking a finger and smoothing her eyebrows. "You can't fix all of our hidden traumas, Steph."

I watch Daisy with newfound respect. Not only does she know what I'm up to, but there's more underneath the surface than I thought. I'd forgotten that under that pretty exterior, Daisy's spent a decade at a near-royal court and knows a lot about watching people. "You think there's hidden trauma?"

Daisy straightens, giving a toss of her lovely red-gold hair. "Of course. Everyone has some sort of secret tragedy they are burying deep. Some are bigger than others, but we've all got something in our past that leaves a nasty scar."

Interesting. Maybe this is the breakthrough with Daisy I need. "What's yours?" I ask boldly, since she seems to be in a chatty mood today.

She winks, all smiles. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to share that just yet. What's yours? Does it have to do with the whole ‘waiting for resonance’ thing?"

So she heard about that, too? I guess everyone knows. Doesn’t matter. Perhaps she'll share if I confess something of mine. "Well…promise not to say?"

"Of course not." Her expression is genuine. "I might not be the brightest girl on this beach, but I can keep a secret."

Interesting that she would denigrate her intelligence while praising another quality. I just make a soft noise in my throat—neither agreement or disagreement, just acknowledgment of her words—and hold the mirror back out to her. She takes it and we head away from the fire so we can talk privately. I pick up my basket and we head for the water's edge. When we're closer to the shore, I glance over at her. "I guess my most recent trauma is that when I first got here, I had a crush on someone. It was…unrequited."

"Steph!" she exclaims. "You never said!"

"What am I going to say?" I laugh. "We're a small community. There's no sense in making everyone uncomfortable." I shrug, the basket resting on my hip. "Besides, it faded pretty fast once I realized it would never be requited. You can't love in a vacuum."

Daisy's expression grows stark. There's a flash of pain on her face, and then she smiles, all brightness again. "No, you certainly cannot." She nudges me with her shoulder. "So who was it? A male that resonated to someone else?"

This is the part where it gets a little tricky to navigate. Is she going to be offended if I tell her the truth? But I also don't want to lie. I opt for the truth, deciding to lay it all open. "A woman, actually."

Her brows furrow and then a look of sympathy crosses her face. "I didn't realize anyone here was gay."

And now time for even more explaining. "I'm not exactly gay. I'm bisexual. I just…like people." I shrug. "The gender doesn't particularly matter to me. I've dated both men and women in the past."

She nods enthusiastically. "My old master was gay and it was very frowned upon in his culture. It made him sad to have to hide who he was." Her expression grows soft and she impulsively flings her arms around me. "Oh, Steph. I'm so sorry."

Her hug nearly makes me drop the basket. I quickly regroup, juggling it against my hip. "About…me being bi?"

Daisy pulls back, laughing. "No, silly. About having your love be unrequited. Can I ask who it was? Did they resonate? Is this why you’re so adamant about waiting for resonance? Shall I guess who it is?"

I wince a little, because this is the part where it gets uncomfortable for me. "Let's just leave it that it was unrequited, all right? She has no idea." And I don't want to tell Daisy, in case she gets it in her head that she should be matchmaker…because the person I had the crush on is absolutely not mated. Flor has no idea that I went to bed every night hoping to spend time with her the next day. She has no idea I mooned over her and sought out reasons to be near her in those early days. She was pretty and vivacious and smart, and I love those things in a partner. Add in the fact that Flor was clearly desperate to be needed and struggling to find happiness in this place and, well, those were all things I love in a partner.

But after a round of spin the bottle, Flor also made it really clear she didn't like women. I remember when the bottle turned on Penny and my heart hammered, wondering if she was going to reach over and kiss her and confirm that maybe I wasn't the only one on the beach that also liked girls. Instead, she'd made a face and said she was straight and demanded they spin again.

Nothing wrong with being straight. I respect that. So I kept my crush to myself, gave her a little distance, and went on with my life. Over time, the crush faded, and while I still want to help her with her need to fit in and I tend to blush around her, I'm okay with us just being friends.

Daisy nods understanding. "Right. A secret trauma. I get it now." She tilts her head, thinking for a moment. "It's interesting, you know. Do you suppose the aliens deliberately looked for straight people when they hunted slaves? Or is it just luck that everyone here is pretty much…" She pops her lips and makes a zooming motion with her hand. "You know, straight as an arrow?"

"Or they're not and just hiding it because it's expected that we should all be straight? Since the khui chooses?"

Daisy considers this. "I think they pick straight people. Imagine how awkward it would be to buy a slave and tell them to suck your dick and they vomit?" Her eyes widen. "Do you think they send them back if they vomit?"

I'm guessing that the slaves have a lot more on their minds if they're being asked to suck a stranger's dick than their sexuality. "I really can't speculate, Daisy. And we probably shouldn't, because if someone else here isn't straight, maybe they're not ready to come out?"

Her hand goes to her mouth. "Oh, of course not. I didn't realize. I won't say a thing."

I decide it's time to turn the subject. "You could always tell me about your personal trauma, since I shared mine with you."

"I could," she says lightly, gazing out at the rolling waves. "But then I’m just encouraging you to psychoanalyze me and you already do that far too much.”

Mmm, she’s not wrong about that.

“I love hearing more about you,” Daisy continues. “Since you're no longer messed up on the girl and you're bisexual, does that mean you have your eye on anyone in particular? Are you wanting to resonate? Or are you hoping one of the other ladies—or myself!—gets passed over and you two just sort of drift together?"

I'm starting to regret telling her. "I'm really not sure…"

She takes my arm and steers me gently toward the water, aiming my gaze at a distant man who stands on the shore, alone. "Perhaps R'jaal? He strikes me as very lonely, you know."

Well, this is a nightmare. Now Daisy's playing matchmaker. I try not to grimace as we both watch R'jaal. He stands in the shallows, leaning on his spear. I thought he was fishing in the tide pools, but it becomes very obvious that he's actually watching Flor and Sessah, who are throwing nets a bit farther out. Or rather, Sessah is throwing them and Flor is standing atop a rock and shouting encouragement. They're both laughing and having a great time, and…

I guess I'm not the only one that was nursing a crush on bright, vivacious Flordeliza.

"Or what about O'jek?" Daisy asks. "He's truly a lovely sort once you get past that prickly exterior. Very sweet and giving. And thoughtful, too. He's such a good man."

That's…effusive. I try to conjure up a mental image of the alien man receiving all the praise. My experiences with O'jek are that he's abrupt, surly, and his favorite facial expression is a scowl. He's not the handsomest of aliens, absolutely not the friendliest, and I'm surprised that Daisy thinks so highly of him.

Then again, maybe everyone's sweet to you when you're beautiful. I don't have that going for me, either. After a year of being here, I'm still rather squat and round—there's probably some sort of plump peasant in my ancestry that makes this the case—and I'm unexciting to look at. Daisy probably gets the star treatment from O'jek because she's pretty and flirty.

"You must have someone in mind," Daisy continues. "Someone that's caught your eye?"

For some reason, my brain immediately presents me with a mental image of Juth's enormous balls. "Uh, no one," I manage to choke out. "No one in the tribe."

Daisy's like a dog with a bone. She squeezes my arm tight. "The Outcast, then? He could be hot if we did something about that hair, perhaps. And you know he's a good father, so that's something at least."

"Daisy." I try to extract myself from her clinging grip. "I'm not in love with anyone. I promise. Not the Outcast, either. I don't know him well enough."

Her eyes gleam. "But you're going to fix that, right? Do you need help? I'm an excellent matchmaker."

Now she's getting on my nerves. "I'm not interested in being matched up with anyone. And since we're talking frankly, can I give you a word of advice? Friend to friend? You really need to do more around the camp than just look pretty."

She smiles, her expression ever-so-slightly sad. "I'm afraid 'pretty' is all I've got to offer."

7

JUTH

T  he next morning, the shore looks distinctly greasy. The water has a strange residue on the waves as they roll in, and the shells of small, reddish creatures are so plentiful that the entire beach looks speckled with bright red snow.

This has something to do with the fish that are disappearing, I suspect. Pak races along the sand, picking up one after another, but most of them are dead. When he finds one that is alive, he brings it to me and we both stare at the wriggling legs of the small, shellfish-like creature. The crabs that crawl along the sands eat them, but there are so very many that they can feast all day and not finish them all.

"Should we try eating them, Papa?" Pak asks. Other than the painted eggs brought by the female, we ate nothing again last night. I know Pak is hungry—my stomach is painfully empty, and I am at the point that I might go to the clan and demand food for my small son. He should not be hungry like this.

I gingerly raise the creature to my mouth. It looks disgusting, all legs and small, hard red shell, but if they will fill an empty belly… I push it into my mouth and chew before I can think twice about it. Something wet bursts between my teeth the moment I crunch down, followed by an acrid taste that makes me spit the remains on the ground. I open my mouth to tell Pak that it is not for eating when suddenly, my mouth burns with heat, as if the elders' fire is licking directly against my tongue. With a grunt of pain, I race to the water's edge and splash seawater into my mouth until it no longer burns. "Not for eating," I rasp at Pak, grateful I did not swallow that. I cannot imagine how it would burn inside my gut. "Definitely not for eating."

He giggles at me, touching the corner of my mouth. "Your lips are all swollen and funny."

I make a face at him, and he giggles even more. "Let us go to the basket and see if they have brought us food, then." His eyes light up with excitement, and I add, "This is not to be an ongoing thing. Remember that."

"I know, Papa." He takes my hand and walks at my side, practically skipping with excitement as we head for the rock.

Something about the red creatures bothers me. For some reason, my mind casts back to stories from Haal, the oldest of Outcast clan. Her parents were outcasts, too, and she told stories of things they remembered, things to watch for.

And I remember that a red beach was one of them. I don't remember exactly why…just that it is bad. That we must be on our guard. That we must leave this area immediately and not return for a while. I vaguely remember stories of such things, of being forced to leave home for a full turn of the moon before it is “safe” again.

It just reinforces the fact that Pak and I should go. There are no fish to eat. There are strange, slimy creatures making the beach oily and dangerous. The other clans are far too near. There is no reason for us to stay.

So…why have we not gone yet?

I have no answer. Tonight, then. We will leave tonight.

When we get to the basket, I am not entirely surprised to see the red-maned female waiting for us. The one with the Outcast name. She gets to her feet, smiling at us when we approach, and for some reason…her pleasure at our arrival warms me. No one is ever glad to see Outcast clan. Does this female not understand who we are?

Pak gives her a happy little wave, but he is not speaking, so I let it go. He squeezes my fingers with excitement, however, as if he wishes to see what she brought and is forcing himself to hold back.

The female bites her pink lip and then sets down the leathers in her hands. Sewing, I think. She places it carefully on the rock and then indicates the basket. She takes a step back, that eagerness all over her face, and it is clear she wants us to take the basket.

I release Pak's hand and nudge him, a silent indication he is free to do so.

My son immediately darts forward, all excitement. He clambers onto the rock, tail fluttering wildly, and pulls the lid off the basket. The female smiles broader, her hands clasped in front of her teats, and she watches him with an expression of pleased adoration. She is smart to like Pak, I decide. He is a clever one, my son, and his smiles are precious things.

Pak gasps and then holds up a dried fish, showing it to me with excitement. More food, then. I nod at him in approval, and my son takes it as a cue to eat. He immediately shoves the head of the thing in his mouth, crunching down, and dried fish bits fly everywhere.

I chuckle at the sight. He is showing Outcast clan poorly. We do not eat like animals, even if we want to.

The female gasps in surprise at my son's actions, then giggles, her hand going to her mouth as if to silence herself. Her gaze flicks to mine and I am utterly entranced. The laughter…her laughter…I like it. Almost as much as I like her shining eyes. I watch her for a moment and wonder if it would be so bad to try to talk to her.

She has an Outcast name, after all. Steff.

Maybe not words, then. Maybe gestures. Pak continues to shove great bites of the fish into his mouth, smacking his lips greedily as he digs through the basket. The female looks at me again, and I give her a small nod. It is both thanks and approval. I am glad she has fed my son this day since I cannot.

Her smile widens, and her gaze darts between the basket and me, as if she is trying to consider something else to “say.” After a moment, she gestures at the fish in Pak's hand, and then at me, raising one of her brows in my direction.

I hold my hand up and give a small shake of my head. I would much rather my son eat. I will find something to scrounge for myself.

Pak pulls out a leather-wrapped bundle and holds it out to me. I take it from him and unwrap it. More leaves, and a few of the hard-shelled shrimps that are common in the tide pools. The female gestures that I should take the shrimp and put them in my mouth. When I toss the entire handful into my mouth and eat them, her expression falters and she makes a soft noise of distress.

Did she not want me to eat them? Why did she gesture at my mouth, then?

She shakes her head, indicating that it is not important, and then moves to sit down on the rock next to Pak. As she does, her foot slips on the oily beach, and she falls.

I reach forward and grab her before she can hit the ground.

The female clings to my arm as she tries to find purchase with her feet, and her scrabbling forces me to take another step forward. I haul her up against me, pulling her upright, and her body brushes against mine.

She is…soft all over. This should not be surprising. I know from her appearance that she is soft. She wears thick furs all over her body. Of course she is soft. What is surprising is that she is warm against my skin. That she smells good this close, like smoke and skin and a fascinating female scent that I already want more of. She gazes up at me, and she barely reaches my shoulder.

But…I like her size. I like a lot of things about her. And my cock tightens in response.

Our eyes meet and she gives me another smile, reaching out and gently patting my chest as if to thank me for rescuing her. I want to keep holding her, but when she takes a step back, I suspect I must be the only one. My face grows hot with embarrassment at that. Of course she does not want to be touched by me. I am an Outcast. I am not a good male, and the beaches are full of males who still yearn for a mate.

She is an attractive female with an incredible scent. She could have any male she wishes. Of course she does not want my touch.

As she draws away, she makes a soft noise in her throat and gestures at the basket. As I watch, she sits down next to Pak and pulls something out. A boot, then another. She holds them out to me, and I see they are not sized for Pak, but for someone like me.

Almost all of the clothing gifts so far have been for Pak. It feels important that she brought these for me, that she made them for me. I do not know that I have ever had something just for me. Even the belt I wear, the stone knife I use, all of those once belonged to Nen. They have given us cloaks and tunics in the past, but those always smelled of others who had used them before us. These boots are new.

My feet will be the only feet in them.

The female—Steff—holds them up to me with a hopeful expression on her face. I take them with a grunt, since it seems rude to discard them like we have so many other gifts. I do not need them. My feet are strong and callused and grip far more easily than if I wear leather over them…but it does not mean I do not want them. I clutch them to my chest, breathing in her scent. It is all over them. I suspect she made them, and that…pleases me.

Greatly.

She smiles at me, happy that her gift is accepted, and reaches over to ruffle Pak's fuzzy mane. He grins up at her, his mouth full of dried fish. My stomach growls, loud enough for both of us to hear, and her expression grows contrite. She looks at me, worried, and back at the fish.

I hate my body for making me seem weak in front of her. With a growl, I gesture for Pak. It is time to go. Hunger can be ignored, and I do not want this female to feel as if we cannot take care of ourselves. The thought is shameful.

"Oh," she breathes, and rises to her feet as if to stop us. Her boots skid on the sand again.

Once more, I reach out and grasp her arm, helping her up. I did not realize how slick the beach was here, and it feels warm under my toes. I did not notice, because back home, the beach sands were always warm. The reddish creatures are far more concentrated here, and when I look down the shore, to the small village in the distance, everything looks tinged with red.

The elders warning rings in my ears. Frowning, I continue to grip her arm. I need to warn her.

I think for a minute and then gesture at the ground. She watches me, curious. I shake my head, indicating the sand is bad, and gesture at the distant hills. She needs to go there, to go into the mountains. Away from the water.

"Tellmehoutlowd," she breathes, her voice soft. "Iwill hunderstanchou. Haffatraslater." She taps her ear, then searches my face with her gaze. "Plees."

I shake my head at her. I do not speak her words. I gesture at the mountains again. She needs to leave the beach.

If she understands me, she does not show it. Instead, she puts her hand gently on my chest, over my heart. "Juth." My name is soft on her lips, almost a caress, and my cock responds again. Her fingers brush over my skin, and then she gestures at herself. "Steff."

She does not understand my warning. Frustrated, I take a deep breath, trying to think of a gesture that will indicate that she must leave. But she only touches my chest again, and her scent is in my nose and…

I cannot leave. Not if she stays and puts herself in danger.

8

STEPH

"T  hese things are so gross," Penny complains, lifting one foot and grimacing at the slick grease on the sole of her boot. "Seriously, they're everywhere."

"Maybe they're this planet's version of sand fleas?" Willa offers, leaning back against Gren. She looks tired, perched between her mate's thighs on a rock as he acts as a chair for her. Her hands are on her belly, and so are Gren's. They look cute and cuddly, and I'm absolutely envious of them and how settled they seem together. They never come to my therapy suggestions, no matter how often I bring it up, just because they're perfectly in sync with each other already. Some people are like that, which is nice. Vordis and Angie are another pair that seem consistently on the same page. It makes me happy for them, even if I am curious about the inner workings of their minds.

The biggest secret of therapists, I suppose, is that we're nosy…though I'm not sure it's a secret.

"What does Devi say?" Hannah asks, getting a bowl of stew. "She's the expert on the wildlife, right?" She picks her way across the slick sand and sits down next to Lauren. Both of their mates have gone out hunting, since the fishing has dried up recently.

Lauren shakes her head, grimacing. "Something about migratory patterns and excreting and chemical reactions. It was before breakfast so I tuned out, because it was making my stomach lurch. But she says they're why the sand feels warmer lately, and why the fish are gone. They don't like the temperature change."

Well, that explains that. I think about Pak and Juth. Did they seem thinner the last time I saw them? I remember how quickly Pak snatched up the dried fish and ate it, and Juth's stomach growling, and I start to fret. "How are we on food?" I ask, trying to be oh-so-casual about it. "Are we low?"

Hannah snorts. "We are the opposite of low. Everyone got so bored of staying home over the brutal season that we're swimming in dried fish. I swear we have an entire hut that's nothing but fish. Smoked fish. Dried fish. Fish jerky. Fish strips."

"Fish heads," Willa chimes in. "Fish eyes."

"Please, guys." Lauren holds her stomach. "I'm trying to keep my breakfast down."

I purse my lips and then decide to plunge ahead with my request. "Do you think anyone would mind if I brought a big chunk of dried fish to Pak and Juth? I think they're hungry, but I don't want to take away from the tribe."

Everyone's attention turns to me. Willa sits up straighter, a sad look of sympathy on her face. "Of course you can. The food is for everyone in the tribe. Just because they don't sit with us doesn't mean they're not part of our family."

Her gentle, understanding words make my eyes prick with tears of relief.

"Well, I'm in charge of supplies and I say they are more than welcome to some of them," Hannah agrees, all bossiness. "You want me to help you prepare a basket for them? We can fix them up right away and no one needs to be hungry."

Lauren studies me. "I thought they were refusing your gifts?"

"They were, for a while," I agree. "But lately they've been taking all the food, and…" I shrug. As much as I love gossiping as much as anyone, I also want to respect Pak and Juth's privacy. "I think it would be appreciated by them, and Pak is small and can't be much help hunting wise. I also don't think they go into the mountains to hunt like our tribe does. I've never seen Juth with shoes on."

"Shall I hunt with them?" Gren asks, voice low and gravelly.

I smile at him. He's absolutely terrifying to look at, but he's been opening up ever since he mated to Willa. She's his most ardent champion, and they tend to stick to each other's side. Something tells me he doesn't want to leave her, especially not with her so pregnant, but it's nice of him to offer. "I think maybe if we just give them some of our supplies it'll set them on their feet."

Hannah sets aside her food bowl and gets to her feet. She wobbles slightly on the slick sand and then gives me a triumphant look when she manages to stay on balance. "Come on. Let's go talk to Raahosh and see if he's fine with it. I bet he is. Aayla's about Pak's size, and I doubt he'd want her to go hungry."

TO MY RELIEF, Raahosh and Liz absolutely agree we should share our food with the two Outcasts. I want to hug them both with gratitude, but Raahosh has their baby in his arms, so I settle for squeezing Liz twice, instead. Raahosh also has the practical suggestion that I bring only what can easily be carried, and I think that's an excellent idea, since I've looked and looked and Pak and Juth don't seem to have a permanent home of any kind. If they do, it's well hidden. Me showing up with an absolute truckload of dried fish would look super obvious and I don't want to infringe on Juth's feelings…but I do want to feed them.

I'll figure out how to balance it somehow.

I pack a basket with a castoff child-sized blanket that Liz offers, and then I stuff it full of dried fish and root vegetables. I figure I can bring a large portion to get them started, and then from there, just supplement them until the fish start showing up regularly again. Once my basket is sufficiently heavy with supplies, I see Devi on the beach with N'dek and head over to them.

Devi has one of the tiny shrimp-like things held up on a stick, and she peers at it. The thing is inches away from her eyes, and N'dek's head is bent close with hers, as if they're lab partners studying a particularly interesting specimen.

"Look at the legs on this one," N'dek says.

She makes an excited sound. "You're right. Good eye! It's not a juvenile either! I bet they're all adults, but I don't think they're breeding. It's so odd."

"Hi there," I say brightly. "You guys know what's causing this shrimp plague? And how long it'll stick around?"

Devi's eyes light up with enthusiasm and then she launches into a really long winded narrative that involves a lot of scientific words that go right over my head, and I'm close to my college degree. When I blink at her, she gives a self-conscious little laugh. "It's a migration," she tells me. "Once they've finished here, they'll move on."

That's all I need to know. "How long do you think that will be?"

"Depends on what they're getting from this situation," she says, and I can tell she's trying to keep it simple for my sake. "What are they eating? Why are they beaching themselves and excreting an exothermic chemical before they die?"

"Exothermic?" I ask, trying to keep my tone polite and interested. "You mean…the heat?"

"Yup. There's some sort of chemical that's reacting either with the shore or the water, or they're producing it. It's the slime, basically. I don't know if it's a by-product of what they're eating or if it's from the decay of their bodies. I wish I had a microscope so I could do more studying. It's so exciting." Her expression grows wistful.

Ugh, I really hope all this slick stuff on the beach isn't a by-product of rotting shrimp that are coming here to die. "So we don't know how long this will last? It's making the fish leave."

"Right, which is another fascinating thing. Back on Earth, when there were locust plagues, everything in the local wildlife food chain ate the locusts—other insects, birds, small vermin—but because these are giving off the hot juice, so to speak, no one's eating them. There has to be an evolutionary reason behind both their migration and the chemical. I just don't know what." Her expression grows distant, the wheels in her mind turning. She turns and clasps her mate's bicep, causing him to drop the stick-and-shrimp he was holding. "This is SO EXCITING!"

I chuckle, because at least someone is excited about this mess. I just hope the beach stops being slippery and the fish come back.

Which reminds me…I need to take my food to the regular meeting spot. My heart thumps at the thought, because I'm making such progress with Pak and Juth. Juth, especially. He tried to talk to me yesterday. He kept motioning about the beach, and I suspected he was telling me to be careful.

When I slipped, he caught me. Twice. Just hauled me up against his big, naked body like I was nothing at all. I've always been a stout, heavy-set girl. To be lifted up against someone like I weigh nothing? I'm a fan. A real big fan. I could tell he was fascinated by me, too. He kept staring, his nostrils flaring as if there was something in my scent he'd picked up. And when he'd let me go…I noticed his cock was starting to get hard. Not a full-on erection, but it had definitely grown.

I've been thinking about that a lot since yesterday. It's probably because he's big and strong and I haven't been laid in over a year. It's also probably because he “needs” me and I fucking love to feel needed. He's a mystery. A big, loincloth-less mystery that I'm dying to figure out. That's why I'm attracted.

I imagine once he doesn't need me anymore, the feelings will fade. I'll go back to my usual cheerfully asexual state, waiting for another crush to hit me.

Or resonance.

Oh wow, I didn't even think about resonance. I blanch at the thought. I wonder if I haven't resonated because I've been more attracted to the women here than the men up until I met Juth? It's just…I'm sure they're all very nice men. R'jaal doesn't attract me, Sessah's too young. I'rec is far too abrasive for someone like me, and O'jek avoids me…and actually, most of the tribe. I think he's just a solitary, private sort, which doesn't do well with my need to be in everyone's business. I get along with all the women, and I guess if we don't resonate, maybe someone will decide to take a pleasure mate.

Which is kind of funny, actually. Both the sa-khui and the islanders were fine with pleasure mates once upon a time. Now, though, if a woman so much as looks in their direction, they assume it's their mate and she's their property. It happened with Bridget and A'tam, and it was such a mess that it's scared the rest of us into enforced celibacy.

I wouldn't mind getting to know someone. I wouldn't mind a lover and a relationship. Lord knows it can get lonely here sometimes. But no one here has quite hit all my buttons since I crushed on Flor, and knowing that she was straight pretty much killed that crush.

I do like Juth's smile, though. I wouldn't mind seeing more of it.

I carry the basket to the decorated rock and sit down next to it. I don't think they'll avoid doing a pick-up if I'm here. I think we're past that. I hope we're past that. I want to see them. I want to see their faces when they see the food I brought, but more than that, I want to try and talk to Juth again. I want to see if he and Pak will really talk to me if we become friends. Maybe, maybe I can eventually talk them into coming to sit with the tribe for a while. It doesn't have to be a long time. I just want them to realize that we are their friends. That we're all in this together and old designations like “Outcast” no longer apply.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. One thing at a time.

9

JUTH

I t is far too still the next morning.

It bothers me. More than my empty belly, more than the empty waters or Pak's whining about walking the shore to look for food, something about this day feels…off. Wrong.

I do not like it.

I watch the waters, looking for hints of a problem, but the waves roll in as slowly and regularly as they always do.

Other than the red shrimps that cover the sands, everything looks the same as it always does. Perhaps I am worrying too much. I tell myself that it is because of my father's stories, and the fact that we are hungry. Still, my senses prickle and remain on alert.

"Papa," Pak says in a small voice. He tugs on my hand to get my attention. "Look down by the rock. The female is there."

I am not surprised. I have directed Pak down this end of the shore, knowing that we would head toward the rock with the basket. I hoped that the female would be there. Steff. Last night when I lay on my back in the sands and stared up at the stars, I thought about her and how she felt pressed against me. I ran a hand along my cock, touching myself as I thought about her soft hand pressed to my chest, but when Pak rolled over in his sleep and mumbled, I stopped. I cannot jerk my cock with my son right next to me.

So I went to the cliffs a short distance away, pretending to relieve my bladder, and jerked it there.

It is not a moment I am proud of. I should be able to control myself better. Just thinking about a female should not distract me so. It is not as if I have ever expected to have a mate. A female and pleasure in mating are both things that feel as if they are reserved for the other clans, just like everything else. I have my son, and that is enough.

It should be enough. It has always been enough until now.

Until she smiled at me.

I think about that smile as I head toward the rock. She is there again this morning, and I pretend I am not excited to see her. I wonder if I will get another lungful of her scent or if she will remain too far away. I wonder if she will touch my chest again. I wonder…

I pause, because the beach is very quiet this day. Normally there are shelled creatures scuttling around on the sands, and distant birds calling to one another. Today, all is silent, and it pricks my senses and the feeling of wrongness grows greater.

She needs to leave this beach, I decide. We need to leave, too, but I would be a poor hunter and protector if I did not ensure a vulnerable female was safe. Today, then, I will speak to her. I will try gestures at first, but if she does not grasp them, then I will use words. It is against the rules for Outcast clan to speak to others, but she has an Outcast name, does she not? And there is no one here to punish me if I do speak to her. I glance out at the waters again, but the shore is the same as it has been for days, tinged with red and silent. I wish Ezz were here so he could tell me more about the old stories…

But if Ezz was here, he would not approve of our taking handouts from the other clans. He would not approve of me speaking to Steff.

It feels disloyal to even be slightly glad that he is gone. I miss my clan, but sometimes it is freeing to answer to no one but myself and my son.

Steff looks over at us as we approach, and a bright smile curves her face. She flashes her straight, white teeth, square but pretty, and her excitement is obvious. Her mane is pulled back into a braided tail, neat and tidy, and she wears different furs today than she did yesterday. She opens her mouth, raising a hand in greeting, and then snaps her mouth shut again, putting her fingers to her lips.

For some reason, I like that she wants to speak to me. I like the sight of her bright, happy eyes. I like her smile. It makes me want to smile back.

Pak happily skips up to the basket, releasing my hand as he does. He does not speak, but pushes Steff's hands aside with the confidence of a child who has not yet learned not to push. He opens the lid, peering inside, and Steff looks up at me, amusement on her face, and for a moment, it feels as if we are Pak's parents, sharing a moment over his antics.

My son makes a noise of excitement in his throat and then pulls out a dried fish. And then another. Another. Over and over, he pulls out more dried fish of all sizes. Food. She has brought us a great deal of food this day, enough to fill both my belly and Pak's. My pride flares, and for a moment, I am angry that we must resort to others giving us food instead of taking care of ourselves. I do not want a handout.

"Ino," Steff murmurs, and there is apology on her face when I meet her eye. Her voice is soft. "Ino wuttit lookslike." She gestures at the water. "No fish."

I do not know her language, but her last words are easy enough to understand. She feeds us because the waters are empty. Instead of making me feel better, it reinforces that there is danger, hidden danger, and we should not be here. "Put it back in the basket, Pak," I tell my son, speaking aloud in front of Steff. It does not count if I do not speak to her, I tell myself. That is different. "We cannot stay here. We will take it with us."

"Yes, Papa," Pak says, and immediately gets to work putting them back inside.

Alarm flares in Steff's eyes. She moves toward me, crossing the distance on the beach, her feet slipping as she does. "Waitno," she breathes, shaking her head. "Ucantgo."

"Female," I say, and the word tastes forbidden on my lips. I hesitate, then gesture at the water. "This is bad. We leave." I indicate her. "You leave."

Her small brows furrow as she watches me. "Donunnerstand." She reaches out and touches my chest, putting her hand over my heart. "Juth—"

All the words I am not supposed to say stick to my tongue. I stare down at her, foolish, because she has moved close to me and put her hand on my skin. She freely touches me as if I am important, as if I am not a filthy Outcast. It makes me feel…strange. I gaze down at her hand on my chest, warm and sweet, and it distracts me.

Would it be bad if I put my hand over hers? If I touched her the way she touches me? She is covered in furs, so I would not be able to feel her skin and yet…I would like to feel her heart beating under my fingers. I—

There is a low rumble along the shore.

My senses flare with alarm. I immediately grab Pak into my arms, holding him against my chest. He clings to me as I turn, and I notice out of the corner of my eye that Steff grabs the food basket. I want to tell her that we need it, but then there's an enormous sucking sound that rolls down the beach and I forget everything else.

I watch in frozen horror as the water rolls back, as if tugged backward. I keep expecting the waves to move forward again, to curl over and surge toward the sand once more, but instead, it just keeps going back, and back, and back, until I feel as if I have never seen the water recede so very much. A great swath of the beach is exposed, the sand redder here than ever.

As I stare, the water surges forward again, and I see it.

Legs. That is the first thing I see. Like one of the creatures that scuttles along on the beach with many legs, the thing rising from the ocean has handfuls and handfuls of legs, all of them soft and yellowish and dripping with red. The legs wriggle and slide through the water, touching the sand, and then pull the massive body of the creature forward.

I cannot look away. Even when the water surges and brushes at my feet again, I cannot stop staring. I have seen nothing this big. The other clans have built huts for themselves upon the shore, but they pale in comparison to the creature that pulls its heavy body from the water, the sucking sound following it as it beaches itself. It is as big as a pool.

No, a lake. An enormous lake, and this creature's body would take up all of it.

Even now, I hear faint screams as the thing pushes itself onto the sand. The body is dripping with seaweed and algae, the top of it rounded like the shelled clams that Pak and I used to find in the tide pools. The clusters of legs wriggle along the beach, hauling it forward, and I see two stalks with large, rounded blue eyes swiveling around, searching for…something. A narrow head, shaped like a blade, pushes onto the shore, and I watch as it lowers, nudging at the huts clustered at the far end of the beach.

With one move of its head, it pushes one aside. The entire thing tumbles over like a stack of pebbles, and I can distantly make out someone running out of the hut.

Steff makes a sound of alarm in her throat, moving forward. I can tell she wants to help. But as one of the creature's flailing tentacle legs pushes into the ground and shoves sand aside, I realize it is dangerous for her to go back to them. The creature stands between us and her clan.

She makes a helpless sound in her throat, looking at me. "Hafta helpem!" Then she goes still. Her eyes widen and she stares at something behind me.

The sucking sound grows loud once more, just like it did when the water receded and the creature came out.

It is not alone.

I do not turn to look. I grab Steff by the arm, and clutching my son, we run for the cliffs.

10

STEPH

I n an instant, the safe bubble of the ice planet is shattered.

Logically, I know this place is dangerous. I know this is a rough environment and it could kill us for any number of reasons. I just never thought one of those reasons would be a Godzilla-sized mollusk rising up out of the water and showing up on the beach. I stare at it in sheer horror, because it looks like something out of a nightmare. There's a hard, turtle-like body, but instead of turtle legs or fins underneath, there's dozens of wriggling snakelike arms that it uses to propel itself up the beach. The head is a thin blade that reminds me of a pterodactyl from back in Earth's prehistoric past, and the entire thing is the size of a city block.

It's staggeringly large.

I always thought the cove we call home was spacious, but this creature takes up almost all of the room on the sand. With one slither forward, it crushes the longhouse under a tentacle and continues its way forward, knocking aside huts as it does.

Someone's going to get hurt. Someone's going to get killed. I bite back a terrified whimper as the thing surges forward again. Every instinct in my animal brain screams for me to run away. To flee to the hills. But I can't abandon my tribe. I have to do something. I clutch the basket of food in my arms and look over at Juth, helpless. Pak has his arms around his father's neck and he looks terrified. I know just how he feels. "We have to help them!"

Then, there's that weird sound of the water receding again, like it's being drained out of the ocean. It's a wet, horrid, sucking sound, and as I look over Juth's shoulder, I see another large, red-covered body rising from the waves behind us.

Oh fuck. There's more than one.

A whimper dies in my throat.

When Juth grabs my arm and hauls me to his side, I don't protest. He races away, heading for the hills. Run. Run. Worry about the tribe later. Survival is all that's important. His hand is bruisingly tight on my arm, as if he's going to drag me along behind him if I slow down. Run, I tell myself. Run. Run. Get away. Hide, before you get eaten.

Behind us, one of the creatures bellows, and it’s a sound like a foghorn—thick and low and incredibly loud. It echoes through my skin and it feels so fucking close that I stumble on the slippery sands and land flat on my ass. The air thuds out of my lungs with a whoosh and my butt lights up with pain. I cry out, and suddenly Juth is right there, grabbing my arm again. He hauls me to my feet, that frantic look in his eyes as the creature slides up the shore, gravel and sand crunching so loud underneath its hard shelled body that the sound is deafening.

"Steff," he says, voice harsh, and tugs on my arm.

I know. We have to go. Terrified, I glance back at the creature, and that strange, pyramid shaped head is so close that I can practically feel the thing's breath bearing down on us. I take a step forward—and collapse again as hot agony shoots up my ankle.

I let out a cry of distress, dropping the basket I've held onto for so long. My ankle feels like it’s on fire, and it hurts so badly I don't want to touch it. I can't sit here and let the creature squash me, though. I have to get up. Have to keep going. Have to—

"Steff," Juth growls, and then he's at my side, trying to help me up.

"Can't walk," I pant, sweating through the pain. Oh god, he can't understand me. Panic flashes through me. "Juth, I can't walk—"

Juth isn't listening anyhow. Before I can say anything else, he grabs me around the waist and hauls me against his side, carrying me like a sack of potatoes as he races towards the cliffs.

It's not comfortable. It's horribly uncomfortable, actually. His arm cuts into my fleshy middle so hard that it feels as if he's choking me. My legs dangle and flail, and every time my one foot strikes the other it sends new, fresh pain all through my body. But I'm alive. I'm alive, and Juth is somehow carrying me and his son at the same time as he races for the cliffs. There's a bellow behind us. Sand and grit flies through the air, peppering my skin, and Juth doesn't stop.

Not once. He just keeps on going, tireless. He doesn't stop until we get to the edge of the cliffs, and then he collapses there, dropping both me and Pak onto the sand. He falls to his knees, panting, and looks over at me.

"Thank you," I manage to croak out before turning over and puking.

I think we're safe. I think. The cliff's shadow is falling over us, making the world distinctly colder, and the creatures sound farther away. Even so, I can't turn around to look because my body is rejecting everything I put in it earlier.

Juth groans, and I feel him shuffle in the sands. "Steff," he murmurs, brushing my hair back from my face with his hands. A moment later I feel another pair of hands in my hair, and I realize Pak is patting the side of my head, trying to help his father. It's so unexpected I choke on the awful retching feelings my body is sending up, and I cough and wheeze before the next round of pukes. When the sensation dissipates, I wipe my mouth and cover my mess in the sand. Then, I roll onto my throbbing butt and look back at the beach behind us.

The water is alive. A sea full of island-sized monsters is rising up, heading towards the sands. Every single one of them is covered with the red stuff that's been flooding the beach, and as I watch, one monster moves forward, flopping down onto the sand. It burrows its beaky nose into the ground, digging out a hole. As I gaze down the beach, another creature is doing the same. Two more are rising out of the water.

It's an invasion. I stare in shock. We've been here a year and never seen anything like this. "What are those?" I look over at Juth and Pak. "Have you ever seen those before?"

Juth just gets to his feet, frowning. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as one of the creatures makes the bullhorn-sounding noise and digs with its nose. Pak moves to his side, clutching at his leg, and his normally wagging tail is utterly still. There's a terrified look on Pak's round face, and I ache for the little boy.

"Papa," he says in a small voice, tugging at his father's belt. "We dropped the food."

Juth's expression turns grim. He looks back at me, studying my face.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I tried to hold onto it."

He drops to a crouch beside me, and woo, that is a blatant sort of thing. I force myself not to look down, because that's rude. Rude, I remind myself. Rudedontlookathisballsruderuderude. I watch him, curious to see what he's going to do, but he only runs his fingers along my jaw, as if checking me over to make sure I'm all right. The touch is surprisingly sweet. Startling, but nice.

"I'm okay," I whisper when he studies my face. I nod, managing a smile. "Should we retreat more?"

He doesn't answer me, and I remind myself that he doesn't understand what I'm saying. I know what he says because I have a translator implant that makes me automatically understand his language, but he has no such thing. Me talking to him is me babbling into the wind. Juth brushes his thumb over my cheek and then gets to his feet, his dick practically in my face. I make an alarmed noise and avert my gaze.

"Pak," Juth says in a low voice. "Watch the female."

Before I can wonder what he's talking about, he races back down toward the creatures. Gasping, I clutch at Pak. Oh god, This is a really, really bad idea. I want to call for him, but I also don't want to make him stop, in case one of those enormous heads notices him and decides to casually lean over and eat him. My ankle throbs painfully, but I don't look over at it. If I pretend it doesn't exist, maybe it won't bother me. I can't take my eyes off of Juth, anyhow. I watch in terror as he darts between the enormous creatures as they use their heads to shovel, digging holes in the sand for god knows what reason.

He's fast, though. I'll give him that. Juth is practically at the shore before I know it, and I hold Pak tightly to my side as I watch him scoop up the basket full of food that I brought and then races back toward us. Another creature is coming up on the shore, and it snaps at him, furious. He simply rolls away, ducking, and continues racing away.

Juth manages to somehow dodge all of the enormous creatures and makes it back to us, collapsing on the sand with the food.

I want to be angry, but I can't. I'm too shell-shocked. I stare, numb, at the creatures that have taken over the beach. Our home is destroyed. I can only pray no one has been injured.

Juth turns and watches the creatures as they tear up the beach. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and then tightens his grip on the basket under his arm. "They do not attack."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but he's right. As I watch, the monsters seem far more interested in digging in the sand than coming after snacks, i.e. us. That's a relief.

"Let us get somewhere safer," Juth tells Pak, holding out his hand. "Come."

When he looks over at me, I nod. Right. Away from the beach is probably safer, though I don't know what we'll do if they keep moving forward. Retreat into the mountains? Head for the distant fruit cave? Somewhere farther inland? I turn, glancing down the beach where my tribe was. Everything in me says I need to rejoin them. I heard screaming. If they're all right, they're going to need to talk this through. They'll need me. Not just for a calm, reasonable voice, but because I'm another set of hands. Something tells me we're all going to be needed in the next while.

I point down the beach. "My tribe—"

Juth shakes his head, coming to my side. "Not right now." His tone is harsh and brooks no argument. "Not with these things on the beach. It is not safe. I will take you back to them later."

Of course. His words make perfect sense. I never really think of how long the beach is, but I'm probably a mile down the shore from the others and a mile has never seemed so very, very long. My ankle throbs again, reminding me that the beach would be a longer walk than usual. It'll be okay. We'll regroup when things are safe. At least Juth and Pak and I are together, I reason. Safety in numbers. I glance over at the monsters again and shudder. I want to cry, but tears feel stupid and useless.

Juth studies me, his arms full. He sets Pak down and touches his son's cheek. "Can you walk?"

Pak nods bravely, and Juth smiles down at him, brushing a tender hand over his son's face. He puts the heavy basket on his hip and then holds his other hand out to me. Oh.

"Come," he says, his voice strong and authoritative. "I have you."

I blink, because it seems an absurd thing. I should be the one taking care of them. I should be helping Juth comfort Pak, not the two of them comforting me. I'm a settled, logical, educated adult. I should be in control…even if I want to cry.

But the hand extended outward is…nice. I reach out to take it, getting to my feet—

—or I try to. The moment I put pressure on my bad ankle, white-hot fire shoots up my leg and I nearly black out from the suddenness of it. I topple over into the sand again, my lungs heaving, and it takes everything I have not to puke from the pain. I'm very conscious of them waiting on me, and when one of the creatures makes an angry sound, I know I can't stay. I know I can't remain on this beach. I have to go. I raise a finger in the air, lungs heaving. "Just…moment…"

You can do this, Steph, I pep talk myself. You can rest your ankle when you're safe. You've got to get away from here with Pak and Juth. You can't stay. What if those creatures get hungry? I roll onto my hands and knees, careful not to put pressure on my foot, and manage—somehow—to get upright.

The moment I do, Juth puts an arm around my waist, tugging me against his side. "Lean on me."

I don't need to be told twice. I slide my arm around his hip and do my best to keep the pressure off my foot. Oh god. Just putting any sort of weight on it makes me break out in a cold sweat and pain scale up my leg. Later, I tell myself. You can have a sprained ankle later. I take a hesitant, hopping step forward and nearly pull Juth down to the ground with me, but he keeps us upright. I manage another step. And then another.

"To the cave, Pak," Juth tells his son. "Do you know the way?"

"I remember," the boy sing-songs.

A cave? They have a cave?

I want to ask so many questions, but when I take another step, it requires everything I have not to puke from the agony. I can ask about the cave later, I decide, and sweat rolls down my face.

11

JUTH

T  he female is stronger and braver than I thought.

She is obviously terrified and in pain. But she does not complain, and even though she puts no pressure on her foot, she walk-hobbles at my side up through the rocky paths along the cliffs toward the small cave that Pak and I like to use on the days when the wind is too cold against bare skin. It is tricky for me to walk with Steff tugging against me all the time, and I wish we could go faster, but I know she does the best she can. I would hand the food to Pak and let him carry it, but it is too heavy for his small arms and he has had to endure enough this day.

He is doing well, my son. He is not frightened, or screaming. He is calm, looking to me for guidance. I could not be prouder of him. I wish I could carry him as a father should, but my arms are full.

Pak looks up at me, all wide eyes. "Papa, are the big creatures going to eat us?"

I shake my head. "They are not here to eat. Watch how they move." I pause and we turn to look at the creatures piling up on the shore. Each one is enormously huge, tearing up the sand and pushing aside rocks in their haste to get onto the beach. "They do not snap at each other or attack the wounded." I point at one that has an old, scabbed over graze on its shell that looks as if it has healed badly. It is surrounded by the others, and I am reminded of herds that protect the weak by moving them toward the middle of the group. "And you saw how they reacted when I approached, did you not? They did not like my nearness, but they did not attack otherwise. They are territorial, like kaari, but they do not eat us. We are still leaving, though. They are so big they will crush us without a second thought, and so we must be very careful."

Pak looks fascinated. He touches my hip. "Do you think I can ride one when I get older? Like the one female rides the golden bird?"

"What female rides a golden bird?" I ask, confused.

"Ronka," Steff pants at my side.

I turn to her, curious.

"Ronka," she says again. Her face is a strange, unhealthy shade of pale and her lips are even paler. I am not sure they are supposed to be that color, and it concerns me as much as the haze in her eyes. "Ronka ridesdedraggn."

Pak moves closer to me. "She looks like she is going to vomit again, Papa."

He is not wrong. I have never seen a female look more sorry than she does in this moment. "We are almost at the cave." I think for a moment, then set the basket of food down. It is true that we are not so very far away, so I can abandon the food for a short period of time. Steff looks as if she will faint if she has to walk any farther, so once the food basket is on the ground, I put a hand behind her knees and scoop her up into my arms. She weighs more than Pak, but she is not so heavy that it is difficult to carry her.

She makes a sound of protest in her throat even as she sags against me. Her feet are covered with fur, but even so, one seems to have an odd angle to the way it hangs, and I suspect it is hurt far worse than she has let on. If it has snapped, then she is a very brave female to walk so far in so much pain. My respect for her grows. "You have been very strong so far," I whisper to her. "Let me be strong the rest of the way."

Steff makes a soft noise in her throat and I remember she can somehow understand me, even though we do not speak the same language. The one from Shadow Cat clan—U'dron—told me that the strange tribe that lives on these shores put a pebble in his head and that is how he is able to understand all their words. It sounds like utter foolishness, but what if I am wrong? What if one can understand their strange language just by putting a pebble into an ear or some such? There are many things that I do not know how they work, and what if this is one of them?

I would like to understand her. The elders of the Outcast clan would allow it since she has an Outcast name, I think. Surely that makes it all right.

I ponder this as I climb up to the lip of the small cave and duck inside. It is not very deep, but it is plenty enough for myself and Pak. The interior floor is covered with a bit of grit, and I make a mental note to brush it clean, once I am sure that Steff is settled. I gently set her down on the stone floor and she hisses with pain the moment her foot touches the ground. "Stay here," I tell her sternly. "Do not move from this spot. Stay here until I return."

She lets out a small laugh that sounds slightly panicked, as if even the thought of moving causes her pain. She nods.

"I will get the food and return. Then we will look at your ankle."

She tries to sit up and reaches for her foot.

This Steff is not a good listener. I smack her hand before she can touch it and cause herself pain. She looks at me in surprise as I shake a finger in her face like I do to Pak when he misbehaves. "What did I just say?"

"Notuch," she whispers. "Sorree."

"Leave it alone," I command. "I will take care of it when I get back." I give her a warning look. "I will not be happy if you disobey."

Her jaw drops, and then a startled laugh erupts from her. She rolls over on her side, curling around herself, and I notice that she carefully keeps her one foot with the odd angle off the floor.

"Good," I say. "Stay like that. I will be right back."

"I will watch her, Papa," Pak says eagerly.

"Yes," I say. "Good." Anything to keep my son away from the beach. I do not think the animals beaching themselves are predators, but Pak is small and curious and could easily be flattened. I cannot lose him. If I lose him, I have lost everything. I give him a fierce, quick hug before getting to my feet. "I will return on quick feet."

And I race away as if the creatures are nipping at my heels.

I retrieve the food on the beach, but as I do, I think about Steff and her foot. And her pain. I do not like seeing her suffer, not when there is a root that will help with that. I search the cliffs, looking for a familiar small, pink flower that grows amidst the brambles and rocks. There is one not far from here, and I race over to it and pull the entire plant free, glancing back at the creatures on the beach. They continue to dig and make loud sounds, but they do not seem to be paying attention to me at all, which is good. They are leaf eaters, then.

I do not return just yet, but scan the beach, looking for others of her clan. I do not see anyone, but the creatures block most of the beach. If they are wise, they have crept to the rocky cliffs for protection as well. Perhaps I will hunt for them tomorrow, so I can tell her if they live or not. For now, though, my son and the female's safety are my biggest concern.

I will control what I can. The death of the Great Smoking Mountain and the destruction of my small tribe have taught me that. Small victories, day by day.

Staying close to the cliffs, I walk back to the safety of the cave and check on my son and the female. Pak is at her side, petting her mane, and her skin is as pale and sweaty as ever. She looks miserable. Pak glances up when I come in, his little face worried. "She is thirsty, Papa. I am, too."

Thirst. We need water if we are to stay here. There is a stream of fresh water that erupts from the rocks a short distance away, but it is near the creatures.

We will not live if we do not have something to drink, though…so back out I go.

12

STEPH

T  he pain in my ankle feels as if it's getting worse by the minute. I pant through it, trying to manage the feeling. I just need to hold out until Veronica can show up and take a look at my foot. It'll be fine. We have a tribe healer. Veronica will fix it…provided Veronica and everyone else weren't killed.

Pak pets my hair with a tiny, sticky hand, and I feel awful that he's the one comforting me. We've just been through a traumatic experience. I should be the one comforting a small child and reassuring him. Instead, I can barely see straight through the haze of pain. "Everything's fine, Pak," I manage. "Everything's good. It's just another crazy thing about this planet. Doesn't mean it's bad. Just different. We'll figure it out."

"Is okay, Steff," he tells me in that strange language of theirs. "Papa will fix your foot."

As if it's been called, another fresh wave of pain shoots up my leg. I pant harder, and then there's a new hand touching my face, the skin surprisingly cool, the fingers callused. I open my eyes to see Juth standing over me, a look of concern on his face. He's got sand in his hair, so much that it drips onto my face as he leans toward me. I sputter as it gets into my mouth, and he gives me an utterly sheepish look, touching his head and shaking the excess free.

"I have water for you," he says. "Can you sit up?"

Can I? That is an excellent question. I look over at Pak, who is gulping thirstily from the water bladder, and my mouth feels as dry as the sand in Juth's hair. I should drink something. I try to sit up, and it sends fresh pain throbbing up my leg. My breath hisses and I want to collapse again, but the knowledge that a child is watching me with worried eyes makes me try to smile through the worst of it. "I'm okay," I promise. "I'm okay."

"Let me help," Juth says, and then he moves behind me. His strong hands grip me under the arm and he practically carries me over to the wall so I can lean against it.

It helps, and once I'm upright, I rest my head against the craggy rock, my eyes closing again. I hate that I'm being so weak. Normally I'm strong and capable, the one ready to lend a hand. Now Juth is having to take care of me, and it's embarrassing.

He tugs at my fur layers. "You are sweating. Take some of these off." He pulls on my clothing, carefully removing it and making noises at the leather knots I have holding everything to my body. His hands graze over my breasts and I stiffen, but when I look at his face, his expression is blank. Accidental. Obviously accidental, I tell myself. He might not even like boobs, since I'm a rather busty sort and Farli—the only sa-khui woman I've seen—is as lean as they come. So I let him strip all of my layers off until he gets to the leather band I have over my breasts. It's tied with a knot in the front and provides a pathetic amount of support, so I keep a second band crisscrossed over it to minimize jiggling.

Juth gives it an absolutely baffled look. "Are you already wounded? You are bandaged here?"

I shake my head, putting a hand to my boobs. "I can't explain a bra and 'breast support' with our language barrier, so I'm not even going to try. This stays on." This time, when he reaches for it again, I smack his fingers lightly, like he did to me earlier.

He laughs and gives up. "Do you feel better?"

I shrug, because my leg still feels as if it's on fire. I'm trying to pretend it doesn't exist, but if I twitch and it touches something, white-hot pain shoots up my leg, so I'm trying really, really hard to stay still. "I'll manage."

"Water?"

I nod, glancing over at Pak. He beams at me in what might be the cutest grin ever and offers up the half-empty waterskin. I take it hesitantly. One look around the cave shows me that there's no water here, which means this is all we've got unless someone goes out to get more. "Should we ration this?"

Juth makes a drinking gesture.

I offer it to him first. "You went and got it. You should drink."

He shakes his head. "I drank when I filled up. This is for you and Pak."

"Oh. Okay." I take a small sip and the water is cold and wonderful and the best thing I've ever tasted. I bite back a whimper of pleasure and take another sip, and then another. I want to drink the entire contents of the skin, but I force myself to close it again and hand it back. "Thank you."

"Now your pants," he tells me. "I must see your wound." His gaze meets mine. "If it is very bad, we must set the bones before they knit improperly. "

Oh god, that sounds awful. I shake my head.

"Yes," he says. "We must. We cannot let it heal poorly." He tugs at the belt he wears—the only stitch of clothing—and pulls out a small stone knife made from what looks like a chip of rock. "We will cut your furs off and see how bad the leg is."

I'm a little panicked at the thought. "No, it's fine. There's a healer back at the other camp."

"Good," Juth says, clearly not understanding me. "We are agreed."

He puts his knife to my waist and begins to cut through layers of leather. Leather that takes endless hours to make from skins, leather that takes even more hours to stitch into clothing. It feels incredibly wasteful, and I want to complain, but my leg is starting to feel like hot lava. Juth cuts my belt loose and my pants sag just a little, the leather material shifting, and it brushes against my foot. I cry out, unable to keep the sound back.

Juth freezes, looking up at me.

"Sorry," I whimper. "It's fine. It's fine. It's just a sprain."

He sets down his knife, then reaches out and touches my cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture. "It will be worse before it gets better, but you must be strong."

A choked laugh escapes me. "You're not supposed to tell me that. You're supposed to tell me it'll be okay."

His mouth twitches at my response, as if he's going to smile, and then Juth holds out a plant. It's leaves and roots and all, something I've seen the others collecting when they go herb gathering. "Chew on these leaves," he tells me. "It makes the pain go distant."

Don't have to tell me twice. I shove the entire plant up to my face, whimpering when he picks the knife up again. I know I'm being a baby and he's just cutting my pants, but I'm not good with pain. Not in the slightest.

"You're eating it wrong," Pak says with a giggle. "Leaves only. Papa, look at how silly she is."

Pak's comments make my mood lighten a little, and I grin at him from a mouthful of leaves. "Tastes awful," I agree. "But at least you guys are talking to me now." The medicinal taste coats my tongue, making it tingly. The blood rushes through me and my head swims pleasantly. Oooh. I've never taken these herbs before but now I feel…real nice. I lean back against the rocks and lift the hunk of roots to my mouth, nibbling on what's left of the leaves again. "Muuuuch better."

Juth watches me with one arm propped up on his knee, waiting patiently for me to, I dunno, get high as a kite before he cuts again. His dick is practically staring me down, too. Like, it's just RIGHT THERE between his parted legs, all ribs and spur and all kinds of nonsense.

"You have enormous balls," I feel I should point out, and then I giggle to myself, because I'm either drunk or stoned and I absolutely do not care. "Man, I feel good. Is my ankle fucked up?"

I lift the plant to my mouth again and Juth extracts it from my grip. "Perhaps that is enough for you. You are small, so perhaps a small dose, yes?"

"God bless your heart," I tell him, reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Calling me small. You're wrong, but I still appreciate it."

He reaches for my pants, watching me carefully before cutting again.

I feel I have to further emphasize the point. It's my brain, leaf-drunk and probably more than a little skewed from pain and the day's terror, but it's very important that I stress to him just how much woman I am. "I have tits larger than your kid," I say. "Like, triple D cups back on Earth. I think they've shrunk a little here but really not much. I was kinda hoping I'd turn all leggy like Lauren or Raven, but I'm still me." I sigh, watching the knife hack through my pants. "Big boobs and all. So don't take that away from me."

"You are very talkative," Juth points out as he cuts. "Here I thought you were quiet."

"You also thought I was small!" It annoys me that he can't understand me. "Look at these grandiose breasts," I say, cupping them through the leather cross-over I wear. "I mean, I'm not gorgeous like Sam or Flor, and I'm not sexy, but I've got great boobs. Great ones." I look down at them sadly. "Great boobs that no one will see because I'm not resonating and no other girl is even a smidge gay."

He watches my hands as I grope my chest, pausing over my knees as he cuts. "Do your teats hurt?"

"Teats. Oh god. That's so unsexy. Why does it turn me on? Why is your dick still staring at me?" I swear, the head of it looks like a great big, judgy eye.

"Is the pain in just your leg?" he asks, touching my chin to get my attention. When I nod, he grunts and goes back to cutting. "This is the part that is going to hurt. Be mindful."

What do I have to be mindful of? He's the one that's cu—

Hot fire blasts through my brain. I whimper, clutching at my breasts hard. "Oh fuuuuuck."

"I know," he says, his voice sympathetic. "It will be over soon." And he cuts more, and with every brush of the leather against my skin, it feels like fresh agony. I'm barely aware that I'm crying, sobbing aloud until Juth reaches out and touches my cheek again. "It is done. Your pants are gone. But…you should not look, Steff."

I keep my eyes closed, because what he says makes perfect sense. "S'bad?"

"Pak, hold her hand," he tells his son. "Steff, the bone is in the wrong place in your ankle. I can tell just from looking at it that it will not heal proper unless we set it. Are you ready?"

I shake my head even as Pak's small hand grips mine. "No. No. Not ready—"

Something crunches in my leg. It's a horrific feeling, and I suck in so hard I choke on my own saliva. Colors sheet behind my eyelids, and I wonder if I'm going to pass out. I never pass out. Never, never. The pain seems unending, and I'm whimpering and crying and hurting so bad I just want to scream with all of it. I'm like those creatures outside, bellowing and rolling in the sand with pain.

"She's still clutching her teats, Papa," Pak says in warning.

"It's because they're great teats!" I bellow. "Jesus."

Juth chuckles. "Steff is just lost in the medicine, my son. Remember old Ezz? He would shout when he ate the pain leaves, too."

"All right." Pak doesn't sound convinced, though. "Did you fix her foot?"

That makes me open my eyes. Immediately I regret it, because his cock and balls are definitely staring at me. I force myself not to make eye contact with them. "Yeah, did you?"

"It is set for now. We will let the khui do the rest once it is wrapped." And he holds up a long strip of my chopped up pants. His gaze meets mine and his expression is apologetic. "This will hurt, Steff."

Oh fuck.

13

JUTH

When the twin suns go down, the cave becomes cold. After I wrapped her ankle, Steff cried herself to sleep like a kit, and even now is on her back in the cave. Pak is curled up on the floor at her side, sharing warmth, and they both sleep heavily.

For me, there is no sleep. Not when, if I look out onto the beach, I see it alive with the shells of the strange creatures. Not when their bellows fill the night. Not when everything is unsafe and uncertain. I head out to get more water, because I know both Pak and the female will be thirsty when they wake up, and the sands feel as warm as they did back home. They are almost as red as blood and my every step crunches with the shells of the strange red sea-insects. These sands are not warm. They are always cold.

It is such a strange mystery. I wonder what Ezz would think. I wonder what advice he would have to give. I wish he were here. I could use guidance. I try to be a good father to Pak, but I break the rules. I take food from the clans. I speak to the female even though I should not. It seems as if everything I do is wrong. These thoughts churn in my head, filling me with frustration.

When I return to the cave, I check over Steff and Pak. My son is curled up, sucking on his thumb as he sleeps, his tail flicking. His back is pressed to Steff's back, and the female shivers, her body trembling and her skin covered in small bumps. Oh no. Is this a bad reaction to the leaves? Have they made her ill? I think about Haal, and how she advised never to give too many leaves. That if someone ate too much, they would drift off to sleep and never wake again.

My gut churns and I move next to Steff, tapping her cheek. "Female. Steff. Wake."

She snorts and rouses, looking up at me with bleary eyes. A bit of drool has formed in one corner of her mouth and she swipes at it with her hand. "Hmm?"

I stroke my fingers down her arm, which is covered in bumps. "What is this?"

Her teeth clack and she immediately tries to pull me down against her. "God, you're warm."

I sink down against her, letting her pull me to the floor, and when she burrows against me, I realize she is seeking my warmth. Her fingers are like ice as she presses them against my chest, nuzzling against me. I think of the elders. Ezz would not approve. She is not Outcast clan. I should not touch her, even if she has an Outcast name. She is not one of us. She…

She rubs her nose against my chest, and…I like it. I slide my arms around her, careful to avoid her broken foot, and she snuggles against my chest as if she has always belonged there. She feels good in my arms, too. My cock pricks to attention, noticing her softness. She has so much bare skin pressing against mine. Without her layers of furs on, Steff is rounded all over, her belly and thighs plump and dimpled with health and good meals. She has a patch of fur between her legs, and she still wears those strange straps over her teats, which makes me wonder about them.

I touch the edge of one strap, unable to help my curiosity. "Do your teats still ache?"

She mumbles something against my chest and then plants my hand against one of her large, soft teats. I know she is still drunk with pain-leaves. Even so, I worry she is trying to tell me that she is in pain.

So I will treat this as if I would treat her ankle. "Show me where it hurts you, Steff. Let me help."

Steff makes a soft noise in her throat and tugs at the harness. She wants it off, then? I can help with that. I tug on the straps that cross over her shoulders, loosening them. The knot between her teats presses against my chest, reminding me that it is there, and I pull out my knife and slice it off, too. Then, her teats practically spill free, shocking me with just how much soft, pale skin there is. How did she hide this much teat under those bands? It is a mystery, and her skin has red, irritated lines from where the leather bit into her flesh.

"Is this what hurts?" I ask, rubbing her skin where the red bands have cropped up.

She whimpers and mumbles something under her breath, sliding a little closer to me. She raises an arm over her head, and the movement pushes her teat firmly against my hand, the tip scraping against my palm. Oh. It is hard, that little tip. Is it supposed to be? I think of Haal, when she was nursing Pak in the days before she died. I do not recall if her teats and their nipples were hard or soft. I never thought to look. I brush my fingers over the tip, learning the strange texture, and the female sucks in a breath.

In the next moment, a new scent drenches the cave, hot and thick. Arousal.

My cock surges, and I bite back a groan, pulling my hand away from Steff's abundant teats. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, releasing her, because I want to touch her more than anything. I want to chase down that arousal scent. I want to put my mouth on her skin and see if I can make that scent thicker, richer. But not while she is out of her mind on pain-leaves.

"Juth," she whispers, and when I look up at her, Steff's eyes are open, shining with her khui in the darkness. Her lips part, and she reaches for my hand again, placing it on her teat and then arching against my touch.

"No," I say, and pull away again. My mouth waters and I want to taste her all over. I want to drink in that scent she gives off. I want so many things, all of them wrong. I sit up, determined to put some distance between us, but she shivers and makes a soft sound of distress in her throat, reaching for me again.

I lie back down and she immediately plasters herself to my front, pushing those large teats against my chest and rubbing herself against my skin. She sighs and clutches against me, and as I stare at the ceiling of the cave, I wonder if any male has ever been as tortured as I am…or enjoyed it so much.

WHEN THE SKIES outside begin to lighten, Pak rolls over, mumbling, and Steff opens her eyes, blinking up at me.

It makes me feel strangely vulnerable. She gazes at me, studying my face, and I am…seen in a way I do not think I have ever been seen before. My cock aches with its morning rising, and it is not helped when her hand rises, as if she is going to reach out to touch my face. I want that, I realize. Her eyes are clear and bright, and she still reaches for me. Her fingers hover over my jaw and our eyes meet—

—only to be interrupted by the angry bellow of one of the creatures outside.

The sound is loud and close, and Pak wakes up from his sleep with a cry. "Papa!!"

"I am here." I jump to my feet and scoop up my son. "You are safe. Papa is here."

He whimpers, burrowing his face against my neck, clutching at me. "Is it the Great Smoking Mountain again?"

"No, it is the great shelled things from yesterday," I remind him, stroking his back. "Do you remember?"

"They do not eat people," he says, sniffling. "I remember."

"Very good." I am proud of him. "Come, we will look at them and you will see there is nothing to fear while we are in the cave." I do not glance back at Steff, because if I do, I suspect I will become very distracted. For now, my son comes first. So I move to the front of the cave and step out into the early morning sunlight. "Look out. What do you see?"

Pak lifts his head, his mane sticking out on all sides as it does in the mornings. He rubs a small fist over his eyes and I am reminded of how young my son is. How hard this is for him to realize we might be losing another home. "I see shells," he says after a moment. "Are they hiding under the sand?"

I glance out at the beach. I have checked it several times during the night, and most of the creatures have settled down from their earlier march onto the shore. They are not gone, instead choosing to burrow under the reddened sands like so many tentacle-wreathed hills. Their heads are not visible, but I know they are still there, waiting. Still dangerous, but not as terrifying as yesterday. "I do not know," I admit, rubbing his back. "But they do not look fearsome like this, do they?"

"They look sleepy," he says, and a little giggle escapes him.

"Perhaps they are," I say, smiling. "We will stay out of their way if they are determined to nap on our shore."

"Do you think they will go away soon?" Pak asks.

I do not have an answer for this. "Ezz's stories said that the beaches were only red for a moon. I cannot imagine they will stay forever. When the red goes away, they will too, I think."

This satisfies my son. "Until then, we hide in here and eat Steff's fish?"

There is a laugh behind us, and I know the female is listening in. I smile, hugging my son to my chest. "Until then, yes. We hide our heads and wait for the beach to be ours once more." I turn and look at Steff…and then I wish I had not.

She is curled up on the floor, tugging her mane over her shoulders as if she can somehow hide all the skin that is now exposed. She looks soft and inviting like this, naked and bare except for the foot tightly wrapped and stretched out in front of her. The piles of furs I pulled off of her are currently propping up her bad foot so it does not touch the ground, and she looks uncomfortable to be without them hiding her. Without the clothes, I can see that her hips are wide and generous, and that fascinating patch of fur between her legs is nearly hidden by her thighs. Her teats are fascinating to me. Without the layers of fur, they do not look like a thick slope. Instead, they are soft and full and sag ever so slightly under their heavy weight. The valley between them is deep, and the tips are a pale pinkish brown. I remember how that tip felt under my hand, how it felt both hard and soft, and I want to touch her again. Why does she hide such big, fascinating teats under a harness and layer upon layer of fur? She should be proud of their size. All the strange females have these teats, but I remember R'ven was small on top. Steph is not small on top.

They must think her glorious.

Perhaps that is why she hides them. She does not wish to make the other females feel like they are less. This makes sense to me. Steff strikes me as the type that would downplay her most appealing features in order to make the other females comfortable. She is kind and thoughtful. But since she is here, naked, I can feast on the sight of her bare, enticing teats as much as I like.

Well, perhaps not too much, I realize, as my sac begins to tighten and draw up with arousal. Perhaps I should stare at other things instead. I try to, but she makes it difficult. "Fi-yurr?"

I frown in her direction, deliberately keeping my gaze on her face. "Eh?"

She rubs her hands together, and her loose teats bob and jiggle in a very distracting way. Then, she holds her hands out as if warming them. "Fi-yurr?"

Oh. She wants a fire. I shake my head. "It is forbidden. Only elders make fire."

She shivers again, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing them to indicate she is cold.

My lips tighten with frustration. I know if I go share my warmth with her, I am going to become painfully erect. Even thinking about it right now is making things…rise. I set my son down. "Go and share heat with her, Pak. I will get water."

I snatch the waterskin and head out of the cave before my cock can get fully erect. I skirt the beach once more, sticking close to the cliffs as I wait for the ache in my cock to subside. By the time I drink my share and refill the skin for them, the throbbing in my blood has calmed. I wanted to stroke my aching length, but that would just make me think about her even more, so I forced myself to stare at the creatures on the beach until my need shriveled. Eyeing enormous tentacle-driven shelled creatures half-buried in the sand that have chased away all the fish? It does a lot to end my need. I return to the cave to see Pak cuddled against Steff's teats, and she looks uncomfortable.

My son immediately perks up at the sight of me. "Papa! You're back. I am keeping Steff warm." He pats Steff on one teat. "Her teats are so big though. Do you think she has kits?"

Steff makes a choked sound in her throat and I go still.

I have been thinking mating thoughts about Steff and it never occurred to me that she might already have a mate and kits. I stare at her teats, at the darker tips, and think about how she rubbed them against me, and adjust my cock. So much for leaving to gain control of myself again. "If she has a mate, he will come after her."

"Nomayt," Steff says, shaking her head. "Nomayt." Her hands creep to her teats and she cups them, as if hiding them from my gaze. "Kinnahaf miklothes?"

"I think she says she does not have a mate," I tell Pak, and I am…strangely glad? Not that I should care. Outcasts take no mate unless resonance happens. If we did resonate, her clan would be furious.

I hate that I like the thought of that very much. I glance over at Steff, but her face is averted and her cheeks oddly pink. She looks embarrassed, though. Because she has no mate? I squat next to her, focusing on her ankle. It is bound tight and a bit of bruised skin peeks out from under the makeshift bandages. I want to touch it to see how it is healing, but I do not like the thought of causing her pain. "How is this?" I ask, gesturing. "Does it hurt?"

She nods, biting her lip.

I gently touch her knee. "Do not put pressure on it. We will stay here for a few more days. There is no need to rush. The creatures outside go nowhere."

Steff gives me a worried look. "Mye trybe. Dey gawna be wurrid."

"You can sit here as long as you need," I reassure her, touching her knee again. Why am I so fascinated with touching her? Is it because she is soft? Because she seems soft all over and I am drawn to that? Because I think about the arousal-scent she had last night when she was lost in the pain-leaves and I want more of that? Reluctantly, I pull my hand away.

Even without a mate, she is not mine to touch. I am Outcast.

Her stomach growls.

It is a good distraction. I jump to my feet and open the basket, pulling out one of the dried fish that she brought. Pak is immediately at my side, his little tail fluttering. "Is it time to eat, Papa?"

"Can you split this fish with Steff?" I ask, holding one out to him.

"Yes. What about you? What will you eat?"

If these shelled ones will be here for a while, it is best that I ration the food. "I will eat tomorrow."

Pak scrambles to sit next to Steff, who just watches me out of the corner of her eye. I know she is not happy with my decision, but she does not understand. As long as Pak is fed, I will be fine. My own empty stomach does not bother me, but Pak's hunger feels like physical pain. I am grateful we have this food so my son is fed. Satisfied, I watch as Pak tears the dried fish apart down the middle and hands half to Steff. Or tries to. The head—the bony part with the tasty bits—remains stuck to one side.

Steff pats Pak's hand when he hesitates and gestures at the head. "Yuueet."

He gives her a look of delight and shoves the head into his mouth, crunching happily on it as she takes the smaller portion. As I watch, she carefully tears the flesh of the fish in half again and then holds it out to me.

"No," I say, my hand going up. "You eat it."

Steff shakes her head and holds it out to me again. "Wesharr." She gestures at it toward me again, indicating I should eat it. Perhaps this is wise. As long as Pak is not hungry, the two of us can share a reduced amount. With a grateful smile to her, I pop the dried fish into my mouth and roll it against my tongue, savoring the taste. She is slower to eat hers, picking at it delicately. When she finishes her meal, I offer her the waterskin and she takes a sip, holding it back out to me, and our fingers brush.

It feels as if those fingers are moving along my cock, I am so attuned to her. She says she has no mate, but I wonder—

"STEFF?"

She jolts in surprise, then clutches at her leg, the movement bothering her. "HINHERRE."

I immediately go to the front of the cave, clutching my knife. Those voices must be from her clan. I hate that they have arrived so quickly, but I am not surprised. She is a valuable, desirable female. Of course they have chased after her. I head out into the rocks, signaling that Pak should stay back by Steff. It will be easier for me to guard them both this way.

A male is moving along the rocky edges of the cliffs, hopping down from one large rock to another. He is a strange golden color, his mane puffy like Pak's but of an entirely different color. One of his arms is bandaged and held tight to his chest by leather straps, but it looks as if it does not bother him much. He moves across the tumble of rocks, steering clear of the beach, and stops the moment he sees me.

"Uaave Steff?" he asks.

I glare at him. He does not look like any clan I am familiar with, yet he is not Outcast. I have seen this male with the others on the beach. They all welcome him. He is not human, though. As he gets closer, I see a pattern on his skin, like that of a kaari back on the warm island.

I do not trust this. Or him.

The kaari-male tries to look behind me when I do not answer. "STEFF?"

"Hinheer," Steff calls again, her voice plaintive. "Brohkmah hankle! Zatchoo Ashtar?"

"Smee," he says, giving me a wary look as he takes another step forward. "Doan think haim welcum."

"Juth?" Steff calls out. "Juth? Sokay. Eeessa fren."

She calls for me. Even if it means nothing, it still makes me proud. I stand a little straighter, giving the male another warning look. My hand remains on my knife as I duck inside the cave again and move to Pak and Steff's side. This is bad. If the other clans know where our cave is, we will have to move. Nothing that Outcast clan has is sacred. If they know we have food and they are out, they will take it from us. If they know Steff is here, they will steal her away. Outcast clan is allowed to keep nothing at all.

We cannot stay here now. It is another complication I do not need.

Steff grabs at my hands the moment I crouch next to her. "Juth," she says, clasping them. "Juth, eesa fren." She gestures at the cave entrance. "Ashtar fren." When the male appears, she gestures at him. "Ashtar."

"Duzee not unnerstan us?" the golden male asks.

She shakes her head and taps her ear. "No tranz later."

He makes an annoyed sound that raises my hackles. "Pain inda keffin ass." He lifts his chin. "Issa good luuk furyew, nekkid."

Steff makes an outraged sound. Immediately, I break free from her grasp and pull my knife. Does he insult her? I will kill him to protect her--

"No," Steff gasps. "Juth, no. Essa fren! Ashtar!"

The male taps his bare golden chest with his good arm. "Ashtar."

It is a name. Not a clan name, but not an Outcast name, either. I do not trust it, or him, and I simply narrow my eyes, waiting. Steff tugs on me again, and because I wish to make her happy, I crouch next to her once more. They begin to talk, faster than I can follow, and I watch them gesticulate. She keeps her hand on my arm, rubbing it gently, and…I like that. I like that she is being possessive with me in front of this male. Does it mean she wishes to stay with us? To become Outcast clan alongside us?

My heart warms at the thought. Maybe if her clan is gone…

The male gestures at his bad arm, talking rapidly, and then back at the direction he came from. Steff shakes her head, spitting more rapid words at him and indicating her ankle. Then they look at me and she gestures at her ear before they talk some more.

I suspect they are talking about the pebble in the ear. Are they going to give me a pebble, too? I wait, but no one brings one for me.

The male gives her an unhappy look, gesturing again at the far end of the beach. It is clear he does not like leaving her with me. Steff shakes her head again and gestures at her leg, then rubs my arm once more. She is choosing me. She is staying with me. I give the male a triumphant look, but he ignores it.

Instead, he takes his leather skirt off his hips and holds it out.

A growl surges in my throat. Is he trying to steal my female out from under me? But he averts his eyes and I notice that when he talks to Steff, he deliberately does not look at her, as if he should not. As if her teats spilling out bother him. As if she is not beautiful with all her glory exposed.

He is a fool, then.

Steff gestures at the leather he holds out, and when I snatch it from the male's hand, she practically claws it out of mine and settles it over her lap. Ah. Clothes.

The male says some more things, then gestures at his ear once more, then at the sky. "Tmorroh mawrn," he says. "Yewll be hokay untilden?"

Steff makes a sound of reassurance and strokes my arm once more.

The male leaves and…I am glad. She has chosen to be with me. She is one of us, now. This fills me with a fierce, ugly joy. I know the rules say that no Outcast may take a mate, but this is one rule I think I will break gladly.

Because I have decided that Steff is mine.

14

STEPH

I 'm so relieved to see Ashtar that I don't even mind that I'm horrifically naked and nursing a broken ankle. Well, okay, I mind a little, but I'm glad Ashtar does his best to avert his gaze so I'm not incredibly uncomfortable. I know he's not interested in what I look like. He's absolutely head-over-heels for his mate. It's my own personal shame at my appearance that makes me feel awkward. My thighs are thick, my boobs are heavy and un-perky and I know I'm not an attractive sort of naked. I have stomach rolls and cellulite dimples and stretch marks. I'm thrilled when Ashtar—who doesn't mind being naked—whips off his kilt and offers it to me to wear. Now if I can just convince Juth that I need my doubled-up breast-band back, I'll feel sufficiently clothed again.

When Ashtar leaves, I let out a heavy sigh. "God, I'm glad to see him."

Juth watches the entrance of the cave, not leaving it, and I get the impression he's guarding us. That he'll shove Ashtar back out onto the sands if he tries to come back. I wonder if it's jealousy or just more Outcast mannerisms I'm not grasping the full import of?

"Ashtar's a friend," I say to Juth, even though he can't understand me. "He's a good guy. He just came to tell me that everyone's all right. They had a few injuries and most of the huts are trashed, but everyone's okay." I'm just so relieved to hear that, too. I think about all the couples and the little babies and my friends and the thought of losing even one of them feels like a punch in the gut. They really do feel like my family. After losing both my parents early on in life, I don't think I'm ready to lose anyone else. Maybe it's one reason why I fight so hard for Pak and Juth to join us.

I need to keep everyone around me. Everyone.

I shift my weight, because my backside is bruised from my fall, and wince when it sends a shot of pain up my leg. My ankle is killing me, but I only need to put up with it a little longer. Veronica's overwhelmed at the beach with small injuries, according to Ashtar. The worst is Elly, who got hit in the head with a falling beam in their hut, and then Bek nearly lost his mind when his mate was hurt and attacked anyone that tried to get between him and the healer. I told Ashtar I could wait until tomorrow or the day after, or even longer, really. I'm not a huntress. I can sit by the fire and mend clothes and weave nets as easily with a broken ankle. It's just…kinda painful.

"He'll be back tomorrow," I say for Juth's benefit as much as mine. "With Mardok and a translator. And they're going to help me back to the other camp. I hope you'll join us when we go." I smile brightly at him. "I know things are weird right now, but we'd love to have you."

Juth finally stalks away from the cave entrance, and he touches my leg gently, mindful of my ankle. "Does this pain you greatly?"

I wiggle my hand in a so-so indication. "It doesn't feel good." Even moving slightly makes me break out in a cold sweat of pain. "But I only have to put up with it for another day or so. It's all right. The healer will get me. I'm just lucky it wasn't more than that." Poor Elly—not only is she insanely pregnant but she got hit in the head. Bek must be losing his mind. I wish I was there to help defuse things. If ever the beach tribe needed a therapist, it's now.

And here I am, talking to two outcasts that don't understand a word I say…and words are my specialty. I bite back a sigh.

THE DAY DRIFTS by painfully slowly. There's nothing to do but sit in the cave. We can't really talk to each other. Or rather, they can talk to me, but I can't get Juth and Pak to understand my words, so conversation tends to be halting. There are no chores, either. No food to preserve, no leather to sew, no baskets to weave from dried seaweed. For the first time in what feels like forever, I have a day to just sit around and relax and it's absolutely miserable. It doesn't help that my ankle is throbbing, or that my backside aches. It's cold and there's no fire, no blankets, no comforts of any kind.

How do they stand it? How did the other clans on the island think that this is okay? It just further emphasizes how vulnerable Pak and Juth are. I'm determined—now more than ever—to get them to join us.

I just have to make it through the day and everything will be better tomorrow. I tell myself this as I lie flat on the uncomfortable rocks and rub my arms to chase away the goosebumps. When Pak starts to play with the discarded straps of my breast-bands, I feel like I can't exactly ask for them back. They have so little, after all. They can have a bit more leather. It's just nudity, I tell myself. Pak and Juth are naked, save for Juth's belt. And Pak has no toys that I can see. He just picks up a few rocks and plays with the leather and entertains himself. He's a good kid. He just deserves more than playing with a few rocks.

So I try to ignore how loose and uncomfortable it is having my boobs hanging free. I carefully turn onto my side and use my arm as a pillow, and catnap throughout the day. I wake up now and then to sit up and sip some water, but there's no food since we're conserving supplies, and we can't go out. The bellows of the creatures on the beach tell me that they're still there, even without me exiting the cave to see them. We're more or less stuck.

Between Juth making a few trips to get more water, there's not much to do. I play rock games with Pak, and we try to stack pebbles higher than the other person. It makes him giggle happily, and as far as afternoons go, if I ignore that I'm in pain, hungry, and trapped in a cave? It's kinda nice.

Night brings a fresh round of cold air and more lowing sounds from the creatures outside. I shoot Juth a worried look but he just shakes his head. "They are burying themselves deeper in the sand."

I wonder why. Devi would know, but she's on the other side of the beach.

Eventually Pak curls up against my back, petting my hair and holding onto a strand of it as he goes to sleep. It melts my heart, and I wonder if he feels lonely. I think of my own childhood, playing quietly or reading books so I wouldn't disturb my sick mother. I remember how alone I felt, and I want Pak to play with the other children so badly. He deserves to run around and scream and be silly with other kids his age. I'll have to talk to Juth about it later.

Tomorrow, when he gets the translator implanted. The thought of it is incredibly exciting. We're going to be able to have real conversations, him and I. They won't be one sided like they are now. I'm looking forward to that more than anything, and I bite my lip with anticipation. The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner the new day begins. So, curled up on my side, I pat the stone floor next to me and indicate Juth should join us.

His color ripples, as if he's about to shift into camouflage, but then he gets to his feet and crosses the cave, moving to my side. Even though it's shadowy with dusk in the cave, I can still make out that he's aroused, his cock stiffening. Oh. Is he taking my invitation as, well…an invitation?

Do I need to clear that up?

Do I want to?

He lies down next to me, stretching out his big body, and then turns to face me. He mimics my pose, tucking one arm under his head, and when his wild, unkempt hair moves to the side, I catch sight of a nub, dark and solid, lost in his hair. Oh. It's a horn. I reach out and brush my fingers over it, smiling at him. "I didn't know you had this."

Juth gazes down at my chest, and then he reaches out and caresses my breast, running his thumb over the tip.

I suck in a breath, my eyes going wide in surprise. Does he think it's open season to touch one another? Probably so, because I just reached out and grabbed at his horns without asking permission. That's my fault, I realize. I know the sa-khui don't have breasts quite like humans do, so I imagine mine are a source of fascination for him like his horns are for me. I swallow hard, trying not to let my shock show on my face, because I don't want him to think there's a problem.

If he wants to touch me and learn about humans, it's cool. I'm cool with it. Totally cool.

His thumb rubs over my nipple, back and forth, and he watches, his expression impossible to read, as my nipple hardens and grows tight under his ministrations. I'm feeling decidedly un-teacher-ish, too. His caress is sending curls of heat through my body and reminding me that although my last and longest relationship was with a woman, I really, really like men, too. And it's been a while since anyone touched me.

Juth pets my breast, teasing the nipple to a hard, aching point, and then running his fingers up and down the slope as if he can't get enough of touching me. "You are so very soft," he whispers, voice low. "Sometimes I cannot imagine such softness exists, but then I touch you, and it feels real." His fingers slide away from my breast and move down my arm, the caress of a lover, not someone just curious about human anatomy. "It makes me wonder why you hide away under all the furs, when you are so beautiful without them."

Oh.

He…thinks I'm beautiful? Me? I think the most common adjectives to describe me have always been “dependable” and “friendly” or “solid.” Never “beautiful.” I've always been fine with that, too. I'm comfortable in my skin and who I am. But my skin breaks out in fresh goosebumps when his fingers move to the curve of my hip and hot excitement ripples through me, leaving me aching and full of need as he gazes at me in wonder.

In his eyes, I really do feel beautiful. Juth looks at me as if I'm the most amazing thing he's ever seen. It's the way besotted A'tam looks at Bridget, or Bek looks at Elly. It's the way Ashtar grins down at Veronica and how U'dron watches Raven when she picks up her tambourine. It's utterly and completely addictive, too. When he traces a finger along the curve of my stomach and leans closer, I feel drunk on his attention. I could bask in this forever and never get enough.

Juth leans in, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. Yes, yes, yes.

"Steff," he murmurs. "I can smell your arousal."

My eyes widen and I'm embarrassed. I bite my lip, wondering if I've misread the situation. Is he just trying to learn about boobs after all, then? Am I the one that's taking things to the wrong place? Oh god, how embarrassing. Looks like the first thing I'm going to be doing when he gets his translator in is apologizing. I give his chest an apologetic little pat, wishing the ground would swallow me up. I can't get up and leave to get away, either. This is horrifying. I close my eyes, take a steeling breath, and then turn onto my back, intending to roll over and face Pak, since I'm sandwiched between them as we sleep to share body heat.

Before I can, Juth grabs my hand. He tugs me toward him again, his gaze flicking down at my foot, and then he puts my hand back on his jaw. He nuzzles against my palm, his eyes full of heat, and scrapes his teeth against my skin. "Do not go. I did not say that to frighten you. I like your scent."

I rub my fingers along his jaw, touching him. I wonder if he's starved for touch. If he likes me just because I'm the only woman that's ever paid attention to him. That thought dampens my ardor a little bit, but I also remind myself that just because this is new doesn't make it him settling for me. I've quizzed Raven about her interactions with the two Outcasts over and over again, and Juth never showed sexual interest in her. She told me she felt like leverage, nothing more.

I definitely don't feel like leverage right now. I feel…seen. Special. Sexy.

He presses his face against my hand, and the soft, downy hair of his jaw rubs against my skin. I expected the fluff along his chin to feel prickly like most beards, but it's soft, softer than the hair on his head. I touch his forearm, comparing the thick hair there, and it's similar. How odd but endearing. I like it, I decide.

Juth closes his eyes, rubbing his face against my hand. "I do not know how to please a female, Steff. I have no experience with these things. I want to learn, though. I like your smell when you are aroused. I like your softness. I like your teats and the way your eyes shine when I touch them." He licks the sensitive skin at the center of my palm, and fresh desire rushes through me. "I…Outcast clan is not allowed to take mates unless resonance chooses for us."

Ah. So even before, when he had a clan, he was not allowed to touch or experience pleasure. The thought makes me sad. I want to touch him all over, to make him feel good. It's feeding that part of me that likes to be the hero, I think, but I don't even care. I brush my thumb over his lips, and when he parts them and nips at my fingertip, it sends a bolt of pure lust through my body that decides me.

It's just sex. I'm an adult, unresonated and without a partner. I'm allowed to have sex. I'm allowed to touch who I want, pleasure who I want. Right now, there's nothing more that I'd like than to pleasure Juth and to give him affection. So I move a little closer, focused on his mouth, and whisper, "I want to kiss you."

His movements follow mine, his eyes soft, and he skims his fingers over my cheeks. "I do not know your words."

Right. Of course. I lean forward and press my lips against his, figuring that demonstration works as well as anything else. Juth goes still against me and I can practically sense the wheels turning in his mind. He's trying to figure out if he likes this or not. His mouth remains firm underneath mine, so I kiss and nibble at his lips, trying to get him to loosen up. I take his lower lip in mine and tug on it with my teeth, then lick the small bite away, and I feel him shudder against me. That, he likes, at least.

Juth's big, warm hand steals back to my breast and he continues to tease it, toying with the nipple as I kiss him. I moan against his mouth and he stiffens, lifting his head to look over at Pak. Shit. Right. I've got a kid sleeping at my back. How do parents do this sort of thing? I put a finger to my lips, indicating I'll be quieter, and Juth tugs me back toward him, his hand moving over my breasts again. He really is fascinated by them, and I like that. It makes me feel even more alluring, even though I'm not exactly at my sexiest right now. I brush my lips over his again, and when his part ever-so-slightly, I graze my tongue against his mouth. I can feel his breath stutter, and I do it again, until he relaxes and then we can kiss fully. I tease him with small, toying licks of my tongue against his, and I can feel the heat of him burning against my belly. God, his cock is enormous and I can't wait to put my hands all over it. I slide one palm down his chest, grazing over his nipple, but it doesn't elicit much of a reaction. Considering that his hands on my breasts makes me absolutely crazy with lust, I conclude that they're not sensitive and skim lower, reaching for his cock.

Fuck subtlety, after all.

Juth lets out a soft, startled gasp as I grip his cock. It's fascinated me for days, if I'm being honest with myself. Fat and thick and plump, and reacting to my nearness. I've wanted to touch him for days now, ever since he smiled at me, and this is my chance. I wrap my fingers around the base of him, marveling at how thick he is. Like, this is unfair to my vagina, but it excites me with the sheer size of the damn thing. He's going to have to work to cram this monster into my body and it will be utterly glorious when he does, and I can't wait. I'm already planning it, I decide.

But first, me and my hands have a date with his cock tonight.

I stroke him with the fingertips of one hand while the other grips the base of his shaft. My arms are pushed tight together, my boobs squeezed between us, and he palms one of my breasts even as I begin to pump his cock. His eyes become slits, his breath stuttering over my face, his mouth parted inches away from my own. I want to keep kissing him, but I need the leverage between us, because I can't move my legs without hurting my foot. At least this way, I get to watch his face. I bite my lip as I stroke him, squeezing and working his length with my hand, making sure to give a little special attention to the head of his cock with every tug. His hands move all over me, frantic, as if he doesn't know what to do with himself while I touch him.

"I have you," I whisper, my voice pitched low so we don't wake Pak. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

He buries his face against my neck, his hips bucking against my grip. I work him harder, pausing only to lick my hand to add lubrication so my strokes don't get too dry. I don't have to worry about that for long, though. Juth's cock leaks so much pre-cum as I stroke him that soon I'm covered in his stickiness, and he pumps his hips against my hands, his movements growing more desperate with every moment that passes.

I let him clutch me, his breath hot on my skin, and he pounds harder into my grip. I'm no longer in control of the hand-job. I just let him fuck my hand, squeezing my grip around him when I can. His fingers dig into my upper arms and then heat spurts across my belly. Juth's body stiffens and he makes a soft, choked sound as he comes, making a mess all over my stomach and thighs.

By the time he finishes, I'm just as out of breath as he is, but so, so pleased. He trembles as he lifts his head to look at me, and then pushes his mouth against mine in the sweetest, most unexperienced kiss ever.

I've never felt sexier.

15

JUTH

M y female takes my breath away.

She touched me. Gave me pleasure. Held me while I came.

It is incredible to think I have a mate now. That I offered myself to her and she took me for her own. It is not something I ever imagined when we arrived on this cold shore. I thought that Pak and I would struggle to survive until one of us succumbed to the elements. I never imagined…a mate.

Yet I have been so foolish. Has she not made her interest plain with her constant gifts? They were courting gifts, I see that now. I do not know why I did not realize it before. I thought she felt pity for us, that she was feeding us and bringing us clothes and supplies because she thought I could not take care of my son. But…it was just Steff showing me that she can be a good mate. She was proving herself to me with kindness and sweet actions.

And I, fool that I am, was completely blind to this until she put her mouth on mine.

She wants a mate. For some reason, she has chosen me. Courted me. Put me above all others. I do not know why—because she has an Outcast name and feels close to us, perhaps. Or perhaps R'ven spoke highly of us. It does not matter. All I know is that she makes me happy. She brings me joy and makes me eager to see the suns rise the next morning.

A mate. I want to laugh with the sheer joy of it.

I rub my face against hers as she gives me a soft look, and then I scramble to my feet. My seed is all over her skin and I need to clean her off, to take care of her. As I look around the cave, though, I realize how little we have. Pak is independent and hardy. He is like me, used to doing a lot with very little. Steff, however, is fragile. She is cold often. She breaks her bones easily. She needs things.

I pick up a scrap of leather and return to her side, pleased that she reaches out to touch me even as I clean her off. I can still smell her arousal, and I want to bury my face between her thighs and discover the source of it, but I do not wish to harm her leg. It has pained her greatly today, and I do not want to hurt my mate.

All I want to do is please her.

Once her skin is clean of my seed, I offer her the waterskin, but she shakes her head. I drink, gulping down a great amount because I feel incredible. In this moment, I can take on a handful of the enormous shelled creatures outside. Two handfuls. Four. I will take on an entire island of them if that is what I need to do to make Steff safe. I set the waterskin aside for my son to finish in the morning, check over his sleeping form, and then lie down next to my new mate again. I itch to drag her into my arms and lick every bit of exposed skin, but…her leg. I must be patient. She needs time to heal.

I nuzzle at her neck again, though, and slide a hand to her full teats, because I love touching them. Her breath stutters and her arousal scent grows thick once more, and it occurs to me that I did not give her the same pleasure that she gave me. "Can I touch you?" I ask, aching with the need to do just that. "Or will it hurt you if I pleasure you?"

Steff makes a low sound in her throat and takes my hand off her teat, pushing it between her thighs instead. She is wet here, to my surprise, and when I touch her, the arousal-scent floods the cave so thickly that I worry Pak will wake up and smell it.

Even so, I do not think I can stop. "I need to touch you," I whisper. "Show me how to make you feel good. Like you did me."

Steff nods, guiding my hand. She places it between her thighs, so deliciously plump that they cradle my fingers as I caress her. I explore her skin with light touches. She has soft, slick folds between her legs that trap heat, and I wonder where in here my cock is supposed to go. I know the basic functions of mating, but I have never had a chance to experience it for myself. The thought of doing so with Steff—my mate—makes my cock twitch again. I run my fingertips through those folds, seeking out an entrance—

Pak stirs in his sleep, mumbling, and then turns over, pressing his cheek to Steff's side.

Her eyes are wide. We share a look, and then I ease my fingers away from her wet, warm cunt. I cannot exactly pleasure my mate with my child clinging to her side. She nods at me in silent agreement, then reaches out and caresses my cheek as if in apology. As if she has anything to apologize for.

Next time we touch, I decide, I will make her come first. Not just once. Several times. I cannot wait to see it, to experience it. To taste it. Since I can no longer explore her safely without waking Pak, I raise my hand to my mouth and lick my fingers…and groan at the taste. It tastes exactly like she smells—musky and unique and incredible.

She presses a finger to my lips, smiling. "Shh. Tmorroh."

I wish I understood her. Soon, I promise myself. I will find something for Pak to do to keep him occupied, and then I will learn all of my mate's softest parts with my tongue.

"PAPA?" Pak yawns the next morning, a chunk of dried fish in his small fist.

"Mmm?" I stare at Steff, a male obsessed. She delicately eats her fish with small bites—after giving me the largest share once more. I think about those fingers as they danced over my cock. I watch her eat, her tongue darting out to brush over her pink lips. It is all very…distracting.

"It smells funny in the cave this morning." His nose twitches. "Both you and Steff smell funny."

Steff goes still. She looks over at me, and her cheeks are pink.

I try to pick through the scents, but all I smell is the wonderful aroma of Steff's arousal lingering in the air. "It is nothing, my son. Eat your food."

Pak shrugs and goes back to his fish, and Steff brushes my knee with her small finger, an intimate little touch that reminds me that we are together now. We are a pair. It makes me…happy.

I have been thinking about “us” all night, too. I could not sleep, so I held Steff against me, sharing my warmth, and as I did, I thought about the future. I thought about a hut. We will need a better place to sleep, because Steff cannot live like this. We will need ready supplies—food, water, leather. We will need fire, since I am not allowed to make it and Steff shivers with cold.

I hate the thought, but I wonder if we must join the clans gathered on the beach after all. It is not my first choice. Outsiders are never welcome…but my mate needs the best and I need my mate. Pak needs her, too. He is happy when she is around, and all he talks about are her gifts and when we will see her again. He needs a mother as well as a father, and I like the thought of our small family around a fire each night, sharing food and living together companionably. Pak needs other children to play with as well, and the gathered clans can provide that.

Even if I must endure the others, I will. Not just for my son, but for my mate.

It feels…good. Having a mate feels good. Right. I cannot stop smiling, just like my cock cannot stop rising at the thought of touching her again. It makes for a very odd morning. Steff puts on the length of leather the male gave her yesterday, but it does not quite fit right and hangs open over one thigh. She takes her straps back from Pak and makes a harness over her teats again, hiding them away from the world and I am reminded of how soft they felt last night in my hands, and how much she squirmed when I touched her.

I need to do that again. Soon.

The golden male returns later in the day, babbling his words. He brings with him a male that is a deep blue, his horns curiously shiny and his arms covered in black markings. I study him, trying to determine which clan he falls into, and then decide that he is no clan, just like me. Just like Steff. I know that there are others without the clan markers in their group, but it is strange to see yet another this close, a male who does not resemble Shadow Cat or Strong Arm. Perhaps Tall Horn, but his shiny, shiny horns are all wrong. It is just…strange.

The newcomer taps his chest. "Mardok."

I glance over at Steff, uneasy. Is this meant to be M'dok or is he an Outcast? She just comes to my side and touches my hand, smiling. She talks a steady stream to them, occasionally patting my arm. When Pak goes to her side, she pulls him into her arms and tickles him, which makes him giggle.

Mardok pulls out something that looks long and shiny, like his horns, and has a very pointy end. He gestures at the pointy tip, then at my ear, and then his mouth. He does this over and over again, and when Steff does too, I realize what they are telling me. This sharp thing goes in my ear. It will put the pebble there and then I will hear their words.

I am…skeptical of this, but U'dron said it to be the truth. Steff gives me another encouraging nod, my hand tight in hers, and as they look at me, waiting, I gesture for them to put this pointy thing in my ear. If it is dangerous, I will not let Pak get it, though. I will protect him.

But I trust Steff. I watch her as the male moves behind me and rubs something wet behind my ear. I try not to frown as a hot pinch happens, sending a stab of pain through the back of my head.

"Sworkin?" Steff breathes, glancing back and forth from the males to me. "Can he understand us?"

My ear twinges again, and I rub it. I have a headache, but it is not the worst I have endured. "I can understand you, yes."

Steff's eyes light up with excitement. "Wonderful!" She squeezes my hand and then gives me a shy look. "Hi there."

I grin at her, loving the bashful expression on her face. "Hello, my mate."

16

STEPH

O h. His mate.

Not pleasure mate. Mate.

I think we've had a miscommunication somewhere. I've fucked up. I keep smiling, even as Pak gets the translator and then bursts into tears because it hurts. He clings to Juth's shoulders and he soothes his son, rubbing his back, while Mardok and Ashtar look abashed. "I hate that we hurt the kid," Mardok says. "It's just a twinge, but I guess it feels like more when you're little."

Pak turns around and sniffs, his expression angry. "I am not little!"

"You are a strong, fierce hunter," Juth agrees, tousling his pale hair. "And now the pain is over and you can say a greeting to Steff."

I beam at him, my mind racing a mile a minute. At what point do I pull Juth aside and explain we've somehow crossed wires and I'm not his mate? That we were just fooling around and having a good time? That I got carried away and forgot that these guys think a hand-job means forever mating?

This is…awkward. I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt Juth's feelings—especially not in front of the others. How is it that I'm the one that prides herself on being able to talk my way through any situation and I find myself here?

"Is it all right to talk to the others, Papa?" Pak asks in a whisper.

Juth nods. "I have decided."

"Uh, this is great and all but…mate?" Mardok asks, glancing over at me. "You two resonated?"

Juth's expression changes to one of barely reined-in anger. He steps in front of me, and his tail practically batters my face. "We did not resonate. We have chosen to mate."

"Happy for you both," Mardok says mildly, shooting a glance over at me.

I just bite my lip. I can handle things with Juth, but it'll have to be in private so he doesn't feel embarrassed.

Ashtar claps Juth on the shoulder, all smiles. "This means you will be joining our tribe, then? You can't stay out here alone. Not with a young son and a mate to take care of."

"Oh, I don't think—" I begin, hating that Ashtar is putting Juth on the spot over something that's a sensitive subject with him.

To my surprise, Juth nods. "We are joining if we are invited, yes. This has shown me that we cannot be a clan of two. We need more people." He looks at me, a soft expression on his face. "We would not have made it without Steff and her gifts of food. She has shown me that a clan is not always bad. That even if we are Outcasts, we will still be fed. I do not think Shadow Cat will like us there."

I shake my head, wanting to get to my feet, but I'm held down by my stupid ankle. "There's no clans anymore. There's only one tribe. We all look different. We are all from different walks of life, but we're making a home on this beach, all of us." I reach out for his hand. "And we would love it if you join us, Juth."

He nods, looking at me with such pride and excitement that I feel just a wee bit trapped. Isn't this what I wanted? For Juth and Pak to join the tribe? For them to become part of our group? Except I didn't realize he would think we're mates. I don't like deceiving him, but what can I do? If I tell him we're not, is he going to take Pak and just leave?

Why does that terrify me so? I know if I say anything about how we're not really mates, or he didn't ask properly, or if I feel as if I haven't had a chance to process this, Juth is going to get upset and leave. Just grab his son and never look back. And since that's the last thing I want, I guess I'm mated for now.

Oh boy. This is a lot. I feel slightly panicky, because it's like I suddenly hold Juth and Pak's happiness—and survival—in my hands and I didn't even realize it.

"Steff?" Juth sets his son down next to me and touches my arm. "Are you in pain? You look upset."

I force a smile to my face. "I'm fine. I'll manage." I look over at Ashtar, grateful for the distraction of focusing on him instead. Yesterday, the big dragon-man had his arm bandaged and held to his chest. Today, he wears no bandages. "Did Veronica heal you? Or do we need to stay here another day or two in order to give her a chance to rest up? I don't want to burden her."

Ashtar works his arm, grinning. "Almost good as new. I told my mate it could wait but she would not relax until she knew I was perfect once more." He winks in my direction. "She forgets I am always perfect."

I snort with amusement at that.

"You have a healer?" Juth asks, eyes narrowing.

"My mate," Ashtar agrees, pride in his voice. "She has been very busy since the shell-beasts landed on the shore."

"But everyone's all right?" I ask, worried.

"Other than a few scares and bumps, yes." Mardok wraps his translator gun in a soft cloth and tucks it back into the case he has slung over his shoulder. "We got very lucky. People are rattled but overall fine."

I nod, my mind racing. I'll have to take time and try to sit with everyone in the tribe one on one and see how they're feeling about things. People are going to need to talk it out, and that's one thing I can offer, at least. I should start with the ones that struggle with adapting the most, I decide. The ones without a built-in support network—aka, a mate. That means Flor and Sam and Daisy. I'rec and O'jek and R'jaal. I'll have to think of ways to talk to them without making it seem like a confrontation. The unmated males will be thornier, I think. They won't want to discuss feelings—

"Will you rebuild?" Juth asks. "Or will you abandon this place?"

"No one's really talked about that yet," Mardok admits. "Or if they have, it hasn't been amongst the greater tribe. We wanted everyone back first, and the last day or so has been just getting people settled. Kits and new mothers in the caves, and everyone else salvaging what they can without disturbing the creatures."

Juth grunts. "My old clansmates—the other Outcasts—they had stories about these creatures. We were warned to leave the beaches for a turn of the moon when the sands turned red. Now we know why."

Mardok nods. "A migration, yes. Devi mentioned that. We'll talk about it more back at camp." He gestures at me. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Oh. Um." Walking seems like a very, very long ordeal when I can't even stand on my foot, but I don't want to be seen as a wimp. I want to hold my own and be strong, like Nadine and Penny and Lauren, who hunt with the rest of the men. Ashtar can fly, but considering he's here wearing pants and boots and walking with Mardok instead of flying, I'm guessing his wing isn't as great as he lets on. Riding back to camp is out. "I'm sure I can manage—"

"No, you will not manage," Juth interrupts. "You are my mate. I will carry you."

"You will?" My voice sounds shaky, high-pitched. I'm not a small woman. "I'm not sure—"

Pak bounces with excitement. "I can walk. Can I walk? I promise not to step too close to the creatures!"

Juth looks uncertain, his need to tend to his son warring with his need to hover over me. "I can carry you both."

Ashtar gets down on one knee. "Or you can ride my shoulders," he says to Pak. "It will help me practice for when my son gets older. His mane is the same color as yours. Did you know that?" He reaches out and ruffles Pak's pale hair. "But his name is much, much longer than yours for all that he's a tiny thing."

"What's his name?" Pak asks, eyes wide.

"He told me it's Katamneas."

"He told you?"

"Sure did. Drakoni children come with their own names." He grabs Pak and swings him high into the air, settling him over his shoulders in one easy motion. "But he's not nearly as big a boy as you are. You're practically a hunter already!"

"I am!" Pak declares.

The two gallop out of the cave, Pak's laughter ringing out. Mardok turns to me, then glances at Juth. He nods at the entrance of the cave. "I'll just wait outside and make sure Ashtar and Pak don't piss off the creatures while they're trying to sleep. Call me if you need me."

"Thank you—"

"We do not need you," Juth says, voice unfriendly. He stands even closer to me, which makes things awkward, because he's still naked as could be and I'm waist height with a balls-eye view.

I give Mardok a bright smile of apology, because he's a really nice guy for all that he looks a little rough and tumble with his tattoos and cybernetic parts. I'm not used to anyone being possessive over me, and it's strange and uncomfortable, even if a little tiny part of me deep inside is squealing with delight. Juth still has issues with trust, and it's going to take a while for those to fade. When he gets to know the others, he'll realize how lovely everyone in the tribe is.

Well, except I'rec, maybe. But there's always one in the bunch, and there's bound to be a reason behind I'rec's general unpleasantness. I just haven't unpacked it yet. Truly, though, most everyone is just wonderful and pitches in to help one another. I want Juth to realize that everyone is family. That we help one another. That even the most useless person on the beach gets fed and is loved for who they are. No one asks for people to do more than they can. Everyone does their fair share, or tries to. Daisy is probably the laziest on the beach despite her initial bursts of enthusiasm, but she's not truly lazy. She just thinks her value is in sitting around and looking pretty, so she spends a lot of time focusing on that.

I've never exactly given much thought to looking pretty and now here I am, mated to an Outcast who's being possessive over me. It's a little mind-boggling…and flattering.

Juth reaches down and brushes his hand over my cheek. "Are you ready? I will take you home."

"I can try to walk," I protest. I feel like I should at least attempt it. I'm not a skinny thing. Even a year of beach living has just made me into a more solid, muscled chunk of a woman instead of a svelte type. It's just who I am and I'm fine with it…as long as someone's not offering to carry me.

He snorts, as if I'm saying ridiculous things. "I carried you before. Do you not remember?"

"Well, but you were fueled by adrenaline. It's different."

"It is no different," Juth says, and bends over, putting a hand behind my knees and an arm on my back, and then he's lifting me into the air as if I weigh no more than Pak. I inwardly flinch, expecting him to throw out his back, but he just shifts my weight in his arms and casts me a triumphant look. "As if you are too heavy."

"I am for human men," I point out.

"Then it is a good thing I am not hyoo-man."

I cling to his neck. Maybe so. Maybe I'm just overthinking everything. I have a mate now, and he's strong enough to carry me. What could go wrong?

THE LITTLE SETTLEMENT of Icehome is utterly decimated.

Just a few days ago, the beach was dotted with huts and tents. Some of them were for storage, but most were for dwellings. Our beach looked like a cozy village, dotted with hide roofs over wooden or stone walls, and the longhouse stood in the center of the beach as a meeting place, though all of us still like to head over to the main fire and just chitchat around bowls of food. It felt comfortable, though. Homey, for all that it's a crude settlement on a beach.

Now, when I gaze out on the beach as Juth carries me, I see nothing but tentacles and sand hills. I see broken fragments of precious wood where there was once a hut. I see scattered scraps, all that remain of painstakingly pieced-together hide roofs. Worse than all of it, I don't see the friendly fire that always burns on the beach, where everyone gathers and laughs and shares shrimp tea. There's a hill right over that spot, and a tentacle waving in the air.

The sight of it lodges a knot in my throat.

The knot grows bigger as we approach, too. The sounds of laughter and people moving about their day normally covers the beach, and even from far away you can usually hear someone talking forcibly about their opinion on fishing with spears versus nets. Today, it's so quiet the only thing I hear is the sound of the waves and the occasional groan of one of the creatures.

It makes me hold on that much tighter to Juth.

He must sense my unease, because he leans toward me, just a little, and offers, "It will be all right. If no one is hurt, they will rebuild and things will be as they were before."

"It's just hard." My voice is soft. "This is the second home I've lost now." Immediately I realize what I'm saying and feel ashamed. Juth has lost his home now, too, and he is handling this better than me. "You've lost yours, too."

Juth just shakes his head. "It was not my home. I had no attachment to it. It was just a place to hunt."

This surprises me a little. Most people feel some sort of attachment to the place they consider “home.” "Even back on the island?"

He glances down at me. "It was where we were forced to stay. We were not allowed on the good hunting grounds. We were told we must stay on the outlying islands, where there was little to eat but fish and roots. And then when the Great Smoking Mountain erupted, we expected them to come take our lands. Every time hunting was bad in the past, a clan would arrive to claim our lands as theirs."

I'm appalled. "That's horrible."

"We are Outcast. To the others, we are not true people. We are problems." His gaze goes to Pak, and I can see the fatherly affection on his expression as he watches Ashtar race up the sands with the small boy on his shoulders. "If they are not kind to my son, I warn you, we will leave. I can tolerate their cruel remarks and coldness to me, but I will not have anyone be cruel to Pak."

I don't think anyone will be awful to them, but I understand what he's saying. He's protecting his kid. "Of course. I'd miss you if you left, though."

He frowns. "I meant you, too. You are my mate. I would go nowhere without you."

That knot in my throat grows bigger. Now is the perfect time for me to gently point out to Juth that I didn't kiss him with the intention of declaring myself as his mate. That I just kissed him because I liked it, and I liked him. That I didn't realize he thought it was more and I'm misleading him. "Juth," I say softly. "Wait a moment. We need to talk—"

Just then, Pak lets out a screech of terror, and Juth's camouflage flares. He gets a panicked look on his face, and I suspect it takes everything he has not to fling me down onto the ground. He staggers, frantic. "PAK."

"Papa!"

"Set me down," I say quickly. "It's okay."

He does, plopping me into the sand where we were walking, and I try not to wince at the reverberation it sends up my ankle, because I know he didn't mean it. I watch, worried, as Juth snatches Pak out of Ashtar's arms, the little boy crying and terrified. He grips his son tightly in his arms, and his color fluctuates, his tail whipping behind him in agitation. I half-expect to see him run into the hills with Pak, just to abandon the whole idea of joining the tribe. Instead, though, he comes to my side and crouches next to me. Pak moves to sit next to me, and his small arms go around me.

It melts my heart. I tuck him against my chest, snuggling him as Juth looks on worriedly, touching his son's tufted blond hair. "What is it, Pak?"

Pak just makes a soft whining sound and burrows against my neck.

I rub his back as Juth looks concerned. Everyone's staring at us, which can't help things. I suspect this is Pak's first time around a group of people, and even though I think of our tribe as small, it must seem overwhelming to the little one. So I pat his back, soothing. "Are you…afraid everyone is going to want to hug you too much?"

Pak sniffles against my neck. His tail thumps against my arm.

I smile at Juth, who looks frantic. I poke Pak's belly. "Are you afraid they will hold you down and feed you delicious cakes? And you don't like delicious cakes?"

Pak squirms. "What's a cake?"

"What's a cake?" I mock-cry. "It's a tasty little treat with meat and seeds and all kinds of yummy things in it…but I bet you won't like that, will you? Yucky, yucky seeds."

Pak lifts his head. "I like seeds!"

I shake my head, pretending to be sad. "It's all right. I'll tell everyone that Pak doesn't like yummy cakes. We'll give you the icky ones so you don't feel bad." I tickle his belly again. "No one wants you to feel bad!"

He giggles, squirming against my tickling fingers, and the tension about to explode out of Juth relaxes a little. Pak looks around again and then hides his face against my neck, remembering to be afraid.

I let him hide against me, because he needs to be comfortable on his own time. "I know it's a lot of people, little buddy, but everyone is real nice. And there are lots of other kits. I bet they'd share their toys with you. And I bet if we ask Gail, she'd make you some delicious cakes and not some yucky ones."

Pak sits up, his eyes wide. "Toys?"

The magic word for any child. I bite back a chuckle. "Yup. Toys. I bet we can still find a few around here. We'll get settled in camp and then we'll stuff you so full of cakes and toys you won't know what to think." I give him one last tickle.

He gives me another shy look and then glances at his father. Juth nods. Pak glances at Ashtar.

Ashtar makes a silly face at him, sticking out his tongue.

Pak giggles, the sound less afraid.

"Do you think you can stay with me and be brave?" I ask in a soft voice. "And I can introduce you to my friends, and we can stuff you full of good food and sit next to a warm fire and sleep in a soft bed tonight." At least, I hope so.

He nods, snuggling against me as he looks at his father, and Juth gives me a warm glance of approval.

Even though I've felt useless for days now, I can do this small thing at least.

THE BEACH LOOKS like a completely different place than it was before. Between the mounded reddish hills of sand with the tentacles sticking out and the destruction of the huts, it's downright apocalyptic. It hurts me to see the spot where we kept our big, friendly fire as a monstrous hill, or that U'dron's hut—the one he's spent so much time on to impress Raven—is now nothing more than kindling. It can all be rebuilt, I remind myself, but it's hard to lose your home over and over again, especially one that had so much work and sweat poured into it.

Pak walks at Juth's side, clinging to his leg as Juth carries me through the camp. People stare, but that's to be expected. I think they're surprised that Juth and Pak are here more than anything, and I keep smiling to make people comfortable, that this is all fine and dandy.

"Where is the healer?" Juth demands.

I can practically see Ashtar bristle at that, but he keeps a neutral expression on his face. "She's resting in the women's cave. Come on. We'll see if she has the strength to help with Steph's ankle."

"I can wait," I protest, but Juth follows Ashtar.

Before, the women's cave was a fairly large cave in one of the cliffs near the fire. All of the women who were unmated slept in there together, like a big slumber party, until one by one, people peeled off and got mated. Lately it's just been me, Flor and Sam, since Daisy sleeps in O'jek's hut for some reason, and O'jek sleeps elsewhere. It's been nice to have the room to stretch out in the cave with just the three of us, and my furs and belongings are against one of the back walls, with Flor and Sam closer to the front.

Today though, the scene is very different. The cave is crowded full of people. Liz and Harlow are inside with their children, supervising as the kids play quietly together. Most of the pregnant women are inside, too, and their worried mates close by. Gren is wrapped around Willa, Angie and Vordis are cuddled together with her little Glory nursing, and Bek holds a cup of soup for Elly, who looks a little battered, yellowing bruises on her forehead.

Ashtar moves into the cave and finds Veronica, curled up sleeping on one of the blankets. He brushes his fingers over her cheek gently, and when she wakes up, he smiles. It's an achingly tender moment that I love to see, even if their son Katamneas isn't with Veronica. Someone must be watching him.

Veronica sits up and she looks tired and drawn. But she smiles at me and pats the furs next to her. "Come sit and I'll take a look at your ankle."

I shake my head. "It's fine. I don't want to add to your workload. I can wait a few more days."

Juth ignores that and settles me on the ground next to the healer, and Pak is immediately at my side, though his gaze is on Liz's girls, playing a short distance away. Liz nudges Raashel, who picks up one of her toys and makes her way over to us. She's bigger than Pak, her braids neat, but her expression is friendly. "I'm Raashel. That's Aayla." She points at her sister, and then at the boy sitting with them. "That's Rukhar. Do you want to come play with us?"

Then, she holds out a toy. It's a carved little fish, something Aehako made when he was here, and it's been painted in bright colors. I feel Pak's excitement, his little tail flicking, but he looks uncertainly at his father.

Juth nods.

Pak practically leaps up and holds his small hand out to Raashel, who takes it as if strangers are a normal thing to her and she leads him over to sit with the children. Juth tenses, watching them, and I watch his tight shoulders as Pak joins the others. It's going to take time for everyone to become comfortable, but this is good for Pak. He needs other children to play with. They both need people.

"I'm going to put my hands on you now," Veronica says to me. "So I can check how things are healing."

"I can wait," I protest again. "It's not bad at all."

Juth makes a displeased sound low in his throat and shakes his head. "It hurts her," he tells Veronica. "She cannot walk."

"Well that's not good," Veronica says easily, and then takes my hand, closing her eyes. She goes quiet and still, concentrating.

I don't feel anything except a slight warmth, and so I glare over at Juth. He glares back at me, just as obstinate as ever. I should have known better than to get into a battle of wills with the most stubborn man on the beach. Hasn't he rebuffed us for months and months simply because he's that impossible?

R'jaal stalks into the cave, scanning over the group. He sees me and nods, then disappears once more and returns with Raahosh. A few other people trickle in, and I realize everyone is squeezing into the cave. It's warm in here from body heat, so warm that I can smell other people perspiring and my own skin feels slightly damp. I glance over at Juth and he looks more than slightly unnerved, like he's going to bolt at any moment. So I pat the blanket next to me, indicating he should sit.

He does, his hand brushing over mine, and I twine my fingers with his to reassure him. I know what it's like to be new to an established group and I can only imagine the anxiety he's feeling.

Veronica releases my hand with a sigh and opens her eyes. "It's healing well. I encouraged a few things to speed up the healing, but I'm too tired to do more. I'll see how I feel tomorrow."

"Really, it's fine," I reassure her. "It already feels better." Which, to my surprise, isn't just me placating her. The throbbing has gone away, and even though I probably can't walk still, I feel better than I did. "Thank you so much."

She gives me a tired smile. "I wish it was more."

"Are we all here now?" Liz calls out, getting to her feet. She touches Raashel's head as she stands, her arms around Ahsoka, her youngest, and steps over people to get to her mate. "Tell everyone outside to squeeze in for a bit. We all need to have a group meeting."

More people press into the cave, and I see the heads of a few Shadow Cat members. O'jek looks over at Juth and his expression turns cold. I automatically bristle, because Juth has done nothing wrong, and pull his hand into my lap, making it very clear that we're together.

R'jaal moves to Raahosh's side, and then studies the cluster of people here. "We are lucky no one was hurt, but it does not mean that the beach will be safe until these creatures leave. The hunters are trying to make them move, but they only burrow in deeper."

"They're not going to move," pipes up a familiar voice. Devi jumps to her feet at the back of the cave, her eyes bright with excitement. "It's a nesting migration. They've shown up here on the shore to lay eggs. Once they're done laying, they'll leave, and then once the eggs hatch, we'll be back to normal. Until then, we just enjoy the show."

"Enjoy?" Bek retorts. "My mate was nearly killed."

Devi's expression falls. "But they're just doing what their instincts tell them to do. It's not their fault we set up on their beach. They don't care about us. They just want to lay eggs where the sand is warm. That's why we've seen these little red crustaceans for days now. I think it's a symbiotic relationship with the creatures, just like we have with our khuis. They eat the leavings of the shell-beasts and clean their shells like remoras do with sharks. When they reach the end of their life cycle, they come here and their dying bodies warm the beach, which in turn, provides a safe nesting spot for the shell-beasts. It's…beautiful." She clasps her hands over her chest. "We just need to stay out of the way."

R'jaal puts a hand up before anyone else can speak. "Which is something Raahosh and Leezh and I have discussed. Some of the group cannot travel because of kits or kits-soon-to-come, but there is no reason that the rest of us cannot leave for a time and return when it will be less of a strain on our resources."

"How are we on food?" Harlow asks, speaking up.

"Low," Hannah volunteers. She's the one that loves to monitor supplies, and her expression is unhappy. "A lot of our dried food and leathers are directly under one of the nesting creatures. We've lost a lot."

Raahosh shakes his head. "The sa-khui prepare for this sort of thing. There are many caches of meat in the snow. There are extra supplies in every hunter cave from here to Croatoan. We will be fine if we borrow from them."

R'jaal speaks up again. "Some of the hunters had discussed making a trip to the fruit cave now that the weather is nice. I propose that those of us that do not mind travel will head to the fruit cave, and then go on to Croatoan."

"What about Ashtar?" Flor asks. "Can't he fly us?"

"Ashtar is going nowhere without his mate and child," the golden dragon-man growls.

"And I'm staying," Veronica chimes in. "I'm needed here. There's a healer at Croatoan but I'm the only one on this end of the mountains, and we have a few people too pregnant to go far."

"We walk," R'jaal says. "Walking is good. We can gather herbs as we go, and look for caches. We can hunt for our meals and leave the supplies for those that stay behind."

Raahosh nods. "My mate and I will be staying with our kits. Until the shell-beasts leave, we will stay in caves for protection. We have this cave. We have a cave farther down the beach with tanning supplies. We have Mar-dok's cave with his things."

"We have my pottery cave," Bridget offers. "It's small but safe." She takes A'tam's hand. "And I can clear my stuff out so someone can use it. A'tam and I will be going with the group to Croatoan."

R'jaal nods. "I will be leading it. We will head out in the morning, once everyone is prepared." He turns to Flor, who hangs back next to Sam. "You?"

Her eyes go wide and she puts her hands up. "Whoa, why do I have to decide first? Go to someone else."

"S'am?" R'jaal asks.

"Staying," Sam says promptly.

Flor turns to her in surprise. "You are?"

Sam nods. "I don't have any desire to meet anyone else." She shrugs. "I'm fine where I am."

R'jaal goes around the room, asking each person if they are staying or going. Brooke and Taushen want to return, even though Brooke is heavy with child. "I'm not due for two more months or so," she insists. "I can do some walking."

Bek and Elly will stay, along with Veronica and Ashtar. Gail and Vaza will stay, since Z'hren is small and will tire out easily if they travel. Lauren and K'thar and Hannah and J'shel will go to Croatoan. I wonder about N'dek and his prosthetic leg, but I shouldn't have. "We stay," N'dek announces.

"This is the greatest time in my life," Devi agrees. "You'd have to pry me off this beach!"

Sessah announces he will stay to help with the hunting since so many males with pregnant mates are needed close to camp. I'm a little surprised by that, but maybe he wants to avoid Tia. Pregnant Willa and her mate Gren stay. Angie and Vordis stay, along with baby Glory, while Nadine and Thrand elect to travel to Croatoan. It seems like all of Tall Horn is going—Penny and S'bren, Callie and M'tok, and Mari and T'chai all agree to head out with the Croatoan group.

Mardok and Farli agree to go as well, because Farli misses her family. Daisy announces that she would love to go, because she “adores” people. That makes me glad—maybe it'll help her realize that she needs to contribute more. Flor still looks torn, but eventually agrees to go.

I'rec declares that he will go with the group heading to Croatoan, and he nudges O'jek, who sullenly agrees to go as well, nodding. His gaze flicks over Juth, and I wonder if they're enemies. Either way, I'm glad he won't be around while Juth gets adjusted to staying with us.

R'jaal turns to me. "And you?"

I gesture at my leg. "Obviously we're staying."

R'jaal just nods, glancing at Juth. "It will be good to have you and your…mate here to help, since there are many that are pregnant. All hunters will be needed to help with supplies."

Ooof, I'm not much of a hunter, but maybe I can handle childcare while people better at hunting—like Liz—take a stab at it. I also don't point out to R'jaal that we're not really officially mates, because how can I? The last thing I want is to have everyone turn on Juth when he's already feeling vulnerable and isolated. O'jek keeps glaring in his direction and it's starting to piss me off, and I pride myself on staying level-headed.

But just because Juth and Pak were considered Outcasts doesn't mean that nonsense has to continue. "How long will you all be gone?" I ask, hoping it's enough time that when they return, Juth and Pak will be just another part of the tribe. "All summer? I mean, bitter season?"

R'jaal and Raahosh exchange a look. Raahosh nods, face hard. "Those of us that stay will rebuild huts and work on stores. Those that go can return at the end of the bitter season with supplies to help us all through the next brutal season. Croatoan will help us resupply again, as well. It can be done."

"Great." Liz claps her hands. "It's decided, then. If you're going, pack your shit and if you need something, let one of us know. Be ready to go at dawn and if you can't, speak up."

Daisy raises a hand. "Does it have to be dawn?"

Liz just glares at her. "Yes."

"Just checking." Daisy smiles brightly.

Gail jumps to her feet. "Okay, well, now that's resolved, let's get some people fed, all right? We've got a fire close to the cliffs we can stoke up and there's enough food for a nice warm fish stew. Who's hungry?" She waves a hand at Flor and Sam. "You ladies want to help me out? Guys—" She gestures at Sessah and then turns to I'rec and O'jek. "Bring me some of the wood that's too shattered to use to rebuild and we'll burn it. Might as well make a hot meal for y'all before you head out."

Everyone bustles and gets to work. Everyone except me, that is, because I'm hurt. And it feels…terribly awkward. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You can sit next to Veronica and nurse that ankle," Gail tells me, and that's that.

17

JUTH

A  short time later, I have a bowl in my hands full to the brim with good, hot soup. Pak has his fingers in his bowl, devouring his food as he sits on Steff's thigh, and my mate picks at her meal. I can tell she has a lot of worries in her mind, but she does not share them. Instead, she merely passes me her bowl after she eats half, and I share the remains with Pak.

It is strange and overwhelming to me that these people have so much food even now that they can choose not to eat much for a meal. That there is more than enough to share with everyone, and that second helpings are passed out. The Outcast tribe would not share their food. If you found a fish, it was yours. If you chose to share it, that was your right. If you did not, no one would be surprised. But here, they all keep their hands out as if food is expected for all.

So strange.

Pak runs his finger along the inside of the bowl, licking off all the gravy, and I do the same until I notice one of the females staring at me with a shocked expression. After that, I had the bowl to Pak and grab Steff's hand again, feeling foolish. Part of me wants to take my mate and my son and head back to the far end of the beach, to the cave we occupied before. But there is no food, no blankets, no nothing there. Here there are blankets and soft things to sit on. There is plenty of food. And there is even fire, tended by the dark-skinned female with the gray in her short mane and her sa-khui mate. They must be the elders.

Pak plays with the other children for a time and eventually crawls back into my lap. He falls asleep, a carving of a fish clutched in his hand. The oldest girl gave it to him and asked him to play with them again tomorrow. Despite his excitement, Pak is exhausted. Steff is quiet, too, just listening to everyone as they talk around us. She does not speak much, but I get the impression she pays attention to everything that is said. She looks as if she is absorbing all of it as the others chatter about trails and supplies and who is staying behind.

It is overwhelming, all this talk. I am used to quiet. I am used to no sounds but that of the waves and the creatures scuttling on the sands. I cannot hear myself think with all these voices pressing in around us. Pak has no such problems. He sleeps in my arms, oblivious. Steff glances over at me and her expression grows worried. She leans in, her breath moving over my skin. "Are you all right?"

I manage a nod.

She glances around the room as one female argues loudly with a bearded male, who raises his voice to match hers. Someone else laughs, and then one of the small kits begins to cry. Steff gives me a knowing look. "It is a lot, isn't it?"

I am relieved she understands. Steff is perceptive. I lean close, pitching my voice low so only she can hear me. "Everyone is very…loud."

Steff nods, and as one female crosses the room to pick up a kit from her red-skinned mate's arms, my mate speaks up. "What are the sleeping arrangements for tonight?" She gestures at Pak, who is passed out in my arms.

A yellow-maned female with a kit in her arms—the mother of the other young females, I think—moves toward Steff. "There are some makeshift beds in Mardok's project cave. All the parents are bedding down in there, and you guys are more than welcome to grab a few beds. You can take ours, if you like." She takes the hand of one of the young female kits, who is yawning. "I'm going to settle the girls and then come back. I don't think Raahosh will be sleeping tonight. Neither will I. There's too much to get done."

Steff smiles at her. "Thank you, Liz. That sounds great." She looks at me. "Okay with you?"

Beds with the other kits nearby. It will work until I can make Steff a home. I think of the little huts I saw that used to dot the beach. They looked easy enough to make. I bet I could create one for her once the creatures are gone. And Pak would love to have a permanent home.

A home with my mate and my son. The thought fills me with a strange warmth.

The yellow-maned female—Liz—hands her baby off to an ugly, scarred male and gives him a mouth-caress, similar to the one Steff gave me. It must be her mate. She takes Pak from my arms and gestures at Steff, indicating I should carry my mate. Steff wants to walk, but I do not let her, and we cross out of the cave and into the night.

Immediately the air feels cooler against my skin. The creatures are making low sounds, buried in the sands, but they do not look as if they are leaving anytime soon. Steff holds onto me as we keep to the cliffs, avoiding the deeper sands where the creatures are buried. The little females hurry behind their mother, and even though I know the shell-beasts will not attack, I am still relieved when we are safely in the new cave.

The healer and her mate are there with their kit, curled up together in furs. There are other beds, but Liz escorts us to the back. She settles her daughters into the furs, tucking Pak in next to them. Then she takes a pile of the blankets and gives them to us. I set Steff down and she settles onto the floor, mindful of her ankle, and Liz (another Outcast name, I notice) helps her make a bed. Once Steff is comfortable, Liz pats my arm. "Welcome to the tribe, Juth. Sorry it's such a shitshow at the moment."

"Shit…sho?" I echo, confused.

"I'll tell you some other time," Steff whispers. "Thanks, Liz."

"See you in the morning," she whispers, and then ducks back out of the cave again.

I look over at Pak, but he has his thumb in his mouth and the toy clutched in his other hand, fast asleep. He has not even noticed I am not next to him, and I am stung. Does he forget his father so easily?

But then Steff indicates I should lie down next to her and I am suddenly glad he is in the other furs. Liz is wise. I pull my belt off and set it down next to the bedding, then slide under the furs, joining my mate. My bare legs brush against hers, and I am reminded of touching her last night. I want to touch her again, right now. I—

"Steph?" a voice calls out.

One of the little girls mumbles, turning over in her sleep, and my mate freezes, her eyes wide. She sits up, and in the darkness, her face is lit by the glow of her khui-blue eyes. Her cheeks look flushed and she looks…uncomfortable. "Flor?" she calls in a low voice. "Is that you?"

A female emerges from the shadows, moving over next to the bed. She drops down next to Steff, clasping her hand, and glances over at me. I do not recognize her or her scent. She has a dark mane and skin the color of soft leather, and a bright smile. She squeezes Steff's hand. "I had to come see you before we go. We haven't had a chance to talk."

"Oh." Steff glances over at me again, and there is something odd in her manner. "This might not be a good time—"

The other female—Flor—puts a hand over her mouth, giggling. "Did I interrupt something? Are y'all about to get nasty?"

"The kids are trying to sleep," Steff protests.

"Right. Sure." Flor waves a hand, dismissing that. "I just…had to make sure you were okay." Her gaze darts to me and then back to Steff. "Did you guys resonate? You're mated now?"

"Um, it's a long story." Steff gives me a helpless look. "Not resonance, though."

"I just thought you were waiting for resonance, you know? You never shared that you and this guy were getting it on." Flor beams at me. "She's far too good at keeping secrets!"

Is she? That is good to know. Steff continues to look uncomfortable, and when one of the kits stirs in bed, she touches Flor's arm. "We'll talk when you get back, I promise. Now's just not a good time."

"Of course, of course." Flor wraps her arms around Steff's and squeezes her tight. "I'm just glad you're all right. We'll save all our gossip for some other time." She rocks back and forth, hugging with enthusiasm, and then wags a finger at me. "You'd better treat her right, buddy."

"Flor," Steff protests weakly. "Stop it."

"I'm just looking out for my friend." She smiles at us both, jumps to her feet, and kisses her fingertips, pushing her hand out from her mouth in what must be a gesture of farewell. "See you on the flip side."

Steff waves, and my curiosity is roused. She is always so confident, so easy in her skin, my Steff. As if she has all the answers to everything already. But seeing her with this female is odd. She acts flustered and uneasy, and she keeps looking at me as if in some sort of apology.

When the female is gone and Steff lies back down again, I do as well. I watch her, too, studying her face. She does not close her eyes to sleep but stares up at the ceiling, not sharing her thoughts.

"You are close friends?" I ask. "With her?"

Steff nods.

"Why did you look so uncomfortable when she hugged you? Is something wrong?"

Steff bites her lip and then rolls over onto her side, facing me. Heat immediately surges through my body, because this is how we were last night when she reached over and grasped my cock. When she touched me. Are we going to touch again? I turn to face her, too, eager. She hesitates, and then reaches out and touches my chest. "I should tell you something. It's not an important something, but you deserve to know anyhow."

I wait.

She thinks for a moment, and then continues. "Back on my home planet…I was, shall we say, experimenting in the furs with a few different people. Some of them were female."

Home…planet? I do not know what she means. Does she mean she came from the far side of the mountains? Is that why her people look so odd? But her confession makes me realize that I was not wrong to pick up on her strange behavior. "Then you and…Flor…"

She shakes her head quickly. "No. No one here, actually. Just you." She pats my chest again as if to reassure me. "But when we first arrived I did have feelings for her. I wanted you to know. It never went anywhere, and she doesn't know. But it was just weird to be around both her and you like this. That's all."

Ah. "But you were not mates?"

"Oh, no." Steff gives me a small smile. "I don't think anyone else here is gay or bisexual. But I wanted you to know because it's not something I'm ashamed of, but some people do not understand it."

I try to follow along, but she is confusing me. "Do not understand what?"

"Um, females touching females?"

"Because there is no resonance?"

"Because some people think it's wrong."

"Why?"

She chuckles. "Well, I don't know why. Just that they do. Did Outcast clan have any rules around that sort of thing?"

I think for a moment about our scattered clan. Of how it was intensely lonely to be Outcast, and yet we were united against the other clans. How we came together when we had to, and supported one another when someone could not hunt. "We mostly kept to ourselves. Outcast clan did not have rules about mating, I think, because we were not expected to mate. Who would resonate with an Outcast?" I shrug. "We are not worthy. So sometimes when we hunted together, we would…seek pleasure with one another."

It did not happen often. I never trusted the others enough. Nen was a food stealer and Ezz was a bully who liked to push everyone around. Sometimes I was so lonely that I would touch them and let them touch me, but such moments never lasted long. What did it matter if a few Outcasts touched one another for comfort? It is not as if we would ever have mates. I think we were all surprised when Haal resonated to Ezz. No one thought it would happen, ever. That Outcasts were somehow broken.

But I am starting to learn that Outcasts are just people…just like everyone else. That we are not wrong or bad. We are just slightly different looking, just as Steff looks different from the ones that call themselves sa-khui.

Steff nods in understanding. She runs her fingers lightly over my chest. "There's no shame in that. Sometimes we just need to be touched."

I take her hand in mine and bring her fingertips to my lips. I nip at them, fascinated when her eyes get soft. "Do you need to be touched, my mate?"

"Here?" she whispers. "Now?"

"Do you want me to wait?" I rub my mouth against her hand. "I will make us a hut," I promise her. "A home for all of us. If you want me to wait until then to give you pleasure, I will. But I think about how you touched me last night, and I want to do the same for you."

Her lips part. Her gaze flicks over my face, and then her fingers move over my lips, tracing them. "Did you like it? When I touched you?"

"More than you can imagine."

Her lips curve in a smile. "Can I…do it again?"

I want that so badly. But I know if she does, I will come all over her skin and we do not have a way to clean it up. "My seed will get everywhere," I warn. "We should not."

"I have an idea." She gets a mischievous look in her eyes. "Don't you worry about that."

I bite back a groan, because she is giving me a look of excitement, and it makes me wild with need. "I want to touch you first."

She bites her lip again, looking around the cave. "There are others nearby," she whispers, moving closer to me. "What if I'm loud?"

"You will not be," I reassure her. I want to touch her too much for her to talk me out of it. I touch the leather straps of her top. She borrowed a tunic from someone and wore it over her clothes for most of the day, but now she is just in her strange leather band and skirt once more. I remember how soft her teats were, and the sounds she made when I touched them. I want to do so again. I want to rub their soft tips until they harden and she presses them against me. I want to touch the slick warmth between her thighs and learn all her secrets. I want all of her. So I tug at one strip of leather on her shoulder. "Can I take this off you?"

"Please," she breathes, her hands going to my chest once more. Steff leans in, and when her breath caresses my face, I realize she wants me to put my mouth on hers like she did to me. I am not experienced in this, but I also do not want to disappoint her. I liked it when she did it to me, so I brush my lips over hers. Her mouth rubs against mine, and then she parts her lips and I feel her tongue flick.

It sends a bolt of pleasure directly to my cock.

I smother a groan, conscious of the kits sleeping nearby. True, there are people close, but I am the father of a small son. When will there not be someone close enough to hear a small moan? Never. But like Steff said, there is nothing to be ashamed of. It is simply pleasure. So I take her mouth and explore it, mimicking the movements of her tongue against mine. It feels good, to taste her like this. To mate her mouth. Steff whimpers against me, the sound needy. It is one of the best things I have ever heard in my life. It tells me that I am making her feel good, that she wants me as much as I want her.

I want more of those noises.

I tug on the knot between her teats, the one that holds the leather in place. It holds tight, and no matter how much I pry at it, it will not come loose. I bite back a snarl of frustration when she chuckles, and her fingers replace mine. She frees it and then her teats spill free, glorious and soft, into my waiting hands.

Magnificent. I caress them, fascinated by how round and yet sensitive they are. Her teats are like nothing I have ever touched before, and when I tease the tips, her breath hitches and she puts her mouth against mine, harder and more fervent. I lick at her mouth, wanting her to feel the same need I do. But I do not know a female's body like I know my own. "How do I touch you to make you feel good?" I ask her, aching with need. "Where do I touch you best?"

She takes my hand and slips it between her thighs, where she is wet and warm and so, so fascinating. "Here," she breathes, her body sliding a little closer to me. "You can touch me anywhere you like, but there are a few spots here that are best."

"Show me," I rasp.

Steff guides my hand over her mound. Her legs part slightly, as if giving way for my touch. "The entrance to my body feels good when you push into it with your fingers." Her nose rubs against mine and her breath catches when I find the soft, slick entrance to her core and dip a finger inside. "Think of it like your cock."

"Then this will be disappointing for you. My cock is much bigger than my fingers."

She bites back a chuckle, rubbing her face against my neck as I touch her. I stroke inside her with my finger, learning her body. I'm fascinated by how she feels, and I imagine my cock pushing in instead of my finger, of the hot clench of her body around me. I like this…a lot.

"Where else?" I ask her, greedy for more. She is responding to me, but she is not wild with need like I was when she touched me.

"Women are different," she murmurs. "We need a little something different than a guy does." She tugs on my hand, pulling it back a little until she guides one of my fingers along the wet crease of her cunt. "There is a little spot here, a nub of flesh called the clit. If you touch it, it feels really, really good." When I find it and brush my fingers over it, she gasps,, her nails digging into my skin. "Almost too good."

"Is there such a thing?"

She bares her teeth when I touch her there again. "Sensitive," she manages. "Very…sensitive."

Ah. I understand now. A direct touch can feel like too much when she is aroused. It feels like that under the base of my tail when my cock is engorged. "What touches feel good, then?"

Steff's hand brushes against mine and then she takes my hand. Using my first finger, she begins to draw little circles around her nub. Her breathing quickens, and she rubs up against me. "This…feels really good." Her lips part, her eyes closing. "This with a finger inside me feels…amazing. Or with your hand on my breast. Or your mouth. All of it feels good." She smiles, opening her eyes to look at me. "Let me know if I'm being too bossy."

Bossy? I love that she is telling me exactly how to touch her. "This is perfect," I tell her. "You are perfect."

"Oh, good." She sounds breathless and distracted, her skin flushed and slightly damp with perspiration.

"Can I put my mouth on you again?" I ask, wondering if it is too much. I lean in and lick her jaw, desperate to taste her. When she nods, I capture her lips again and rub my fingers through her folds. She makes a hungry little sound, her hand spasming over mine. Her legs twitch, and I am fascinated. I touch her again, teasing her mouth even as I brush that little spot between her legs.

This time, she cries out softly, and her hips jerk.

"Shhh," I remind her, pleased that she is forgetting her own rules to be silent. "You must be quiet."

She nods, gasping, and I run my lips down her neck, my fingers teasing that spot between her legs that she likes so much. It makes me want to do more. So much more. She is such a glorious female, her figure full and beautiful, her teats bountiful. This must be why she hides them behind the band—so the other females do not envy her. It is the obvious answer to such silliness. Steff is kind and thoughtful. I know that from when we sat by the fire and she listened to everyone speaking, asking how they were feeling. She worries over all of them as if they are her family, and I am glad for that kind heart. She will be a good mother to Pak.

She will be an amazing mate to me, and perhaps I am greedy in that this excites me more than anything.

I want to rub her teats since she likes that so much, but I do not want to abandon the heat between her thighs. She is wet and slick where I rub her, and every time I graze the spot, she makes a soft noise in her throat. So no, my hand must stay. I consider this, pressing my mouth against her shoulder as I lie beside her, and then slide down a little more. Her nipples are tight, the tips flushed and pointing, and I wonder if I can put my mouth on them like I did her mouth.

One way to find out, I decide. Boldly, I slide lower, until I am practically hidden beneath the furs, and nuzzle at one of the full, rounded mounds of her teats. She whimpers low in her throat, and then her fingers are in my mane, clutching me to her teat as I run my lips over the peak. I want to figure out what she likes, and since my hand is teasing between her thighs, I must use the other to balance my weight so I do not crush her, I will use my mouth instead.

I run my lips over the curve of her teat, but she seems to like it best when I pay attention to the tip. So I tease it with my tongue, swirling it over the tip and gliding over her soft skin. She rocks against my hand urgently, reminding me that she wants to be touched there, too. My hand has stopped moving. I am distracted by her body. I have to remind myself that this is her pleasure, not mine…though truly, it feels like mine.

She makes another soft groan when my teeth graze over her nipple, and I lift my head, even as I caress the special spot she likes so much. "You must be quiet, my Steff."

In response, she rubs her cunt against my hand, needy and wanting more. Steff pants, the sound raspy and overloud in the cave, but I doubt it is enough to wake the others. Even so, I cannot resist teasing her. The smell of her arousal is everywhere, and her slick juices cover my hand. I run my lips over the tip of one teat again, and whisper to her. "You are so wet. Is it because I touch you in this special spot? Or do you like my mouth more?"

When she doesn't respond, I drag my tongue, slow and languid, over the tip of her breast. Her breath hitches and she clamps my hand between her thighs, trapping it there, even as she rocks against me. She is desperate for this, my mate, and I realize she is close. Her excitement makes mine increase, and I keep giving her words, because it feels so good to be able to truly talk to her.

"Your skin is so soft. Never have I touched anything as soft as your teat," I tell her, my voice low enough that it will not escape our furs. I give her nipple another lick, earning a shudder. "But I think your wet cunt might be softer. I cannot wait until we are alone. I want to learn it with my tongue, like I am your teats, but you have to tell me if it is allowed."

Her fingers clench in my mane, her breath tight and rasping even as she rocks against my hand, frantic. Her eyes meet mine, and they are wide with need, her lips parted as if she is so, so close.

"If I put my mouth on you right now," I whisper, my breath fanning over her skin as I lick her nipple again, "would you be my silent mate? Or would you be noisy like you are right now? Just rocking against my hand, so lovely and full of need you can't help yourself?" I slip a finger into her cunt, teasing her with this.

Her mouth opens wide and a soft, keening noise escapes her. I immediately surge up to cover her lips with mine, to take her cries into my mouth. She bucks against my hand, frantic, and she arches against my hand, wanting it back in her favorite spot. So I do so, and I rub her hard, desperate to make her come.

Steff's entire body tenses and then she trembles as I claim her mouth. I can feel her clench, her thighs tightening desperately around my hand as she shudders and makes another soft cry. Then she stiffens, her eyes closing, her mouth going slack against mine as a fresh wave of wetness coats my hand. I tease her tongue with mine even as she clenches again and again, until she goes limp under me, her climax finished. When she finally relaxes, she is panting, and when I press my mouth to hers once more, she leans in to my touch, sated.

"Did I do well?" I ask her. It is my first time to pleasure my female and I am suddenly nervous—what if I did it wrong? What if she wanted more touches? Better touches?

But she just burrows against me, snuggling close in a way that that is nothing like when Pak snuggles against me. "That was amazing." Her hands slip to my chest and she brushes her fingertips over my chest. "You sure I'm the first female you've touched?"

"I think I would have noticed another," I point out.

She chuckles, muffling the sound against my chest. "Well, I loved that. I didn't realize how badly I needed it until you touched me."

"I hope you need it again soon," I admit. My cock is hard as bone and it feels as if all the blood in my body has pooled there. "I like touching you."

To my surprise, she reaches between us and caresses my cock. "Mmm, I can tell."

I clutch her tight against me. I thought my control better than this, but the moment she runs her hands over my cock, I am gone. Need throbs through my system. But when she tucks her cheek against my chest and sighs heavily, her hands abandoning my cock, I try to put those thoughts aside. She is tired. We can do more some other night, when we are not sharing a cave with others. Pak is a heavy sleeper and there will be time enough to wring many, many sighs from her.

Heartened, I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to her brow.

"What do you think of the group?" she asks, surprising me.

What do I think? Does it matter? She needs them, and we need their food, so here we are. I want to shrug but I know Steff likes words. "I think…it is a big group."

"And are you sad to be here?" Her breath tickles my chest.

Am I sad? I do not like it, but I trust her when she says that things are different. That Pak and I will be accepted, as long as we hunt and do our fair share around camp. That is easy enough to do, and Pak needs more people. I would be fine completely alone but—

I stop myself, because perhaps once that would have been the truth, but it is not, now. Now I have a son whose laughter is so bright that it instantly makes any day better. I have a mate in my arms who is soft and smart and loves to touch me. I would miss those things if I was alone. The rest I do not care about. As long as my mate and my kit are well fed and happy, that is all that matters. I rub a hand down Steff's back. "I have you. I am content."

"Are you sure?" She looks up at me, her eyes full of worry. "I know you didn't want to join us."

"As you have said, things are different now." I shrug. "We will see what the future brings."

Her fingers tickle over my chest, and my cock twitches in response. "Can I ask something else?"

As if I would deny her anything. "Ask away."

She hesitates for a moment, and then her fingers trace the lines of one of my chest muscles. My sac tightens, and I hope this is leading into a mating. I really, really hope. Perhaps that is greedy of me, but I can think of nothing else when her body is pressed up against mine, and my cock is hard and aching for her.

"Pak," Steff says, dashing my hopes. "His hair is such a bright shade of blond. Yours is dark, though. Is it true that he's not yours?"

For some reason, her words make me defensive. "He is mine. I claimed him as my own son. I made sure he was fed. I took care of his stomach aches and his scratches. I am the one teaching him to be a hunter. He belongs to me."

Steff lightly touches my jaw. "I wasn't asking to hurt you, Juth. I'm sorry. I was just curious about his hair."

I relax at that. This is my mate. Of course she wishes to know my past. She will not attack me with it, or try to take my son from me. Just like everyone else Steff watches with those knowing eyes of hers, she seeks to understand. I rub her back in silent apology. "His mother, Haal, had the same pale mane. It was why she was Outcast. She was older, but I was told those that bore her came from Long Tail and every now and then, someone would be born with the same strangely pale mane. Looking back, it seems foolish to exile a perfectly healthy female simply because of her mane. She could hunt and fish as well as anyone else despite the color of her braid."

"It does seem silly," Steff says softly. "And…was she your mate?"

Is that why she asks? Is she jealous? For some reason, the thought makes me feel good. To think that someone would be jealous over an Outcast. My hand slides to the curve of her buttock. She is soft and round everywhere, and I cannot stop touching her. I love it. "Haal resonated to Ezz. They did not like each other much. Most Outcasts are very solitary and private. We do not get along with one another. I did not care for Ezz, nor he me. The resonance was a surprise. Haal did not mention it until her belly grew and it was impossible to hide. I think they tolerated one another for a time, but once Pak was born, he was small and weak, and Haal did not live long after." I lose myself in thought, remembering those terrible times. Of Haal with little strength to do anything save nurse her son. Of Ezz, who wanted nothing to do with either because they were “weak.” "I think Haal's khui must have been weak, always, or the birth was too much in her old age. The khui can mend many things, but it cannot fix everything. She died and Ezz did not care to take on the burden of the child. I had been caring for Haal, so when Ezz abandoned them, I claimed Pak as my son."

"You're very brave," Steff says softly.

I bite back a laugh, thinking of those times. "I did not feel brave. Every day, Pak cried and shook so angrily I worried I was doing something wrong. He scared off the game. He needed to be held. He was weak and helpless and demanding and every day I thought, this will be the day he dies. I did not know how to care for him. I did not know how to make him eat. I chewed his food for him like birds do their young and hoped it was enough, and eventually Pak grew bigger. But those early days?" I shake my head. "Never have I been so afraid or felt so alone."

Her hand caresses my face again. "I think you're amazing."

"Being his father has been…an incredible gift." Just thinking about my son makes me want to race over to the bed where the kits are sleeping, to make sure that he is all right, to see the thumb tucked between his lips as he sleeps. Sometimes I need to look at him to make sure he is fine, that he is breathing, that he is not weak like Haal was. "I should check on him."

Steff pulls me down before I can get up, her hand going to my tail and holding it before I can get to my feet. "He's fine," she reassures me in her low, soothing voice. "He's twenty feet away. You would hear him if he so much as snores. Let him sleep." Her thumb moves over the underside of my tail, and my cock jerks in response. "Stay with me."

I glance over at him, just because I have been a father much longer than I have been a mate. I see his pale hair sticking out from between the two sleeping girls, and if I squint, I can make out the thumb in his mouth. Steff is right. I am just on edge because all of this is new to me. I lie down next to her again, and she immediately presses herself to my front, her teats pushing against my skin. I do like this, very much. When her hand trails lower on my belly, I grit my teeth, overwhelmed with the need inside of me. "Steff—"

"Shh," she whispers, and presses her mouth to my chest. Her tongue darts against my skin, sending arousal prickling up my spine. "Remember when I said I had an idea about your seed getting everywhere?"

How could I forget? My hunger to have her touch me is a near-constant ache. I have never needed anyone other than Pak, never cared if another touched me or did not, but with Steff, I ache for her all the time. I think about her hands on me constantly. I need her, and it scares me as much as it excites me. I need to pleasure her again, I think. I need to keep her constantly pleasured so she will not abandon me for someone else, someone better. Someone with the proper tail and horns and coloring, the right markers for their clans.

Steff's mouth trails lower on my chest, and she slides her body beneath the furs entirely. When she presses her mouth to my navel, I get an idea of what she means to do, and I nearly come with the thought of it. No…surely…

Her hand grips my cock and then hot, sucking warmth encloses the tip.

It takes everything I have not to groan with the sheer ecstasy of it. I bite down on my hand, between thumb and forefinger, trying to muffle the shout that rises inside me. Her tongue runs along the underside of my cock, and then she sucks on the tip, hard.

It is too much. I climax, my seed spurting with such force I expect the entire cave to shake. She keeps her mouth on me though, her tongue tickling the underside of my cock as I fill her mouth. She is utterly silent under the blankets, her hands rubbing my thigh and the base of my cock as she takes all of my spend and then licks my cock clean.

I am…in sheer awe.

Never have I imagined such a thing. Now I will never be able to get the idea out of my head. Steff's warm, pink mouth on my cock. Steff licking my shaft. Steff sucking on me and drinking my seed…

Having a mate is incredible. To think that they touch each other like this all the time. Mouth each other's most pleasurable parts just to give their mates joy. I am overwhelmed. When she slides back up to rest her head on my chest, I clutch her against me, beyond words. Beyond thought.

All I know is that I am happy. And I will do anything to keep this, and to keep Steff.

18

JUTH

Even though I have my mate curled up against me, I cannot sleep. Everything is too different. There are too many sounds of others snoring, or their breathing. There is the faint sound—and scent—of someone mating. A young kit wakes up and cries. The cave grows warm from the heat of bodies, and I want to throw the furs off, but I know Steff needs them. I worry about Pak, if he will wake up afraid. I worry that Steff will wake up and decide she no longer wants a mate. I worry that her tribe will decide that Outcasts do not belong after all, and we will be forced to leave once more.

I worry about a great many things, and they spin through my mind, over and over. I stare up at the ceiling of the cave, at the stone icicles that drip down from above, and wait for dawn.

When the skies begin to lighten, I slip out from under the furs and check on my son. He is curled up against one of the young females, his hand in her mane. She has an arm around him, snuggled close, and it makes me smile. One of us has no trouble sleeping, at least. The scent of food tinges the air and my stomach growls. I put on my belt and head to the front of the cave.

The moment I step out of the cave, it feels as if I have wandered into a strange land. The mounded creatures have buried themselves so deep that only a few tentacles stick out from the sand. The beach looks like massive hills, and all seems calm despite the fact that our home has been invaded. I watch as one of the hunters—by the look of him, from Tall Horn—goes out with a spear and pokes at one of the mounds. Immediately, tentacles rip from the sands and lash out. He stumbles backward, laughing, and then jogs away.

Still dangerous, then.

I follow the scent of smoke and food. Close to the cliffs, where it is too narrow for the creatures to wedge themselves in, someone has built a fire. A male—Strong Arm—adds roots to the cooking pouch as a brown-maned female chops up some meat nearby. A few others have gathered by the fire, waiting for food, and I hesitate, not entirely sure I should join them.

As if reading my mind, the golden-skinned male—Ashtar—appears at my side. He claps a hand on my shoulder. "It is good to see your face this morning. Did you sleep well?"

I grunt, unsure of how to take this friendliness. How do I answer such a question? How did I sleep? What does it matter? Why does he ask? Is there a rule about sleeping that I am unaware of?

But he just pats my shoulder again and leans in. "After breakfast, would you like one of my kilts?"

"Kilt?" I ask, uncertain.

"Clothing," he says, and gestures at his lower body. "For the loins."

I frown at him, crossing my arms over his chest. "Why? I am not cold."

Ashtar chuckles. "I know. But having our magnificent cocks out on display bothers the human females. They are blinded by our magnificence." He leans in conspiratorially. "And some of the humans are possessive. They do not like the other females admiring." He winks at me. "So best to cover up your weapon, friend."

I glance down at my near-naked body. I have seen some of the other males wearing furs or loincloths, but I thought they were simply…cold. Do the females not like it when other females admire their mate's body? The thought is a strange one, but also rather…pleasant. Does my female want my cock to be for her and her alone? She has not said. A quick look around the camp shows that no one is bare except me. Hmm.

Is this why Steff constantly brought me clothing in the past? I grow warm with affection at the thought. Even then, she was trying to stake her claim on me, and I had no idea. I find myself smiling. My female is far too subtle. She should have just told me I was hers and I would have gratefully hidden my cock behind any number of furs if it meant more of what we did last night. Just thinking about her mouth on my cock makes my body respond, and I scratch at my thigh, willing my erection to die down. Yet another reason to cover myself. "I should not mind a kilt."

"Excellent." Ashtar smacks me on the back again, hard. "I'll retrieve one for you. Wait here and tell them to save a bowl for me."

It is odd to be here in the midst of camp. I try not to stare as I look around, memorizing faces. I do not know their names yet. Some of them are Outcast names, which are confusing, and some of them are names that the island clans pronounce differently than are spoken. Perhaps names do not matter to these people like they did to mine.

I decide not to change the pronunciations to match those of the island clans. In this, I will continue to be Outcast, at least.

The dark-maned female gets to her feet, and I see she is pregnant, her rounded belly evident under the furs. She dusts her hands off and smiles at her Strong Arm mate, then presses her mouth to his cheek. "I'm going to finish packing. Can you ladle food for everyone?"

He touches her belly and murmurs a word to her, then gets to work handing out food. Once everyone close to the fire has a bowl, he looks around and spots me, hanging back. With a wave of his hand, he beckons me forward.

I eye the Strong Arm male warily, but all he does is spoon some of the food into a bowl and holds it out to me.

I take it from him and lift it to my lips. It tastes like good, salty meat and some other things I have not had before. Herbs float on top, and the taste is strong but not unpleasant. I clutch my bowl tightly and move back, watching the cave for my mate and my son. I want to wake them up so they can eat before it is all gone, but I know that is my Outcast instinct talking. I know no one would let Steff go hungry. No one would let a kit go hungry. If they run out of food, they would make more.

When my bowl is empty, I hold it up to my mouth and lick it. As I do, I can feel someone stand behind me. Thinking it is Ashtar, I turn—

And stop.

O'jek, of Shadow Cat, stands nearby. He wears a pack on his back, a pair of soft leather leggings, and a fur cloak. He carries a spear and has a hard look on his face.

I know this male, all too well. "What do you want?"

He studies me, and his expression remains cold. "I wished to look upon my mother's son."

His mother's son. Not his brother. He lays no claim to me. I lick my bowl again and try my best not to glare at him. I want to fling this bowl into his face out of sheer hatred, but I will not waste whatever scrap of food is left. I despise O'jek. He is the good son, the perfect son. The son they kept. The son that did not have the wrong tail, or the wrong horns. The son that carries all the markers of Shadow Cat clan proudly.

Me, they threw away. I have always known there was another son. That he is but a few turns of the seasons younger than me. How they must have rejoiced when he came out of the womb perfect, I think bitterly. Unlike me. "And what do you think of your mother's son?"

"I do not know what I think," he says carefully. "But I wished to look at you before I left, in case you are not here when I return."

My jaw clenches and I focus on my bowl. Is that a threat? Is he hinting that I should leave? That I do not belong? "Look your fill and then leave me alone," I tell him. "My family will be up soon. My mate and my son will want their food."

I turn my back to him, and when I finally look in his direction once more, he is gone.

Good.

19

STEPH

A  few hours after all the goodbyes are said, everyone is gathered around the fire. No one is hunting for the day, or fishing. I think we're all a bit shell-shocked, because it's so very quiet on the beach. Only the children seem excited. They're having a good time playing a game in the cave with some colored bone bits and a decorated skin.

Well, only the children and Devi, who wanders up and down the beach all day with N'dek, her mate. It's like these creatures invading are a gift that keeps on giving, in her eyes, and she can't wait for more. The rest of us aren't nearly as delighted. I can't help but look around at the beach and compare it to how it was before. Unnatural hills dotted with tentacles are everywhere, so tall they practically block out the sight of the ocean in the distance and make me feel slightly claustrophobic. I'm used to the sight of wide open beaches stretching as far as the eye can see. Now, it feels as if we're penned into one blind canyon close to the caves, where the creatures are too big to wander through.

Juth is quiet, too, which doesn't help my mood. He came to get me this morning, carrying me out so I could say my goodbyes to everyone as they headed up the path into the mountains. Part of me really wants to go with them, because I'd love to meet new people and see what the other encampment is like. Liz has told us before that the huts there have a rudimentary plumbing system, and I have to admit, that sounds pretty freaking great to me. But I don't think Juth and Pak could handle it, and of course, there's my ankle.

Pak seems to be adapting well, though. He's been shadowing Rukhar, Harlow and Rukh's sturdy, quiet little son, all day long. He's dressed in a fur poncho with the hood up and his bare bottom sticking out, and it's adorable to see the delight on his face as he follows behind Rukhar like an adoring puppy.

His dad, however, is tense. I think Ashtar is doing his best to befriend Juth, and I couldn't help but notice that Juth was wearing one of Ashtar's short leather kilts instead of wandering around totally naked. The others aren't quite as friendly as I'd hoped. I don't know if people are trying to give Juth space or if everyone's just moping because they're staying behind. I look around the group and realize that all of the island clans are going, with the exception of N'dek. Strong Arm has gone with the group. Shadow Cat has, too, and Tall Horn as well. I was hoping a few of them would stay behind so they could get to know Juth and realize he's a great guy, but I can't push my wants on the others.

The sa-khui will of course accept him, and the others—Gren, Ashtar and Vordis—won't know the complexities behind the clan lines that forced Juth to be an outcast. So it's not ideal…but then again, neither is the beach being invaded by monsters. I can only hope that by the time the others return, Juth is so entrenched in the tribe that it becomes a nonissue.

In the distance somewhere, Devi makes another squeal of delight, and that causes a ripple of laughter through those of us seated by the fire.

"I'm glad someone's having a wonderful time," Gail says with a little smile. Z'hren is in her lap, chewing on a long, pale root. Every now and then, he holds it up to Gail as if to show her, then goes back to chewing on it. He's teething, she's told me, and he loves to bite everything. She turns and looks to Liz and Raahosh. "So what's the plan?"

Raahosh glances at his mate. He opens his mouth to speak, and then the baby cries.

Liz tilts her head, then taps her mate's leg. "That cry is a dirty diaper cry."

He grunts. "On it." He gets to his feet and scoops up the baby, nestled on the furs near the entrance of the cave, where Angie sits with her baby, watching over the infants.

I watch Liz, waiting, but her expression is just thoughtful. "Obviously we can't do a lot right now until our new friends leave the area. Devi says that it won't be forever. It's some sort of migration, which means whenever they're done doing what they're doing, they'll get out of here. I don't know if that's going to be a week, or a month, or a year, though. So until we have a better idea, we make temporary plans. We keep sleeping in the caves—"

Sessah makes a frustrated sound. "Would it not be wiser to start on the huts again?" He crosses his arms over his chest, his hands tucked into his armpits, and as he stretches, he looks…really big. He's filled out in the last few months, lost the last of his gangliness. I've always thought of him as an older teenager about to break through into adulthood, but I'm wrong. He's definitely a man. And right now, he's a surly-looking man, too.

Liz makes a face at him and gestures at our group. "Who's going to work on huts, huh? Which member of our dream team here do you want to put on huts?" She points at Angie. "Pregnant and has a young baby." Points at Elly. "Pregnant and injured." Points at Willa. “Pregnant.” Points at me. "Injured." Points down the row at Veronica and Harlow and then at herself. "Young baby. Young baby." She then points at Sessah again. "The men are going to need to hunt because we need furs, leather, and food. So you want Devi and Sam to make all the huts? I'll be sure and let them know you volunteered them to rebuild the whole fuckin' village. I'm sure they'll be thrilled."

Sessah just scowls. "I will hunt." He lifts his chin at Juth. "He will hunt. Ashtar will hunt—"

"And so will I," Liz snaps. "But that doesn't mean we should waste our time building huts again when these Godzilla-movie-things might show up again and knock ’em all down once more."

"Kaiju," Sam says quietly.

"What?" Liz turns to her.

Sam gives the intimidating woman a tiny smile. "They're called kaiju. The huge monsters in the Godzilla movies."

"Thank you for that useless bit of information," Liz says, clearly teasing.

"You're the one that goes on and on about Star Wars," Sam retorts.

"Yeah, ’cause that shit is important!" Liz looks offended.

Sam just gives her a patient look. "I'm allowed to go off about monster movies. That's all I'm saying."

"Nerd out later. I'm trying to school Sessah here."

"Maybe he doesn't need to be schooled. Maybe he's just asking a question."

Liz narrows her eyes. "What's crawled up your ass?"

Sam just gestures at the beach. As if on cue, a tentacle waves in the distance.

"Okay, fair point." Liz turns back to Sessah. "So it doesn't make sense to put up huts right now, okay? I'm sorry if your bunk-buddy smells or is gassy, but we need to focus on the food first, and privacy la…ter…" She trails off as he storms away, a confused look on her face. "What the fuck did I say?"

I watch, too, interested. Sessah's always so good-natured and eager to please. It isn't like him to be moody and temperamental, and I have to admit that it pricks my interest. I want to talk to him, dig deeper. See if I can help. "Maybe I should go see how he's doing?" I offer. "I could—”

"No." Juth speaks up for the first time, and it's to scowl at me. "You need to rest your foot."

"Oh, I don't think that's really necessary," I begin, but Juth gets to his feet, takes a bowl from Harlow, who's serving food by the fire, and puts the bowl in my hands.

To my surprise, both Harlow and Liz give me knowing looks.

"I'm not hungry," I protest.

Juth strokes my hair, the movement caressing and possessive all at once. "I noticed you did not eat much. Eat your fill. There will be plenty of work to do if there are no food stores."

"Not much," agrees Liz. "I haven't seen Bek or Elly this morning. Are they with Veronica?" When Angie nods, Liz taps a finger on her chin. "Okay. We've got a lot of pregnant ladies, a lot of kids around camp, and some injured. Those that can hunt will hunt. Those that can't hunt can watch the kids and keep them occupied while the parents are busy, and help with food preparing."

"And Bek?" Harlow asks reasonably, stirring the food pouch over the fire. "Because you know he's not going to leave Elly's side for a moment."

"Bek can kiss my skinny pale ass," Liz mutters. "But fine, he can play bodyguard here at camp. Whatever." She points at Juth. "You. Do you know how to hunt in the mountains?"

Juth stiffens at my side again, and I worry he's about to get offended. Liz can be hard to take at times, and I worry she's far too abrasive for the newly-joined Outcast. But he gives her a sharp look. "I know how to kill things for food. It cannot be that different from hunting on the sands."

She breaks into a grin. "Good answer. I like you." She wags a finger at him. "You will need boots, though. And a spear. Steph?"

"I'll get him kitted out," I promise, touching Juth's arm. For some reason, I'm awfully proud that Liz likes him. She can be a tough nut to please unless you throw some Star Wars trivia in her direction.

Liz nods. "Raahosh and I can show you the basics and where to set traps and how to cache. After that, you'll be on your own." She looks out in the distance. "We need to find N'dek and pry him off Devi's ass so he can hunt, too. There's too much to do to go farting around with these creatures all day long. I think we—"

"Helllooo," calls a loud female voice in the distance.

Harlow turns to Liz, confusion on her face. "What the heck?"

Liz starts away from the fire, a worried look on her face. "Is something wrong with the travelers already? Fuck, what now?"

"You think it's Brooke?" Harlow asks. "She's getting heavy with kit but she swears she can walk it. You think it's too much for her?" She presses her fingers to her mouth, as if just uttering the words is upsetting.

"One way to find out," Liz says, and storms away.

I bite my lip as Liz races down the canyon. I touch Juth's arm. "Go with her?"

He gets to his feet, silently heading after her, and I'm grateful. I exchange a look with Harlow. I hope it's nothing. I can't think of a reason for someone to come back, hours after they left, unless something terrible has happened. My mind starts to run through all the possibilities. More of those enormous, man-eating bird things? The yeti-like metlaks that we've been told about but rarely see? An avalanche? More tentacled shell-beasts? What?

A few quiet, tense minutes later, Liz comes charging back into camp, a furious look on her face. "No jury would convict me if I murdered her," she mutters as she passes by us. "I'm getting Raahosh."

Harlow and I exchange a look of confusion, and a few moments later, it all becomes clear. Juth is the first one to return to camp, with a pack tossed over one shoulder. Behind him, her white fur cloak wrapped around her like she's some sort of Hollywood starlet, is Daisy. A few steps behind her is O'jek, with the same stony expression that Juth is wearing. For a moment they look so alike, it's startling.

Daisy beams at all of us as she sits by the fire, rubbing her hands. "Hello again! Mmm, what's for dinner?" She looks over at Juth, who moves to my side. "Oh, you can just set my bag anywhere, sweetie. O'jek will move it for me later."

Juth immediately drops it on the ground next to the fire, earning him a frown from Daisy. He slides back in next to me and nuzzles at my ear in a very blatant way, and I find myself blushing…and pleased. It's like he's staking his claim on me in front of everyone. "How is your ankle?" he murmurs, lips so close to my ear it sends shivers through me. "Shall I rub it?"

Blushing, I shake my head. "I'm okay."

"You two are so cute," Daisy says, clasping her hands in front of her and sighing dramatically. "I love love, don't you?"

Harlow gives her a puzzled stare. "Actually, I'd really love to know why you're back. You and O'jek both. Did something happen? Is everyone okay?"

"Oh, everyone is lovely," Daisy gushes. "Though they did stop for a while so Taushen could make the cutest little sled for Brooke and some of the packs. She wants to walk but he's being all possessive and protective." Her gaze slides to me again, where Juth is practically draped all over my side, and a wistful expression crosses her face. "You know how it goes."

O'jek moves near the fire and picks up Daisy's pack. He adds it to his own and glances around at the group, his gaze lingering on myself and Juth, and then he heads toward the cave, no doubt to speak to Raahosh. Well, I'd wanted someone from one of the tribes to remain, didn't I? Guess I got my wish…only I'd prefer anyone other than O'jek, who’s both Shadow Cat and generally unpleasant. Oh well.

"As for why we came back, well…" Daisy touches her cheeks. "My skin was just being torn apart by the cold wind and the snow. I didn't realize how much nicer it is on the beach here. The cliffs really do protect us from the worst of the weather. After a few hours of that, I realized that I'd look like my leathers if we were traveling for very long, and so I insisted that I come back. O'jek offered to escort me, the sweetheart."

Harlow's brows go up. She glances over at me, and then at Sam. "I'm sorry, did you say you came back because your skin was dry?"

"Well, yes." Daisy shrugs. "I can't meet a lot of new people looking all chapped and terrible." She shakes her head. "If I'm not going to look my best, what's the point in going?"

"Putting less strain on the village?" Harlow asks. "Helping the others hunt and work on replenishing supplies? Heck, how about working toilets at the other village?"

"They have working toilets?" Sam echoes, impressed.

"Yes, but I would look hideous when I got there," Daisy counters, patting her cheek. "It's important to maintain my beauty."

Sam gives her a look of disgust and leaves. Harlow seems as if she's doing her best to hide her opinion, but her mouth keeps twitching. "I…ah…think I'm going to go talk to Liz." She jumps to her feet and races away, and then it's just me, and Juth, and Daisy by the fire.

Daisy seems oblivious to the weird mood. She holds her hands out to the warmth, then studies her nails. I bite my lip, wondering if this is the appropriate moment to give Daisy a pep talk, and decide I can't help myself. "Daisy, maybe you should have stayed with the group."

"No," Daisy says firmly. "I won't show up somewhere not looking my best."

"This is a primitive planet," I point out. "It doesn't matter what you look like."

"That's where I think you're wrong," Daisy tells me with a sweet smile. "Pretty is all I've got going for me, and I need to keep it."

20

JUTH

T  he day is filled with work. The yellow-maned female with all the kits gives everyone tasks to work on, even those that are injured. I am surprised that they all pitch in to improve the camp for all. The Outcast clan was never so dedicated to one another. Here, though, everyone is as a family. Steff and one of the very pregnant females sit near the fire, keeping the kits entertained. My mate works on sewing a few hides even as she supervises their play, and the other female works on cooking. Another female watches the very young kits, along with one of the males. Several of the others go to find something called a “hunter cave” and I help N'dek pull shattered wood pieces away from the shell-beast mounds. Liz says if we cannot re-use the wood, we can gather it and burn it. It alarms me when none of the elders stays near the fire, but Steff has assured me that all are welcome to make fire.

She even offers to teach me.

I like the idea of learning how to make my own fire, despite the fact that it is against the rules. Beyond that, though, my thoughts turn to other things. Things like sleeping, and my mate.

I think about Steff and her mouth. I think about putting my mouth on her, between her legs where she is warm and slick, and I wonder what she will taste like. I think about how she grabbed my mane last time I touched her, as if demanding more, and my entire body throbs with need.

When it comes time to sleep that night, though, Pak crawls between us and another family pushes up on the other side of Steff, and there is no privacy. I hold both my mate and my son and tell myself that this is temporary. That there will be plenty of time for mouth touches and licking later. For now, we worry about survival. And because I can hold them both, I am content.

I wake up aching with need, but I am content.

But as one day blends into the next, the crowding in the cave does not decrease. Neither does my hunger for my mate. Pak loves being with the mix of people on the beach. He is constantly eating something or chasing after one of the other kits, and it makes me realize how lonely he has been with only his father to talk to. I did not know my son needed other people. As long as I have him, I have been content, but meeting Steff has changed that for me. Now I need two people in my life. Just as I need my son's happiness, I cannot imagine waking up and not seeing Steff's face in the furs next to mine. I cannot imagine losing her scent, or not hearing her bright laughter.

I am obsessed with her, and as the days pass, I dream of being alone with her. Of everyone on the beach disappearing and giving us the time to touch each other. I need this. I need my mate. I fantasize about touching her constantly, but we never seem to get time alone. There have been stolen moments—mouth presses that Steff calls “kisses”—and touches that hint at more, but someone is always around, and between the tribe and the creatures covering the beach, I feel trapped, when all I want to do is touch my mate. Sometimes I try to touch her when others are nearby, but Steff seems reluctant. She does not want to mate in front of others, and tells me that she wants to be alone with me. That our time together is special and not to be shared. I agree with that, and I want that too, but sometimes it is hard to wait.

It is especially hard to wait when Steff gives me lingering looks and sweet smiles. She clings to me when she sleeps, and sometimes I wake up with her teat in my hand and my cock hard and aching. We share a few small kisses, but there is never enough time alone. There are always chores to be done, animals to be hunted, my son to be chased down.

I tell myself I can be patient. We will have huts soon. We will have the privacy that Steff craves.

The shell-beasts cannot stay here forever.

AFTER TWO HANDS of days pass, the female with the fascination for the animals—Devi—rushes up to the fire, her eyes wide with excitement. "They're laying eggs!"

"They are?" someone asks.

Everyone rushes to their feet, eager to look. Pak looks at me for permission as the other kits race off, and I give him a stern glance. "Stay with Rukhar," I admonish. "Hold his hand. Do not get too close."

My son beams with excitement and rushes over to Rukhar's side. He takes the other boy's hand, and the older boy holds onto his father as they head along toward the edge of the sands to get a good look at the creatures. Others follow after, abandoning the fire. They are all eager to see some creature laying eggs on the shore, as if this is wondrous. To me, it is just another mess.

I am not the only one that feels that way. "Eggs?" Vordis calls out, his kit in his arms. He stares off into the distance, shaking his head. "Guess that solves the food problem."

"You would eat them?" his mate says, aghast. She holds onto his arm, her hand on her large belly as she walks at his side. "That seems wrong."

"Food is food," Vordis says, grinning down at his mate. "I would eat anything if it tasted good."

Angie just shakes her head and tugs him along, and they trail after the others.

Steff gets up, too, and for a moment, I think she will follow the rest of the tribe to look at the egg-layers. Instead, she pauses, lifting her foot and grimacing.

I move to her side, my hand on her back. "What is it?" I ask. "Does it still hurt you?" I bend down onto the sand, running my fingers over her ankle. The healer has been working on her in small amounts so as not to exhaust herself, since several of the tribe have been injured in small ways. Steff assures me it is better every day, but I check for swelling anyhow, because I worry over her. "It seems fine."

"I just stood up too quickly," she tells me, and her cheeks grow flushed. "You don't have to stay down there."

I have learned that my mate does not like it when people fuss over her. She does not like for anyone to pay attention to her needs, and would rather focus on the needs of others. Knowing that she puts others before her makes me all the more stubborn when it comes to her, because if she will not look after herself, then her mate will.

So I ignore her entreaty and continue to examine her ankle, running my fingers over it.

"Juth," she says softly. "It's fine, really. Get up."

I glance up at her, but she is not looking at me. She is watching the others as they head down to the far end of the beach to watch some sea creature lay eggs in sand. It does not interest me in the slightest, but my mate's reluctance does. I run my fingers over her ankle again, rubbing the small, delicate bones of her foot, and as I do, she flushes pink, biting her lip.

Then I smell it. Her arousal scent. My nearness, my touches—they are making her hunger for more. I suck in a breath, startled. We have stolen touches in the last few days, but not enough. Never enough.

Now, I look over at the people leaving the camp, and I hunger for more. I hunger to take my mate, to claim her, to taste her as I have been dreaming of every night. I wake up hard and aching, full of need for her, and must let her stay at arm's length. I glance down the beach, but no one is looking in our direction.

This is my time.

"We should probably join them," Steff says in a low voice. She gestures feebly at them. "See what all the fuss is about."

I shake my head, sliding my hand up her ankle to caress her leg, then moving up to her thigh. She keeps her foot bandaged, so she has been wearing short kilts much like my own, her legs bare so the bandage can be tightened throughout the day. I love that she is so bare, because it is the perfect opportunity for me to touch her. I skim my hand up her thigh. "We will not join them. My mate needs me."

Her breath catches. "W-what? Juth?"

I slide a hand under her kilt and then the other. I cup her buttocks, tugging her closer until I can press my face to the furs hiding the vet of her thighs. I breathe in deep, because even through the layers she wears, I can smell her arousal. "You need me, do you not?"

"Juth," she whispers. "There's no privacy—"

"We will make privacy."

She glances around. "I'm not sure—"

I get to my feet, and before she can protest any more, I haul her by the buttocks into the air. She makes a low cry of surprise, her arms flying around my head and clutching my face to her teats. Perfection. Sheer perfection. I growl hungrily and stagger toward the cave, which has been emptied out by all. "I will have my mate," I tell her large, jiggling teats. "I will make her feel good. And if we do not have much privacy, then I must be quick. But I am no mate if my female's needs are not met."

"Juth," she breathes.

"And I can smell that your needs are not met, Steff. You are wet for me, are you not? You need to be touched."

She whimpers, the sound she makes when I touch her, and I know I have won. My mouth waters with anticipation, and I take a few more steps inside, until I find the furs we share. They are near the entrance, because Pak sometimes has trouble holding his bladder all night long, and I carefully set my mate down onto her back.

Her kilt flips up, a silent invitation.

With a hungry growl, I shove it up to her hips and reveal her cunt to my hungry, hungry mouth.

Steff gasps, her legs jerking in surprise. I clasp them in my grip, pushing her thighs open, and then lower my face to her. I have dreamed of putting my mouth on her like this, and the reality of it far exceeds anything I could imagine. She is so warm, her folds soft and pink and inviting. The tuft of fur over her mound holds her scent, and I bury my nose against it, drinking in her scent. My cock is hard and aching with need, and I groan. "You smell so good."

"Juth," she cries softly, and her fingers go to my mane, twisting into it again. She does not push away, but instead gasps my name again. "Juth. Please."

"Can I taste you?" I flick my tongue over her folds, pretending she has not yet decided. Her quivering and the way her cunt is growing slick before my eyes tells me everything I need to know. "Or shall I let you go watch some creature lay eggs?"

In response, she spreads wider for me, tugging on my head. "Don't you dare leave me now."

"Never." Never, never. I would stay here forever. I press my mouth to her folds, kissing her here like I would her mouth. She squirms under me, and I wonder if I am doing it wrong. I think about how she tasted me. Her hands moved all over my cock and then she put her mouth on the head and sucked. I cannot do the same for her—she is not built the same way I am. But I can give her pleasure, I think. I just have to figure out the best way to approach it.

I lift my head, studying her cunt. As I do, I lick my lips. The taste of her is on my skin, and I want to revel in how delicious it is. "Your taste is incredible," I tell her, and touch her cunt with a light fingertip, stroking her folds. She's growing wet already, the core of her gleaming with her slick response, and I dip my finger there, wanting to touch her all over.

Steff makes a choked response, jerking up against my finger where it circles the entrance to her body. I love how wet she is, but when I compare her cunt to my cock…they do not seem a match. I am big and she is small. I am hard all over and she is soft, soft, soft. Steff does not seem worried, though, so I will follow her lead. I rub my finger against her opening, and she arches up, panting. I want to put my tongue there, where she is wettest. I withdraw my hand, watching my mate, and when our eyes meet, I lick her taste off my skin. Another groan rips from my throat. I will never have enough of this taste. Never.

I push my head between her thighs, and using one hand to hold her folds open for me, I drag my tongue over the entrance of her body, licking up that delicious wetness. She cries out again, the sound soft and entreating, and it only makes me hungry for more. I work that little hole of hers with my tongue, teasing and tasting and delving, pushing into it with the tip of my tongue and licking her everywhere I can.

"Juth," she pants, saying my name over and over again even as she quivers against my tongue. "Oh god, Juth. That feels so good."

Her encouragement only heightens my excitement. I continue teasing her with even more enthusiasm. To my surprise, something brushes against my forehead. I lift my head to see that she is touching her spot, the one that she likes to have rubbed. Of course. I want to laugh with how I could have missed something so very obvious. I push her hand out of the way, because I am possessive and I want to be the one to touch that spot for her. I lean in and run my tongue over it, and the breath hisses out of her lungs. Her thighs clench and she tries to curl her legs around me, like she did when I touched her before.

Now I feel as if I am on the right path. She liked the other things, too, but this she likes more. Eager to pleasure her, I adjust her thighs over my shoulders and work that spot of hers, the little nub of flesh that is so very sensitive. Steff's sounds grow louder, her cries more intense, and she rocks and moves against my face, trying to follow along with my tongue. My cock is aching fiercely, and I grind my hips against the furs, desperate for my own release. Steff comes first, though. She always comes first. I tease her, moving my tongue faster and faster, and when she starts saying “please” over and over again, I slide my finger into her wet heat once more.

My mate makes a choked cry, her cunt fluttering and rippling against my finger even as a surge of new wetness floods her folds. It is too much for me, too. With a hiss, I come in my kilt, grinding against the furs even as I work my tongue over her. She rocks against me, shuddering, and then collapses back on the furs as if completely spent, a little mewling sound of contentment escaping her.

I give her folds one last, possessive lick, thrusting against the furs as the last of my own release hits me. "Steff," I rasp, rubbing my face over her cunt. The need to keep touching her, to keep stroking her and tasting that soft skin, it is overwhelming. "Did I please you?"

She sighs, wriggling slightly under me. "God, yes."

Good. I am pleased. I press kisses to her damp folds, licking up every drop of her.

She squirms under me. "What are you doing, Juth?"

"I am cleaning you," I tell her. "The others will smell what we have been doing, so I am licking your cunt clean, because no one should smell your sweetness but me."

"Oh Jesus. You think they'll smell that?" Her legs twitch as my tongue moves over her.

"Without a doubt." I keep licking. She keeps producing more of that delicious wetness, and when I lick her, she quivers, so I keep going. I love her quivers. I love her taste. And when she squeezes me with her thighs again and makes another whimper, I look up. Steff's face is flushed once more, and her expression the one she makes when she is lost in her pleasure. "Are you going to come again?"

"If you keep licking me like that, yes." She shifts her weight, trying to move. "I can't help it."

"You would want to help it?" I am incredulous. To think I can make her come again so quickly. I had no idea such things were possible. I clutch her thighs, spreading them when she squeezes me too tight, and lick small, teasing circles around her spot. The way her body responds tells me that she is, indeed, about to come again. She is so sensitive that it will not take much, and between my thumb and my finger dipping into the entrance of her body, I wring another climax from her in quick succession.

I had no idea this was possible, and just the realization that I made my beautiful, soft mate come twice now? I feel as if I could float on air. With a grin, I nuzzle her cunt and lick her new wetness away. "Quit squirming," I tell her. "Or I will not be able to finish before the others return."

"Have mercy," is all she gasps, but I think she is pleased. I know I am.

21

STEPH

J uth is a man obsessed after that afternoon tryst. In the next week, it doesn't matter how chaotic things are in camp, or how busy it might be, Juth watches for a private moment. I might be sitting by the fire, working on sewing newly worked hides together for hut roofs when I hear “privacy” whispered in my ear, and then the next thing I know, I'm bent over the nearest rock, getting my pussy eaten out.

Juth loves to go down on a girl more than anyone I've ever dated, male or female.

It's happening at least twice a day right now. Once at some point during the day, usually when Pak is playing with the other children. Then at night, when everyone's quiet and dropping off to sleep, he'll shimmy under the furs, and then the next thing I know, his mouth is on my clit and I'm biting my fingers, trying to muffle my cries. I'm pretty sure everyone in the tribe knows what we're up to. The cave isn't all that big, and all the aliens have a really great sense of smell.

Plus, Juth walks around with this big, smug smile on his face constantly. I'd laugh if I wasn't so very wrecked—and constantly turned on. I always make sure he gets a turn, too—I know he likes my mouth on him. He always comes quick and fast, but I make sure that he knows that I find him sexy. How can I not? He’s got huge equipment, he’s handsome and muscular and sweet, and he loves to lick pussy. Every time he makes me come, he insists on licking me right through until the next orgasm, as if he needs to prove to himself that he can make me come twice.

I've never come so hard, or so very often.

The funny thing about sex, though, is that the more you have it, the more you want it. Before Juth came into my world, I'd lived on the Icehome beach for months. I don't think I'd masturbated once, just because there was so much going on that I never felt the need. Even my crush on Flor never quite hit sexual levels. I just really liked her and was looking for an outlet—or someone to rescue, if I'm being honest with myself. But now that Juth and I are together.

God, I think about sex all the time.

I think about touching him. I think about his big, fat balls, when I've never thought of a man's balls before in my damn life. I think about his thick cock, and the spur, and I wonder how it'd feel when he's pounding away deep inside me. I think about his hands and his mouth and how I can't wait for us to have a hut of our own and some privacy.

I have suddenly become the most sexually focused woman on the beach.

Some of that's unfair, of course. A lot of the tribe left behind are young mothers or extremely pregnant, so I'm guessing they're not feeling the need to fuck every five minutes. Me, though? I can't even put on my skirt without thinking about how hot and eager Juth's mouth is when he slides the leather up to lick me. I can't touch my newly healed ankle without thinking about his hands on my skin. I can't sew leather or cook food or even pull my hair up in a braid without thinking about Juth. Juth and his hands, Juth and his mouth, Juth and his shortened tail that somehow looks perfect despite the fact that it’s different.

Juth and the way he looks so damned thrilled when he makes me come.

Juth and the pleased noises he makes when he's eating me out, like I'm his favorite dish.

It's all very distracting.

Like right now. I'm supposed to be picking through the wreckage on the beach. Since the creatures have started returning to the waters, they've made an absolute mess of the sands. The spots where the creatures were buried are easy to find, because the sand is sunken there, the large body of the shell-beast having displaced all of the sand off to the side. It means that the beach is full of pits and valleys, but with every creature that leaves, it also means there's a chance to recover some of our gear. Juth is off hunting in the mountains, so I have Pak today.

Maybe it's weird, but I'm starting to feel like a mom. I dress Pak in the morning, make sure he's fed, and today he's wearing a little topknot in his wild blond hair to tame it. He holds my hand as we walk down the beach, carrying a little messenger bag I made him of leather. It crosses over his chest and he puts all kinds of things into it as we walk, most of them useless. We did the same thing yesterday, and his bag was entirely full of shells and debris and odd bits in the sand. Pak loves colors, so I made him a little tunic out of a variety of scraps in all different shades, and he loves it. He touches it constantly and his little tail shakes with happiness just under the hem of it every time someone compliments him on how handsome he looks.

Pak is an easy kid to love. He's always happy, chattering and smiling at anyone and everyone. I've promised to make him a set of paints so he can paint our hut once we have one again, and he talks about it all the time.

In fact, he's talking about paints right now while I daydream about his dad and his incredible mouth. Yeesh. Maybe I'm not that great a mom yet after all.

"Eggs right there!" Pak announces, hopping at my side. He sing-songs brightly, "Watch your step, watch your step!"

"I'm watching," I promise, even though I wasn't. My naughty daydreams were distracting me, and we skirt wide around the bright red hole in the sand with the eggs at the bottom. Nothing's hatched yet, and I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to that moment. I am more than ready for the beach to return to a quiet, calm normal.

A quiet, calm normal will give me more opportunities to jump Juth, after all. I smile at the thought as Pak races ahead to pick something up off the beach. Even though he has to wear clothes and shoes, Juth likes hunting in the mountains. He says it's a different sort of challenge than what he's used to, but he likes it. He likes setting traps and seeing if there's anything in them. He likes hunting with a spear and following trails through the snow. Both Liz and Raahosh complimented him on his skills, which made him quietly pleased. He doesn't like to “need” anyone's approval, but when it happens, he likes it.

"Look, Steff! A treasure!" Pak cries, racing up to me.

I drop to my knees, grinning. Everything's a “treasure” that Pak finds. This particular treasure is a broken bone fork, both of the tines snapped off at varying lengths. "Very nice," I tell him, and he preens with pleasure, his little tail moving with excitement. "We'll save that one to show your papa later. He'll be very impressed."

Pak tucks the find reverently into his jingling bag, and I sift through the sands, looking for other utensils that can be washed and used. Everything we make is of bone, though, and it isn't the sturdiest of materials.

"Hey," a voice calls. "Steph, can you help us with this?"

I get to my feet, scanning the beach. Devi waves a short distance away, close to the water. She gestures behind her, at a massive shell-beast that looks as if it's paused on its way into the waters and decided to stop on the shore at the tide's edge. I frown at the sight. Most of the time, the creatures are an impressive sight to see when they go back to the water. They rise up out of the sand like something out of a monster movie, spraying grit everywhere, and surge forward. As they do, the tentacles fling sand back over the hole they've just left to cover the eggs, and then they move in a straight line, heading for the water. Once they sink in, they move quickly, and then they're gone in a flash. The sight's been a regular one for the last week or so, as more and more of the creatures lay their eggs on the warm sands and then depart, but I've never seen one just sit at the water's edge and stay there.

"Stay close to me, Pak," I say, holding my hand out.

Pak moves to my side, and we head toward Devi. She's been all over the creatures—which she swears aren't dangerous unless we get squashed—and she's been non-stop excitement. Even today, she looks thrilled, though she has to be tired at this point. I don't think she's slept a wink since the creatures arrived. She's been too busy studying them.

"Hey Devi," I call out as we approach. "What's up?"

"Oh Steph! This is so exciting!" Devi bounces, gesturing at the creature near the water. "There's one that's sick and needs help getting back into the water. And if it dies on the shore, I'm going to dissect it!" Her eyes are wide with enthusiasm. "So I'm kinda torn. I want it to live but I also want to get a good look at their insides."

Pak tilts his head. "What's dye-sek mean?"

"It means Devi's going to help the thing feel better," I say with a warning look. The kids here have a better grasp on life and death than kids their age back home, but I still think dissection might be too much for little Pak. "Isn't that right?"

"Yup! So will you help us try and move it into the water?" She thumbs a gesture at the shore. "There's a few people already there, and if it dies farther up on the sand, it's going to be hell to get rid of."

She's got a point. I can only imagine a rotting, fishy carcass the size of a house stinking up the shore. "Say no more. What do you need?"

"We've got some spears and we're using those to dig out some of the sand underneath the tentacles. I'll show you." When I hesitate, gesturing at Pak, she just bounds away. "Daisy's there. She can watch him."

Right. Because I'd be more help digging out a dead creature than Daisy, who'd probably break a nail. Poor Daisy. She'd have so much to offer if she thought higher of herself. I shake my head at the thought. "I can help with the digging, I think. Who do you have helping?"

"N'dek's with me, of course," Devi says, affection in her tone. Not surprising, given that she and her mate are rarely a few steps apart. "Sam. And Daisy, but she's not being all that helpful. O'jek's there, too."

Hopefully that should be more than enough to give the creature the shove it needs into the water.

I follow behind Devi as she leads us forward, and as we get closer to the water's edge, I can see the others gathered around the far side of the creature. Daisy stands next to O'jek while Sam and N'dek busily dig into the sand with their spears. "I brought help," Devi calls out. "We have a spear for Steph, right?"

"Miss Waiting-For-Resonance?" Daisy teases, making me blush. "I'm surprised we could pull the two of them apart long enough for Steph to join us."

I smile, because it's true, we haven't been the most secretive about what we're doing. Since the guys are all alien, they have far better olfactory senses than we do, and it's blatantly obvious that we're fooling around under the furs at night. Or in the daytime. Or anytime, really.

"Waiting for resonance?" O'jek asks, frowning in my direction.

I shrug, still smiling. "Guess I changed my mind." I squeeze Pak's tiny hand. "Will you go stand by Daisy, sweetie? I'm going to help them move this thing."

Daisy drops to her knees and beams at Pak. "Come here, you cutie. You can stand with me off to the side and we can critique their technique."

Pak races over to her, tail wiggling. "What's a crit-eek?"

"Nothing that we want," Sam mutters, wiping her brow as she leans on her spear. "Are we sure this thing isn't dead already?" She eyes the shell-beast critically. "It hasn't moved in a while."

"It's still alive," Devi says, rushing over to our sides. She puts a hand on the creature's shell, and then kneels in the sandy, freshly dug trench next to it. "Look at the tentacles. They're dried out but not discolored, so it'll probably recover once it gets in the water." She sighs at the sight of the tide, farther down the beach. "It's just getting it to the water."

"Will the tide come in this far?" I ask, taking the spear that N'dek hands to me.

"Not quite," Devi says. "If we can get her in the water, we'll save her. If not, well…" She rubs her hands. "Science project!"

Sam looks at me and we both wrinkle our noses at the same time. For someone that loves animals, Devi should not be so excited to cut them apart and stare at their innards.

"Well, I'm here," I say to Devi. "Where do you want me?"

N'dek flicks his long braid off his shoulder and gestures at the sand in front of the creature. "If we dig a trench, the waves might roll in and fill it with water. Would that help?"

Devi leans over his arm, squeezing it. "Great idea, baby. We can try that!"

22

STEPH

We take spots ahead of the creature, which does look pretty pathetic. Its tentacles—normally a pinky-purple—are drooping and limp on the sand. The shell is covering most of it, but I can see the flat “foot” of the body just under the shell itself, and the edges do look a little…dry. I stand next to Sam and O'jek, and Devi and N'dek work on the other side, and we start digging with the spears. They're not great digging tools, so we mostly stab at the sand until N'dek jumps into the pit and uses all four of his hands to scoop the sand out as we loosen it up. After that, things go faster.

Daisy and Pak sit a short distance away from both creature and shore, and I find myself constantly looking up to check on them. Pak sits in her lap, singing a counting game under his breath as Daisy sings along with him. She's good with him, I realize, and it makes me relax a little.

"If you are waiting for resonance, you will be waiting a long time," O'jek says, out of the blue. "The Outcast clan does not resonate."

"Well, that came out of nowhere," Sam murmurs.

I'm not offended. O'jek clearly has something bothering him, and he feels comfortable enough to bring it up. This is the perfect opportunity for me to ask questions. "But Pak is Outcast, and his mother was Outcast," I point out. "Doesn't this disprove your theory?"

He shrugs, stabbing his spear almost violently into the sand. "Most Outcast," he says. "Most Outcast do not. Pak's mother was special."

"Recessive genes can sometimes lead to male sterility," Devi adds helpfully. "I can't remember what I read on it back in the day, but I do know that is sometimes the case. Do you think that's the situation here?"

"I'm not sure," I say. "Since most of the traits that cause people to be Outcast are cosmetic, are they not? Look at Juth. He's strong and handsome. The only reason he doesn't fit in with your idea of clan markers is because of his shortened tail and his small horns. He—"

"His fur, too," O'jek says suddenly.

"What?" I ask, pausing in my digging.

"He has very little face scruff," O'jek continues. "Nor does he have much on his arms or legs. He does not have the spirit of any clan in him, so he is Outcast."

"And do you agree with this?" I ask, since O'jek is the one that brought it up. "You think it is fair that because someone's tail does not look as you think it should, that he should be outcast from everyone? His tail does not change how he hunts. Pak's hair color does not affect anything, but he is considered outcast, too."

"Those are the rules set by the ancestors," O'jek says in a firm voice. "That is how it has always been."

"I didn't ask who set the rule," I point out softly. "I asked what you thought of it. Do you agree?"

O'jek is silent. He continues to work, stabbing at the sands, and I wonder what he thinks of my gently probing questions.

"What if someone lost their horns?" Sam asks suddenly. "Would they be considered Outcast?"

"I lost my leg and I was not Outcast," N'dek offers, slinging double-handfuls of sand onto the hill steadily forming off to the side. "Perhaps I should have been, but there are no rules for how many feet."

O'jek grunts. "That is different and you know it."

N'dek just shrugs. "Sometimes I wonder. I was more of a burden to my clan than Juth would have been. He is an excellent hunter."

Part of me preens inwardly at the praise for Juth from N'dek. I'm going to tell him about that later, but for now, the conversation we're having is too important to interrupt. "What if we had joined you on the island?"

"Then we would all be eating ash," O'jek says in a sour voice.

"No, really. What if there was no volcano—no smoking mountain—and we all lived on the island with you? Would we all be considered Outcast because we don't look like you? Because we're human?"

O'jek shoots me an exasperated look, and I suspect he's reached his limit. "If there was no Smoking Mountain, there would still be four clans and my family would be alive. All of the clans would be whole and healthy, so this is a foolish argument to make."

I shrug, digging as I do. "I was just curious. It's something to think about—how much a person's appearance matters versus how much they contribute to the group as a whole."

I don't point out that Daisy is not great at contributing anything but being pretty, and no one nags her about it…except possibly me, because I want her to realize that she is worth more than her prettiness. I want her to want to become a productive part of the group so people will respect her more. Everyone tolerates her like just another kit, but I worry that someday if food is thin, people won't be quite so forgiving.

"Humans dye their hair, you know," Devi points out. She wipes her brow, then reaches down and tweaks her mate's braid in an affectionate gesture. "You're killing this, N'dek. Good job, baby."

"I cannot kill this," N'dek says, gesturing at the sand. "I am digging. Did you wish me to kill something?"

"That's true," Sam adds. "We color our hair all the time and we can wear colored contacts to change the way our eyes look. And tattoos change how your skin looks, in a way. You can do all kinds of things to your appearance and they don't matter. They shouldn't matter."

O'jek is silent for a long moment, and we return to our digging. In the distance, I hear Daisy and Pak laughing over something, and Pak's happiness make my heart light. He's the cutest kid. How anyone could look at him and decide he's not quite “enough” doesn't sit right with me. I shove the end of my spear into the still-reddish sand, deep, and I almost miss O'jek's next comment.

"They do not resonate, though." He digs harder, not looking at me, as if he knows his words are petty and unwelcome. "What happened with Pak's mother is a fluke."

I watch him, annoyance breaking through my calm therapist mien. "So let me get this straight. Pak's mom is a fluke. My arrival—and that of every other human on this planet—is a fluke. The volcano erupting and destroying your home is a fluke. These creatures on the beach invading our home is a fluke." I gesture at our surroundings. "To you, everything is a fucking fluke. How about you call it what it really is? You don't have the answers and you don't like it when things don't happen in a predictable way. Maybe you're trying to come up with reasons not to like Juth when really, you're just jealous that he has everything you want."

O'jek scowls at me but doesn't leave. In fact, he stops working and just stares. Hard. The others have stopped working, too. Sam watches me with a surprised expression, as if she can't believe all that anger has erupted from me. N'dek pauses in his digging, grinning. In fact, everyone looks at me for so long that I start to get uncomfortable.

I remind myself that feeling defensive is just an assumption of guilt, and I know I've done nothing wrong. I keep my tone calm and even, and above all, friendly. "You're all staring at me. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"I think that's the fiercest I've ever seen you," Sam admits, smiling.

"I just…don't like it when things are unfair." And O'jek's opinions definitely feel unfair. More than that, I don't want him to sway the opinions of the others.

I watch as Pak and Daisy get up. Pak is smiling, though, and he races directly toward the trench we're digging and leaps over it. My heart pounds with fright and I reach out to grab him—only for a bigger pair of arms to swoop in and pluck him out of the air right next to me.

Juth.

He's wearing a thick, long, white fur cloak, the hood pushed back. He's also wearing a pair of boots that crisscross up his strong calves and the belt he used to wear at his waist is slung over one shoulder and drapes across his broad chest, his hips covered by the familiar leather kilt. He looks a little bit domesticated, a little bit wild, and good enough to eat. I can't stop staring at him. His hair's tousled in the wind coming off of the sea, and there's a few grains of sand on one strong arm as he holds his son, and I just want to lick Juth all over. All over. Top to bottom.

Slowly.

The big guy just does something to me.

Pak squeals with delight, giggling as his father tosses him into the air again, and Juth is all smiles. He turns to look at me, and his smile grows a bit wider, a bit more possessive. I wonder how long he's been there…and if he heard everything I said to O'jek. I blush, glancing over at Sam. She has a hint of a smile curving her mouth, and I suspect everyone stopped digging because Juth was behind me, not because I spoke up so passionately.

"You are back early, Papa!" Pak says excitedly. "Are you going to help us dig a hole?"

"A hole?" Is that what you are doing?" He tickles his son, then gives us all a guarded look, as if waiting for someone to shame him for speaking aloud when others are around. I'm glad when the uneasy expression fades once more. "I am coming to retrieve Steff. We are going to go hunting together until the evening meal is ready."

My face turns red as both Devi and Sam shoot me knowing looks. The only hunting Juth is going to be doing is under my skirt, hunting for my next orgasm. Still, if we say we're hunting, then we can buy some time alone, and the thought makes me weak in the knees with anticipation.

Pak groans. "Papa, take me with you."

"Some other time," Juth says. "I promise."

"But when you're with Steff, you press your faces together instead of hunting," Pak complains, holding onto his father's neck. "If I come with you, I can hunt!"

And now I really do want to hide with embarrassment. Pressing faces together, indeed.

"I have an idea," Daisy says, speaking up. "Pak, I just remembered a game back on Earth that we used to play when I was little. It was called hopscotch, and I bet you and I can play it right here on the beach. Want to?"

"Oh, hopscotch. I remember that." Sam chuckles. "We used to play it all the time when I was a kid, because all you needed was chalk and a rock."

"On the beach, you don't even need chalk." Daisy holds a hand out to Pak and shoots me a wink. "Want to play?"

Pak hesitates, then nods. "Can we pick out a pretty rock?"

"We can absolutely do that. Let's go scour the beach for one, shall we?"

Juth sets his son down, and then Pak leaps over the trench again (scaring me half to death in the process) and racing over to Daisy's side. My new mate moves to my side, his hand warm and strong on my back. It sends a hot shiver through me, and my pulse starts thrumming below the belt. He leans in, his breath tickling my ear. "Do you want to go hunting?"

"Hunting sounds great," I echo, since we're all keeping this pretense up. "I was helping get this thing back out to sea, though. Seems wrong to leave when we're so close to done."

He brushes his lips over my temple. "I will help, then."

I'm both happy he's doing a team-oriented task, and a little miffed at myself that I even suggested it, because now I'm all turned on at the promise of sex, and I'm positive that both N'dek and O'jek are going to be able to tell. But the tide is coming in, and the trench starts to fill up with water even as we dig, and then we all get behind it and shove as the first brush of the ocean waves touch the shell-beast's tentacles. The creature perks up a little, then, making a weak effort to get into the water on its own. The sand erodes around us even as we push it forward, but we're successful a short time later when it starts to drift deeper into the waves.

N'dek breathes a sigh of relief. "One fewer problem to worry about."

"Aw," Devi says, and she looks terribly disappointed. "I was kinda hoping I'd get to dissect it."

He places a big hand on his mate's head, stroking Devi's silky black hair. "Some other time."

I bite my lip and look over at Juth, who's watching me with a burning look in his eyes. The sight of it makes my knees weak all over again, and I glance to where Daisy is hopping with Pak farther down the beach. She looks over at us and waves, and then gives a thumbs-up, letting me know we're good. We have a little time to ourselves, then, and I take back every frustrated thought I've had about Daisy. Maybe we just need to find the right focus for her to help with the tribe.

Juth comes to my side as I brush sand off my hands, and he pulls me against him. "You look deep in thought."

My face feels hot, but I'm close to not even caring any longer. Let the others see us touch each other. Doesn't matter. I lean in against him. "Just thinking about where we're going hunting. Someplace…quiet?"

He leans in and his lips practically move against my ear, sending skitters of longing through me. "It will not be quiet for long. My mate is always very, very noisy when she gets pleasured."

Oh dear god. My nipples prick against my clothes and I want to rip them all off and fling myself into Juth's arms. I take the hand he holds out to me and clutch it tight as we practically run in our haste to score a few minutes alone. I'm pretty sure I hear Sam stifle a chuckle behind us, but I'm also pretty damned sure I don't care. I just need Juth. Need how good he makes me feel. Need his mouth on my body, licking and teasing me until I come, over and over again.

Juth always walks fast, so it's a bit of a hike for me to keep up with him. I feel like I'm racing as we head up the sandy slope, toward the cliffs. Instead of heading for the caves and the campfire a short distance away, however, he steers me a bit farther down the way, past the normal area that everyone hangs out in. I don't really notice where we're going—all I know is that Juth is leading me with long, sure strides.

When he leads me inside a cave, I'm a little surprised to see that it's the small nook that Bridget has claimed for her pottery. As caves go, it's pretty stingy. It's barely larger than my closet back home, and it doesn't feel as if there's enough room to get comfortable, especially with a much bigger alien at my side. But Bridget's pottery has been cleared from the floor, with only a few half-made pots lined up along the back wall, and it's quiet. As I look around, Juth slings the thick fur cloak off of his shoulders and drapes it on the floor.

"Here?" I whisper, even though we're alone.

In response, Juth pulls off the first layer of my clothing. I always wear several furs, because the wind can get cutting in the early mornings and at night, and layers help. He tugs off the woolly poncho-cut fur I wear over my clothes, setting it carefully down on the floor next to his cloak. His cautiousness is a little more recent. Normally we tear at each other like wild animals, but I scratched my arm on a rock last time and bled everywhere, and Juth was so upset I'd been hurt that it killed the mood.

Today, he is clearly a man with a plan, and if I had panties, they'd be wet.

Luckily for me, there are no panties here. Or if there are, they're leather and downright uncomfortable and I don't bother. They wouldn't last long anyhow. Juth peels another layer of clothing off of me with single-minded purpose, the look on his face making me want to melt into a puddle of lust. He takes my belt in one of his big hands and unties the knot, then flings it to the ground.

23

STEPH

“How much time do you think we have today?" I whisper, fascinated by my mate’s methodical, hungry movements. Normally our stolen moments are utterly frantic, and he'd have me face-down (and ass up) by now. The fact that he's taking the time to undress me fills me with a needy yearning. I love our stolen moments together. I do. I love when we can touch, but it makes me ache for more. I've never been a girl that needed dick to get off. I'm happy with fingers and an enthusiastic mouth, I really am. But Juth gives me orgasms all the time—twice as many as I give him—and it makes me want to share those toe-curling moments with him. I want to feel his body piercing mine. I want to wrap myself around him, and I want to hold him close and stare into his eyes when he comes inside me. It's a level of intimacy we haven't gotten to yet, and I find as he tugs my tunic top off, I crave that intimacy.

I'm aching and hollow inside with need for him.

"You didn't answer me." I run my hand up his arm as he reaches for the knot that holds my double-strength breast-band together. He's fascinated with my breasts, I think. He loves to free them and watch them bounce, then tease the tips with his mouth while his other hand works my pussy. I love it. God, I love all of it, really. I'm addicted to him and his touches, because I know that the one that is slightly exploratory and cautious today is going to be greedy and assertive the next time. He learns what I like and he applies it like a musician learning an instrument.

He tugs apart the knot, and the elaborate network of straps I use to keep everything from jiggling falls apart. My breasts spill out and Juth groans, utterly entranced at the sight. He always makes me feel so damn good. My boobs have been heavy all my life, and as a result, they're not particularly perky or bouncy. Juth looks at them as if they're the best tits ever, though. He reverently touches one as if he's never seen anything as perfect and gorgeous as my heavy breast, and in his eyes, I'm the sexiest creature alive. It makes me bolder, and I reach out and rip his kilt off his hips, revealing his hard cock and heavy sac to my gaze.

"You defended me in front of O'jek," Juth murmurs, cupping my breast and teasing the nipple with soft movements of his thumb. "He said things about Outcast clan and you got mad at him. You told him he was wrong."

It's hard to think when he's touching me like that, but I try anyhow. "I don't like anyone thinking that you're less just because your tail looks a little different. It's just a tail. No one has the right to make anyone feel like less because of how they look."

"You defended me," he says with another incredulous shake of his head. "You were proud of me."

"Of course I am," I say softly. "I'm your mate."

He groans and drops to his knees on the furs, then pulls me down with him. I slide against his big body, wrapping my arms around his neck as his mouth meets mine. We kiss hungrily, and it doesn't matter that I'm slightly sweaty and topless and one of my breasts is probably flattened into a pancake against his chest. He kisses me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters, and it suddenly makes me angry. Juth shouldn't be so surprised and moved when someone defends him. Everyone needs to realize how fucking amazing he is.

"You're a good man," I tell him between hungry kisses. "You're a strong hunter and a wonderful dad." I bite down lightly on his lower lip, because I know he loves the scrape of my teeth. "And you're an amazing lover. Never let anyone make you feel like you're not worth it. You are."

"This is why you courted me for so long?" he asks, his gaze reverent and full of so much emotion that it makes my heart hurt.

Courted? For so long? Does this seem like a long time to him? We mesh so well together sometimes it feels like he's always been mine, and I've always been his. Other times it feels so new that it's staggering. "Just know that I think you're the best man on the beach." I rake my nails lightly down his back. "The best kisser, the best dad, and absolutely the best at licking."

He slips a hand under my skirt, seeking out the heat between my thighs. "It is because my mate has such a tasty cunt. I cannot keep my mouth off of it."

I whimper as he claims my mouth in another scorching, claiming kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth in a way that leaves no doubt in my mind what he's thinking about. My body clenches around nothing, and it only increases the ache inside me. God, I want him, but I don't know how long we've got before dinner. "We need to be quick if we need to head back soon."

Juth doesn't answer me. He just kisses me again, and then cups my breasts in both his big hands and teases the nipples.

I moan, rubbing up against him when he coaxes the tips into points. "Maybe…" I breathe. "Maybe we have a bit more time."

He stares down at my breasts in fascination, his fingers moving over them. He always looks at me so intently, as if he has to study everything I react to in order to please me. It's like I'm the hardest test of his life and he's determined to ace it. I squirm a little as he caresses the underside of my breast, then grazes his fingers over a red mark left from the leather straps. "Why do you hide such glorious teats away?" he asks suddenly, surprising me. "Is it because you think I will not want the others to see them? Like my kilt?"

For once, all my composure deserts me. "Huh?"

Our eyes meet, and he rubs a maddening, enticing thumb across my nipple. "The male Ashtar told me I should wear a kilt because you would not like the other females staring at what belongs to you. That you are possessive of my body. Is that why you hide your teats away? You do not wish to show your beautiful body to the other males and make them jealous of me?"

Oh. That's a bizarre misunderstanding. Part of me wants to smack Ashtar for lying to him about why to wear a kilt over his loins, but then again, maybe in Ashtar's eyes, that's the truth? How do I explain human body shame to someone who thinks you only cover up when it's cold? I certainly don't want to teach that body shame to Pak, who loves to run around pants-less all day long, and I think it's cute because his little tail wags constantly. Do I tell Juth that the reason I bind my breasts so tightly is because I'm well aware that I'm a larger woman and flattening my chest not only stops things from bouncing, but it makes me look a little slimmer, a little more svelte under the thick furs we wear?

Looking up at his rugged face, full of alien planes and glowing blue eyes, I realize that to him, I am beautiful. I'm not short and dumpy. I'm not top-heavy or unimpressive. To him, I am glorious.

It's something I didn't know I needed to hear until just now.

"I wear it because everything shakes too much if I don't," I admit. "And because I've never liked them."

The look on his face is utterly incredulous. "Not like them? Why?"

"They're big—"

"So big," he breathes, his expression reverent as he gazes down at my boobs.

"—and not really perky."

He nods. "But I like the way they fall into my hand, as if they cannot resist my touch."

Well, that's one way of looking at it. I tangle my fingers in his hair as he teases my nipples again. "So that's why."

Juth shakes his head. "You take my breath away. I do not want you to hurt your body…" He pauses, stroking his fingers over a red-mark again. "But I like that I am the only one that gets to see just how beautiful you are. I think I would attack any male that looked at your teats, just because you are mine." He growls the last word, and then repeats it again. "All mine."

He makes me feel so damned pretty. So special. I lean in and press an urgent kiss to his mouth. "I love you, Juth."

"Of course you do. I am yours and you are mine." He nips lightly at my jaw with those sharp fangs of his, even as he pinches my nipple in a way that sends a hot skitter of pleasure through my body. His response makes me want to laugh. In his eyes, of course I love him. We're mates. It's that simple, at least to him. I suspect that just like the sa-khui, the islanders—and the Outcasts—aren't big on words. They prefer for it to be shown. I can say I love him a thousand times, but showing him is what matters.

So I capture his mouth again and kiss him harder.

Juth's hands slide to my ass and he clenches me against him, tugging me down until I'm on my back in the furs. He flips my skirt up in a familiar movement and gazes reverently at my pussy. "I will never grow tired of looking at you," he tells me. "The only thing better than looking is tasting."

I stop him before he goes down, head first, between my thighs. "Wait."

His hands rub up and down my thighs, and he gives me an impatient look, as if I'm keeping him from a well-deserved treat. "Steff—"

"I want all of you today," I say softly. "I want more than this. Not that this isn't good. It's just…I don't want you to just give me pleasure. I want to share it with you." I reach for him, a silent invitation in my eyes. "I want you inside of me. I want to be your mate in all ways."

For the first time, uncertainty crosses his face. His hands skim up my thighs again, and he teases a finger up and down my folds, toying with the wetness there. "I know how to pleasure you like this."

Is that what he's worried about? That somehow he won't make things good for me if he uses his cock? "I promise you, there will be tons of pleasure in it for both of us."

His hand skims down between my legs again. He rubs a finger between my folds and then pushes into me, his gaze locked on my face. When I gasp, he strokes deep inside me with his finger, pumping it. "This is just one finger, my mate. My cock is much, much bigger."

"I can take it." If anything, I'm excited about how big he is. I've never had sex with anyone as well-equipped as him and I want to know how it feels. I ache inside just thinking about it. I've seen the other men on the beach naked, because they're casual about nudity, and everyone's packing some serious heat in their loincloths, but no one ever complains about things.

Well, Bridget did, but once she and A'tam figured themselves out, she's been all smiles ever since. She's even gushed to me that she loves his “huge cock” now.

So do I want to experience Juth's enormous equipment? God, yes. I'm not afraid in the slightest.

"If I'm wet, I can take you," I say softly. "And I'm very, very wet."

He pumps his finger into me slowly, watching my face. My body is making embarrassingly wet sucking sounds, but I don't care. It just means I'm turned on and ready for him. I spread my thighs wider, encouraging him, and he groans, moving forward and nuzzling at the curls covering my mound. "I need you," he growls. "I ache with needing you."

His words send a quiver through my body. "I'm right here." I reach for him, tugging on his arm. "Cover me with your body. It's going to feel so amazing," I coax. "You on top of me, your cock so deep inside me."

He groans again, turned on by my words, and he surges up over me so quickly that I smother a gasp. Juth lies fully on top of me, his weight heavy and intense. It presses on me, but not in a way that's uncomfortable, just weighty and solid. I wiggle underneath him, shifting my weight until his hips are aligned with mine, his cock pressing against my pussy. He looms over me, his height difference more evident now than ever, and I feel dainty and small underneath him, which is something I normally never feel. It's…nice. So nice.

Juth sits up, bracing his arms next to my head, and he gazes down at me with a dazed, almost frantic look on his face, as if he's desperately trying to decide how we fit together. I slide my hands over his sides, caressing him, and rock my hips forward. His breath catches and he looks down at where we're pressed together, fascinated. As he gazes down at our bodies, he mimics my action, rocking his hips, and his cock drags through my folds.

"Oooh." I'm blown away at how good he feels. I want to close my eyes and just drown in sensation, but I don't want him to feel as if the responsibility to give me pleasure is entirely his. I'm in this, just as much as him. So I run my hands over his body. "You feel so good," I whisper to him. "I love how big your cock feels when you rub it against me like that."

He rocks his hips again, dragging his thick shaft through my folds, and it feels so good that my eyes practically cross. He rubs against me, back and forth, until we're both crazy with need. I dig my fingernails into his skin, moving my hips with his to try and increase the friction, and when he pulls back, I arch up.

The head of his cock presses against my entrance, and I whimper with need. "Just like that, Juth. Push into me. Fill your mate up."

Breath raspy, Juth ducks his head again, watching where our bodies come together, and he adjusts his cock so he can hit just the right spot. I feel the head of him breach my body, and then he pulls away, rocking against me again. "You are tight," he pants. "I do not know—"

"It's good," I promise him. "I'm going to be really tight at first, but I'll stretch to fit you. And it'll feel so good, too. Wait and see. You think it feels good to have my hands on you, wait until you're deep inside me, with my pussy clenching you tight." I've never been much of a dirty talker, usually content to let my partner take the lead, but Juth seems to need that filthy encouragement. He's too afraid of hurting me, which is sweet, but utterly misguided.

He could absolutely wreck my pussy and I would smile the entire time.

So I whisper soft, dirty words of encouragement. "You know you have the thickest cock on the beach? I bet it's so thick that it's going to feel amazing inside me. You're going to make me stretch hard to take you, aren't you? And it's going to feel so damned good."

Juth growls my name, pushing the head of his cock against the entrance to my core again. This time he presses in a little harder, and it does feel like…a lot. But it only excites me instead of worrying me. Human bodies—especially that part—can take a pounding. And right now? I absolutely want a pounding from my mate.

"You're going to make me come so hard, aren't you?" I pant as he thrusts shallowly into my body. It feels as if he's using just the tip, and it's both incredible and not nearly enough. "You're going to stuff me full of this big, fat cock and pound me until I can't see straight. Then you're going to fill me with so much come it's going to spill out of my body and get this blanket all messy."

Juth lets out a low, hungry sound of need. "Steff—"

"Do it," I encourage him. "I know you won't hurt me. You're going to make me feel good. You're going to fuck me so hard that when we're done, I'm going to walk funny. Everyone that sees me is going to know that Juth was claiming his mate and making her scream—"

He groans my name again, and then Juth pushes into me.

I let out a little cry, clinging to him. It's raw and intense, and I can feel him trembling over me. I stroke my hands over his body again, trying to show him how much I love this. "That's so good," I tell him. "You feel so good. Keep going."

"Do…you…hurt?" He grits out each word as if pained.

"No. Feels amazing." And it does. After the initial shock of his invasion, the tightness goes away and I'm left with nothing but pleasure. "I want you deeper."

He grunts, and then gives a small, hard thrust. Just when I thought I couldn't be any more full, he pushes me to the limit. He shifts his weight, settling against me, and as he does, I feel it brush against my clit—his spur. Oh. I wriggle underneath him, feeling a bit like a speared fish, testing out the feel of our joined bodies.

"Good?" I ask him, running my fingers along his jaw.

In response, Juth nips at my fingertips, and the look in his eyes is wild. His skin is damp with sweat, as if he's desperately trying to keep control. As I gaze up at him, his color flutters, just a little, and I'm reminded of his camouflage. He looks beautiful over me, handsome yet feral, and just barely restrained.

"My mate," I whisper, dipping one of my fingers into his mouth so he can bite down on me. I want everything he has to give me. I want him to feel just as overwhelmed as I do. "Feels so good, the way you're stretching me. Am I too tight for you?"

Juth groans, his hips jerking. I realize he's been desperately trying to hold himself still…for what? So he won't hurt me? Does he still think he's too much for me? That's just not true. I lift my hips, and even though I feel full and tight with his cock, I rock my hips, trying to increase the pleasure between us.

"Steff," he manages thickly. "I need…"

"I know. I'm right here. Take what you need. It'll feel good, I promise."

His breathing jerky, Juth pushes against me, then pulls back, slowly. He drives into me with the next movement, and it feels…really good. It's a bit like a punch to the girl parts with the intensity of it, but I gasp, my nails digging into his big body as he moves.

"More," I tell him.

It's an unleashing. Juth makes an utterly wild noise in his throat, and then he thrusts into me again. And again. His movements aren't measured or tame, and there's no rhythm to follow and meet. I hold onto him desperately, letting him use me, because I can always come after he's gotten his. He needs this, badly. Me and my vagina will just be martyrs to his need.

I hadn't counted on the spur, though. Or the ridges on his cock that weren't all that noticeable until he starts to move inside me.

Then, I notice everything. Dear god, do I notice. As he drives into me, each ridge feels like it's dragging along my insides, brushing over all my sensitive parts. Each time he pushes deep into me, his spur rubs against my clit. It's a constant barrage of sensation that makes me react, despite my decision to let him use me as he needs. Instead of lying passively underneath him, I find myself making small whimpering noises as he pounds my pussy, because he's making an orgasm build slowly, deeply inside me.

"Juth." I keen his name as he thrusts over me. I dig my nails in, my hands scrabbling at his skin as he teases that orgasm closer and closer to the surface. "Oh, fuck. I need—I need—keep going—don't stop—"

"Steff," he groans, and I know he's close.

I want to tell him that it's all right, that I'll get that orgasm next time, but when I open my mouth, his spur drags against my clit in that perfect way, and the only sound that comes out of me is a choked gasp as everything inside me shivers with release. The orgasm barrels through me, so hot and brilliant that stars swim before my eyes. It feels as if my entire body is clenching up and folding over, and I try to curl around my mate, because it's so, so good and too much at the same time.

"My mate," Juth says, pumping into me. "My mate. Mine."

I'm barely aware of his release, too lost in my own as he keeps nudging and bumping against my clit. I cling to him, letting the pleasure wash over me, and when he collapses in my arms, I manage a soft laugh, holding him tight.

We remain locked together, a sweaty pretzel, for a time. I don't mind that he's crushingly heavy, because it feels good. In fact, when he finally raises up on his elbows, I make a small noise of protest.

Juth studies my face, gazing down at me. I'm pretty much at his chest level, but I just give him a content smile and sigh. "Best way to spend an afternoon," I murmur. "Absolute best."

"Did I hurt you?" he asks. "Was I too much?"

"God, no. That was great." I heave another happy sigh, enjoying the languid aftermath of pleasure. "You were amazing."

"I have never done that before," Juth admits, one hand stealing up to tease my breast. "I was not sure if it would be better than your mouth."

I chuckle. "And is it?"

"I have decided that I like both. One is fresh, bloody meat straight from the kill. The other is a warm soup by the fire. Both are good." He slides his cock out of my body and then collapses onto the furs next to me. "Very, very good."

Most girls would probably hate for their vagina to be compared to soup, but I know Juth, and I know it's a compliment. "So you'd want to do that again sometime?"

"Oh yes," he says quickly. "Perhaps even now."

I look over at him, surprised. "Now?"

He grins. "My cock needs a moment to breathe before it regains its strength, but I do not."

Oh dear lord, I've created a monster. I bite back a giggle as he reaches for me again. We have the afternoon. Might as well use it.

24

STEPH

By the time it gets dark, we clean up and try to make ourselves respectable to rejoin the group by the fire. I feel as if I look (and reek) of sex despite washing up, and my hair is tangled and snarled right at the back of my head from the pounding I got on the furs. We made love three times in quick succession. I didn't come the second time, content to hold Juth, but he insisted on working my pussy and teasing me to orgasm before he pushed inside me again.

No complaints here.

My legs feel like noodles as we hold hands and walk back to the encampment. Everyone's scattered tonight, with Bek and Vordis down near the cliffs, pointing and surveying, as if trying to determine where future homes will be. Elly's nursing a cup of tea by the fire, chatting quietly with Veronica. I don't see Gail or Daisy, but Vaza has all the kits gathered near him, and he looks to be telling a story, complete with expressive hand gestures. Sam's in charge of food tonight, and it smells amazing. Either that, or I've worked up an intense appetite.

Harlow and Rukh are chatting with Raahosh, and the moment they see us, Raahosh gestures for Juth to join them. "Tell us about the game trails today," Raahosh says. "I am curious if you saw metlaks. Rukh swears he saw one in the area."

"Metlak? I do not know this word," Juth says, hesitating. He pulls me against him and gives me a fierce hug, kissing the top of my head. "I will be back soon," he promises in a soft voice, and then abandons me to join the others.

Smiling, I head for the fire to claim a seat nearby.

When the food is ready, Sam offers me a bowl. No sooner do I take it than Daisy saunters into camp, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. She sits next to me, crossing her legs delicately, and leans in. "Do we get the gory details?"

"Nope," I say, stirring my soup.

Daisy pouts. "But you guys were gone all afternoon. Surely you're going to tell us a little something about Juth?"

"There's nothing little about Juth," I tease back.

Elly coughs into her tea, and Daisy squeals. "Oh my god, you tramp! I love it!" She wraps her arms around one of mine, ignoring the fact that I'm trying to eat. "You two were gone for a while. Should we consider this the honeymoon or will you need more babysitting?" She leans in. "Also I know a trick to get rid of those hickies."

Hickies? I want to touch my neck, because I remember Juth nuzzling and kissing me there, but my hands are full.

"I have to admit," Sam says as she makes herself a bowl of food and sits down on the other side of me. "You were so fired up about waiting for resonance that I'm surprised you've fallen into domestic bliss so quickly."

Jeez, they're making me sound like some sort of resonance stickler. "Doesn't everyone want resonance at some point?"

"Oh yes," Daisy gushes, a dreamy look on her face.

Sam's expression grows tight. "Not everyone, no."

I watch her, but she doesn't elaborate. Okay, then. I'll have to prod her some other time when there's less people around. "I'm fine with resonance, or not, really. It's not that I want kids right away or anything. I just…make bad choices when it comes to romance, so I figured I'd let the khui choose for me."

Daisy leans in, whispering. "I thought you were gay, actually. Was kinda hoping you and Flor would be a thing."

Oh boy. Daisy's more observant than I give her credit for. "I'm bi," I whisper back, "And I'd really like to keep that Flor thing on the down-low. I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

Daisy winks and makes a lip-zipping motion.

"You say you want the khui to choose," Sam points out. "But here you are, shacking up with Juth. I mean, he seems nice and you guys seem happy, but that's not exactly letting the khui choose."

Daisy puts her head on my shoulder, as if we're best friends. "Is it because of Pak, then? He's the cutest. I can totally understand sliding in for that package deal. Such a sweet little guy. I adore him."

I glance over where Pak is listening to Vaza's story. He's got his thumb in his mouth, seated next to Rukhar on a blanket tossed on the sands. His little tail moves slowly back and forth, a blond puff of excitement, and his eyes are wide as he watches Vaza with fascination. He is absolutely an easy kid to love, and I've spent so much time with him and Juth that I've come to think of him as my kid. It doesn't feel weird to wake up in the morning and get him dressed, or to spend the day with him at my side. It's…surprisingly easy.

"I love Pak," I admit. "But that wasn't the deciding factor."

"Did the khui choose after all?" Sam asks. "Did you just not tell us?"

I bite my lip, wondering how much to share. There's nothing to be ashamed of, though. I'm allowed to change my mind, and telling them will get them off my back at least. "Actually, Juth decided. And I decided I agreed with him."

"Juth decided? What do you mean?" Sam gives me a quizzical look.

Quiet Elly frowns in my direction.

"He's not pressuring you, is he?" Sam turns upset, and I could swear that her bowl shakes as if she's trembling. "These guys aren't supposed to pressure anyone—"

"No no no," I say quickly. "It's not like that at all. It's just…" I think for a moment and then shrug. "So you guys know I liked to deliver the stuff for Juth and Pak, right? Well, Juth thought I was declaring that he was my mate and I was giving him gifts to show him what a good mate I would be." I smile at the thought. "And he was so attentive and lovely, and I realized I liked him, too. He said he wanted to join the tribe and it seemed silly to correct him."

"Aw!" Daisy's expression grows soft. "I love love. That's so sweet."

I glance around the fire, but it's just us. "I'd really like to not say anything to Juth, though—about the misunderstanding. I don't want his feelings to be hurt, and everything turned out the way I wanted it to anyhow." I smile, clutching my bowl close. "I'm really happy, actually. I don't care if I ever resonate or not. I just like being with him, and Pak is a wonderful kid."

"O'jek says that the Outcasts don't resonate." Daisy lets go of my arm. "So you probably don't have to worry about that."

It's on the tip of my tongue to say that O'jek can fall off a cliff for all I care, but that's just me being defensive. The logical, therapy-oriented part of my brain says that O'jek is blustering to hide some sort of unhappiness of his own. I shouldn't take it personally that he's so against Juth…but Juth needs someone on his side, and I love him, so I'm always going to stick up for him. "I don't think—"

"O'jek says what?" comes a familiar voice. The guy in question—O'jek—saunters up to the campfire and picks up a bowl. He glances over at the three of us as we sit nearby.

"Nothing," Daisy says sweetly. "Just girl talk. You wouldn't be interested."

He just grunts, and that kills our conversation, which suits me fine. People love to gossip here, and if I let it continue, they're going to run out of things to ask and then eventually it'll turn to how many orgasms I had today (three) and if Juth's tail underside is sensitive (yes) and if he's found my G-spot (not yet).

And really, some things are best kept between couples. Smiling, I pick up my spoon. Pak comes running over to my side, his eyes wide. He immediately climbs into my lap as if he's always belonged there. "Steff! Vaza told us a story!"

"Did he, now? What kind of story?" I automatically hand him my spoon and hold the bowl so he can eat my food, and look around for his handsome father.

Maybe it'll be a four-orgasm day if we can get Pak to sleep with the other kids tonight. I bite my lip at the thought.

25

JUTH

M y spirit is humming inside of me, so full of happiness that it feels as if it spills out onto the beach. I grin to myself as I check my traps, and I do not even mind that they are empty. There was a good catch yesterday, and there will be more tomorrow. One day does not matter so much. I have raced through my route, and I am even now circling back toward the encampment on the beach. It is not long past midday, which means if we can find someone to watch Pak for a time, I can pull Steff away and we can head to the cave again. My cock rises at the thought, remembering yesterday afternoon.

I have thought of little else since then.

I was certain nothing would feel better than Steff's mouth on my cock. While she is eager to do so, it does not compare to sinking deep into her body, to feeling her clench around me as she comes. Of watching her teats sway and shudder with every thrust I make into her, and watching her face as a climax tears through her. It is the best of all things, and I feel like a bad father, because I cannot wait to get away with her again. I cannot wait to send Pak to play with the other kits for the afternoon, so I can push into my mate and fill her cunt with my seed.

Once I reach the cliffs that cradle the beach, I scan the stretch of sand, looking for familiar faces. The kits are playing another game on the shore, racing around each other, and Pak's sharp scream of excitement is so piercing it carries up the cliffs to where I stand. I grin down at the group, amused. Even from a distance, I can pick out my son. He chases after the older boy, Rukhar, and he plays fiercely with them. I did not realize how much he needed others his age until we arrived here.

Steff is very wise. She knew we needed them. It is yet another thing that I cherish about my mate. She knows what she wants and will patiently work to make it happen. After all, she courted me for many turns of the moon, even when I was too foolish to grasp what she was offering. To think…I could have been deep inside my mate all this time.

Truly, I am the biggest of fools.

I scan the sands. Other than yesterday's straggler, the sands are clear once more. The reddish residue remains, as does the warmth, but the last of the great shell-beasts has returned to the waters, and now we just wait for the eggs to hatch. Once they are gone, we will be free to set up huts once more. I consider the best place to set up a home for my mate and my kit. It will need to be private, because Steff is not very quiet when my mouth is on her. It will need to be large enough for Pak to have his own bed, but not so far away from the group that we will be isolated.

I am learning that isolation is not always a good thing. Steff has shown me that. Amongst a tribe, we have food and shelter. We have others to help with problems, and someone to look after Pak if I need to share a moment with my mate.

I rub my chin, thinking. I will need to ask someone what is a proper dwelling. I have never had one before. In the past, if I needed shelter, I would find a cave or a tree, or create a lean-to out of leaves to wait out the worst of storms. It will be wisest to ask one of the others about the home they build for their mate, and copy their actions. Of all the males, I get along with Ashtar the best. The golden-skinned male takes nothing very seriously, and he is not from any of the old clans, so he does not look upon me as less. N'dek of Strong Arm is friendly enough, I suppose, but he is often busy with his mate's strange plans. O'jek remains as remote as usual, which suits me fine. Shadow Cat holds onto the old ways the fiercest.

My hut will need to be far away from Shadow Cat, then. I ponder this. Perhaps it would be wisest to wait and see where the others set up their huts, and then choose a location. As much as I wish for privacy with Steff, I am not sure I want my hut to be in the center of another clan's territory. Steff says that the old clans are no more, but I think that is a bit optimistic. She—

"Are you going to stand there all day?" The sour voice comes from behind me.

I turn, the breeze snapping my cloak around my shoulders. O'jek leans on his spear behind me, his boots planted in the snow, his lip curled as he studies me.

"Is this what you do all day?" he asks. "While the rest of us hunt, you stand around and daydream? Do those daydreams fill your son's belly?" He gives me a look of disgust. "Or do you expect us to feed you while you sit around?"

"Why not?" I taunt. "The female you sniff after does nothing all day long, but you do not seem to have a problem with feeding her." I am pleased by the angry look that darkens his face. Did I strike a nerve? Good. I want him to walk away angry. Everyone else has been pleasant, but O'jek…

O'jek is Shadow Cat. I should know better than to expect more.

"D'see is not my female," he spits out at me. "And I do not sniff after her. Even if I did, that is better than what you have done. You pushed a female into mating with you."

Now he insults my mate. "I did no such thing. My Steff chose me."

"Chose you?" he scoffs. "Unlikely. You forced the female to become yours. That is the only way an Outcast can find a female, so I should not be surprised that you bullied her into becoming your mate."

Bullied? My Steff? My smiling, wise, beautiful Steff? "You are wrong about this. All of this. She chose me." When he snorts with derision, I continue. "She brought me courting gifts. Daily. She tried to let me know that she wanted me to be her mate, only I was too stubborn to listen. But I did not force her to become mine." The very thought is disgusting.

O'jek smirks, the expression ugly. "You thought those were courting gifts?"

I think back to the food, the treats, the clothing. "What else would they be?"

"The entire tribe was sending you those baskets of food. They were not from Steff. She was just the one that was delivering it." He looks at me as if I am a fool. "She merely wanted you to join the tribe. She had no thought of being your mate."

I frown at him, because this does not match up with what I know. He does not know Steff touched me, rubbed against me and claimed me as her own. He does not know about her hot mouth on my cock under the blankets, or her words as she encouraged me to mount her, to fill her with my seed and claim her with my cock. "You are full of lies."

O'jek just laughs. "Think what you like, but the female told D'see and S'am just yesterday that she had no intention of being anyone's mate. That she was waiting for resonance, but then you demanded her to be yours, and she went along with it because she wanted you to join the tribe. It seems a foolish reason, but perhaps she is a foolish female."

I clench my fists, angry that he would say such things about my Steff. She is a clever, kind female…but she also sat with Sam and Daisy last night, and they were full of female giggles when I went to get my mate. Was something said, or is O'jek dripping poison into my ear?

I storm down the cliff paths, wanting to leave him and his taunting expression behind. Poison, I decide. It is nothing but poison, meant to tear me apart from my mate.

Even so, when I enter the camp, I spot her next to Sam. They have many hides spread out on the sands and are stitching them together to be the roof of a hut when it is safe to rebuild. Pak plays with a few colored rocks nearby, tossing them into a cup and then pouring them out on the sands again, and looking over at Steff each time he does so. As I approach, I watch her smile at my son and give him words of encouragement. She never treats him like an Outcast…or me, for that matter.

O'jek is wrong.

But if he is wrong, why do his words have a tinge of truth to them? Why am I marching over to my mate with cold fury in my gut?

Because Steff is kind, I realize as I look over at my sweet mate. Because it would absolutely be something that Steff would do—go along with someone simply because she did not wish to hurt their feelings. Because she would want to understand their motive behind what they are doing. She always wishes to understand everyone, even I'rec and O'jek.

And has not everyone declared such surprise that Steff took a mate without resonance? Have they not teased her about our mating, because she had declared that she would wait for resonance so many times? Those are not the actions of a tribe that knew a female was courting a male for many turns of the moons.

I feel cold. Miserable. Has everyone in this tribe been laughing at us all this time? Thinking Pak's father is a fool?

"Steff." I march toward her, clearing the distance between us with quick steps. She sits up, a welcoming smile on her face, and she is lovely. She wears many layers of furs as always, her teats tightly bound against her chest, but there is a pink flush to her cheeks and her skin is damp with sweat, tendrils of dark mane sticking to her neck.

"Just in time," she says happily, getting to her feet. "I could use a break—"

"Tell me true." I interrupt, needing to get the words out before she distracts me with a pretty smile. "Were you courting me with gifts? Did you truly wish to be my mate or were you trying to get me to join your tribe?"

Steff flinches, and I feel as if I have taken a fist to the gut. She does not need to say more, because now I know. Now I understand. Everything that O'jek has taunted me with is true. Now, the strange comments make sense and I feel like a fool. "It's not like that," Steff says. "Let's go sit down and talk about this in private."

"I do not wish to talk," I snap. "I wish for my mate to speak truth to me. But you are not even my mate, are you? It is a foolish mistake on my part that assumed you were. You never had any intention of mating with me."

"That's not true," she protests, hurt in her eyes.

"Did I push you into being my mate?" I demand. "Or was it your plan all along to court me?"

She bites her lip, and that is enough of an answer for me. I push past her, scooping up my son. I am ashamed. To think I have worked so hard to be a respectable hunter in the eyes of the tribe, and all the while they were laughing at me. And Steff—soft Steff—did not wish to be my mate but did not speak up. She let me go on believing that she wanted me.

But who would want an Outcast? No one. It was a ploy to get me to join their tribe, and I am ashamed at how wounded I feel. I should not care. Outcasts need no one, after all. That is what we are taught from childhood. But…I liked having a mate. I try to imagine waking up without my mate at my side and I feel hollow and empty.

I allowed myself to become attached, and that is my foolish mistake.

"Where are you going?" Steff asks, following behind as I storm down the beach with Pak in my arms. My son is silent, clinging to my neck, and I can feel the tension in his small body. He is upset, but he is falling back upon Outcast rules—do not speak to outsiders.

I decide I shall do the same. From now on, my words shall only be for Pak.

An Outcast only speaks to other Outcasts.

I cannot get hurt that way.

I storm away from the encampment. I do not care where we go, only that we leave. Someplace away from the shore, perhaps. High in the mountains, where I now know how to hunt. I want to shed the furs that they gave me to wear, the boots that protect my feet, to take nothing from them. But if I must be wise about this, I know I will need these things for survival if we are to have no tribe. Pak and I will use them, just as we did before.

Steff heads down the beach after me. "Juth, please, slow down. Wait, so I can explain."

I do not slow down. If anything, I walk faster. I want to get away from her. From her pitying looks and her pitying touches. Of course she never wanted an Outcast male. Steff is a beautiful, perfect female. She could have anyone, and I am a fool for thinking I was lucky to be chosen by her.

"You're not listening to me," she cries out. "Let's be logical about this, all right? You and me—"

Logical? So she is trying to understand me now? Trying to pick apart my thoughts like she does when she watches the others in her tribe? I turn for a moment, glaring at her.

Steff stops short. We gaze at each other for a moment, and her expression is full of misery. Misery because she has hurt me, I decide. Misery because she realizes she is cruel. "I just want you to understand from my perspective," she says softly. "Please don't walk away. Let's talk this through."

Talking. More of her picking apart thoughts so she can say what I wish to hear. There is no claiming of me in her words, no insistence that she is my mate. Instead, her thoughts are full of talk and logic. That is the last thing I want. So I clutch Pak tighter to me and break my own rule, right away. "Do not follow us. We are leaving."

"You're upset," she says patiently, her expression calm. "You need time to think things through. Take the afternoon. Think about our actions and when you're ready to talk, I will be here."

And she smiles at me, as if this makes everything better, when all it does is makes me angrier.

I turn and stride away, my chest hollow and aching. Never have I felt so…alone. Even when I was in the Outcast clan, I never felt like this. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Wounded to my very spirit.

"Papa?" Pak asks in a small voice.

"Not now," I tell him as I walk with quick, angry steps as far away as I can from the others.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from them," I say. "They are not our people. We are Outcast clan. We can depend on no one but ourselves. It will be as it was before."

"Will Steff be coming with us?" Pak asks.

"No." Hot pain courses through me. I try not to think about Steff and her soft smile, Steff and her large, heavy teats and enticing body, Steff and her mouth, and the way she chuckles low as she licks me clean after making me spill. No more Steff, because she did not want us anyhow.

Pak makes a whining sound in his throat, and to my surprise, he begins to cry. "But I am going to miss Steff. She takes care of me. She hugs me."

"I take care of you, too," I say, wounded anew. "We do not need her."

"We do." He buries his face against my neck, crying, and it only adds to my pain. In time, he will forget her, I tell myself.

I am not certain I ever will, though.

26

STEPH

I  try not to panic. Logic tells me that Juth is upset, that he needs some time away to think about things. That once he's ready to talk, we can discuss things. That until then, it's best that he get it out of his system, and when we're in a place to be calm, we can hash things out.

Logic tells me that's the best move.

It's just…my heart wants me to race after him. To beg him not to leave, to let me explain. To throw away hours and hours of psychology classes and cling to his leg, shouting that I love him. Logically, I know that you can't change a person. That if they're determined to leave, you can't stop them. And I know my actions should speak for themselves. If I wasn't in love with him, why would I touch him all the time? Be with him? Care about what happens to him so much?

Just because he was the one that suggested it first and I went along with it doesn't make it wrong. Just because it started as a misunderstanding doesn't change my feelings for him.

He just needs to stop and think.

So I take a few shuddering breaths, fight back my tears, and return to camp.

When he's ready to talk, I'll be here.

AS NIGHT FALLS, Juth and Pak don't return. I'm sure several people saw the blow-up and Juth storm away, because no one asks me questions about it. It just makes me feel worse. Did I do wrong in not talking to Juth about our mating? Should I have said, hey, actually, you didn't ask me properly but it's cool because I like you?

I thought it didn't matter because we were happy. I thought that was obvious. I told him I loved him. Doesn't he get what a big deal that is? Or does he think I was lying about that, too? That all of this is just a big farce for him to join the tribe?

Which…if so, it's a little insulting that he'd think I'd fuck him and suck his dick just so he'd be part of our group. Like, what kind of person does he think I am?

I go to sleep alone, and I worry about Juth. I worry about Pak, too. Is he going to miss me? Does he understand why his dad stormed away? Or is he confused and upset? My poor little buddy.

My poor Juth. I roll over in the furs, unable to sleep, because his scent is in the blankets we share. Normally this time of night, I'd be sliding under the furs to take his cock in my mouth, or he'd put his hand between my thighs to get me off before bedtime. We'd both be so furtive and quiet it was like a sexy game, and just thinking about that makes me ache.

He's coming back, I tell myself. He needs a night to himself, to work through his feelings, and then when he returns in the morning, we'll talk.

But in the morning, he isn't back, and I feel more helpless than ever. This isn't like having a fight back on Earth, where someone is only a phone call or a text away. If he just keeps walking and never returns…I can't ever explain to him the truth. He could just keep on going and never return, thinking I'm a terrible user.

The thought makes my stomach churn.

I drift through my chores that day, ignoring the pitying looks of the tribe. A few people come up to me, letting me know they're there for me if I want to talk, but I'm not sure I do. Juth will come back, I tell myself. He'll come back and I'll explain everything and then we'll kiss and it'll all be fine. He'll forgive me, and I'll show him I love him, and we'll be fine.

Juth and Pak aren't back the next day, either, though, and the hollow, awful feeling in my stomach grows worse.

I SIT on a fur blanket inside Bridget's pottery cave, spreading out collected leaves to dry for tea…and crying.

The last time I was here, I was with Juth, and we made love. I thought I couldn't be happier than that moment, but I also smugly took it for granted. I'd assumed we'd have all the time in the world to make love over and over again. That I had a lifetime of touches and affection and good sex to look forward to. So I cry as I dry the leaves, because at least here, I'm away from the sympathetic looks of the tribe. No one's giving me that expression of pity, or understanding. I'm by myself, which means I don't have to hold my shit together. I can cry it out for a while, and then move on.

If Juth doesn't love me enough to come back, then I guess it wasn't real love, right?

The thought just makes me cry harder.

"Hello! Are you in there?" The voice is familiar, and probably the last person I want to talk to right now. Daisy.

I swipe at my tears, sniffing hard. "Just working on some tea leaves," I say. "I'm almost done."

Daisy ducks inside and then glances around. "Oh, my, I always forget how positively tiny this room is. Back with my old master, I had rooms bigger than this just for my earrings."

I bite back frustration. It's not Daisy's fault I just want to be left alone. I manage to keep my voice even, as I spread more leaves out on the blankets. "Did you need something?"

"Actually I was looking for you." She creeps inside and then sits down next to me on the fur, her hands in her lap. When I glance over, she gives me a knowing look. "Friend to friend, what are you doing, Steph?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" I gesture at the leaves. "I thought it was obvious."

Daisy shakes her head. "I mean with Juth. Why are you letting him leave you behind?"

"Letting him?" I choke, fighting back a fresh round of tears. Is she serious? "I'm not letting him do anything. He just left without me being able to talk to him. And I'm afraid he's gone for good."

Just saying it aloud makes me burst into tears. I should have tried harder to keep him. I should have made him realize that I love him. I should have clung to his fucking leg so he couldn't walk away from me. Now it's too late and I don't know what to do.

"Oh, honey," Daisy says, and puts her arms around me.

"I didn't want him to go," I weep. I'm tired of trying to look at things from all angles and understand things logically when my heart hurts. When I feel abandoned. "He didn't let me explain. I mean, yes, we started out with him thinking I was his mate but…I like him. I wanted to be with him. I didn't think it would hurt anything."

"Did you tell him this?"

"He didn't want to talk to me at all. He just kept walking away." I cry a little harder at that, because it's hard to apply therapy rules when the other person isn't around. "I know I'm supposed to wait until he's ready to listen—"

"Who says that?" Daisy interrupts. "That's stupid."

I sniff. "It's better to take a time-out to defuse an argument, so you can come back and discuss it logically."

"So, what, you just let him time-out forever?" She pats my shoulder. "I know you consider yourself the relationship expert, Steph, but that's just dumb. You do realize he's an alien and he doesn't think like us?"

"He's a person," I retort, pulling out of her grasp. "Of course he thinks like us." I'm insulted that she would insinuate otherwise. "Juth is just as smart as anyone else."

The look Daisy gives me is sheer exasperation. "I'm not saying he's not smart." She shakes her head. "I'm saying that he's not going to think the same as you or I. He didn't really have people around him, right? So how's he going to know how to properly argue? How's he going to feel when anyone contradicts him? He's not going to know how to handle that. And he's sure not going to know how to handle being embarrassed."

I blink. How am I so blinded by my own emotions that I didn't realize that? Of course Juth won't know how to handle things. "You think he was embarrassed?"

"Oh god, yeah." Daisy gives a wry laugh, tossing her lovely, reddish-gold hair. "He's been trying so hard to fit in that I imagine he was terribly ashamed to hear that you never chose him."

"That's not what happened," I protest. "He thought we were mates at first, and I didn't correct him. That was wrong of me. But I liked him, too. That's why I never said anything. And I'm happy with him. I love him. I never brought it up again because to me it doesn't matter. We got together, and that's all that matters."

"And yet you let him walk away," Daisy says gently. She studies me, then picks up one of the leaves I'm drying out and twirls it. "Here's the thing. When you feel…unwanted…it's hard to stay around." There's a husky note in her voice that tells me she's speaking from experience. "Sometimes it's easier to flee where no one can look at you hurting. But let me tell you." She shakes her head, her expression sad as she studies the leaf she holds out in front of her. "If I was feeling abandoned? I'd give anything to have someone come after me. To show me that I'm so important to them. To show me that I matter. Because when no one comes after you? It just reinforces the feeling that you're nothing to them."

My throat feels like one big knot.

Oh god, she's right. Juth has been abandoned all his life. Of course he's going to expect that no one wants him. I fight back fresh tears as I remember how excited he was just a few days ago when I'd “defended” him in front of the others. He'd been so awed, so pleased.

And I embarrassed him and let him walk out. He probably thinks I don't care at all.

I bury my head in my hands. "Fuck. How is it I messed this up so badly?"

"Because your heart is involved," Daisy says. "It's hard to think straight when you're in love. Logic goes right out the window." She turns her head, glancing behind her. "Or I should say, right out the entrance to the cave."

She's right. If I want Juth back—and I do, badly—I need to go after him. Didn't I pat myself on the back thinking that I was showing him just how much I loved him and yet when it mattered most, I retreated? He's been given space all his life—he needs someone to crowd him to show that they care.

I jump to my feet, determined. I've only been in the mountains once or twice, because I figured out early on that I'm not much of a huntress. I prefer to stay near camp and help out, so I don't know my way around in the snowy cliffs. It doesn't matter, though. If I have to trudge through them for months on end, looking for him, I absolutely will. I won't give up until I find him again.

"Where are you going?" Daisy asks.

"I've got to go after him," I tell her, pushing my way out of the cave. I step into the pale sunlight on the beach, blinking, and glance around. The sands are still quiet, with no sign of hatching creatures, so I head for the distant campfire. Someone's probably making lunch, and if any of the guys are around, I can grab a couple of spears and maybe some supplies—

—and let out a scream of surprise when O'jek materializes out of nowhere.

I clutch my chest, gasping as he moves forward, and Daisy rushes out of the cave. "What the fuck?" I wheeze as his color settles back down to its normal pale blue. He was camouflaged and standing against the rocks, which is how I didn't notice him there. "Are you spying on me?"

He frowns, turning to Daisy. When she crosses her arms over her chest, he grows flustered, looking uncomfortable. "I was watching over D'see," he says. "She is not careful when she wanders on the beach. I stay close so she does not get hurt."

"Aw, you big sweetie." Daisy beams and moves to O'jek's side, tugging on his arm so he can bend down a bit. He does, and she kisses his cheek. "Such a protector. You're going to make someone a lovely mate someday."

"Someday," he echoes, gazing down at her with pure longing as she beams at me.

Awkward.

O'jek tears his gaze away from Daisy and looks over at me. "You are going after Juth?" When I nod, he straightens. "Good. I will join you."

"You weren't invited." I'm pretty sure they don't like each other, too. O'jek's probably one of the reasons that Juth left, and it makes me a short with him.

"You wish to find him, do you not?" O'jek remains calm, his expression careful. "He will be many days gone from camp at this point, and you are not familiar with the mountains or the trails there. I know both." He taps his nose. "And no one can hunt a trail better than Shadow Cat clan."

He's right that I probably shouldn't go alone, but I'm not sure I want to go with O'jek. What if we're out there for days on end? I look at Daisy, who's beaming up at O'jek, but I don't feel the same warmth for him that she does. "You don't have to. I can get someone else to come with me. I'm sure Rukh or maybe Raahosh will help me if I ask."

O'jek shakes his head. "It should be me."

"Why?" I have to ask.

His expression remains tight. "Because I am the one responsible for him leaving. And because he is my brother."

My jaw drops. “What?”

He nods, clearly uncomfortable. “My mother had another son. He was born…and it was clear he was not Shadow Cat. They outcast him. I have hated him always but…perhaps I am wrong.” He gives me a grim look. “It does not matter. That is the past. I must speak to him and apologize.”

I’m stunned. Utterly stunned. I’ve heard stories of how the clans on the island would reject children that didn’t look how they expected, but it’s hard for me to grasp that this happened to my Juth as a baby. I ache for him, for a lifetime that he should have had with Shadow Cat at his side. They’re not my favorite people, but it’s clear they’re close-knit. A family. Juth has never had anyone except Pak.

And me. Because I’m not letting him go. This just fires me up to find him. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

27

JUTH

A  full handful of days have passed, and the ache in my chest has not eased.

I stare out at the endless snow, leaning on my spear. I am supposed to be scanning the hills for a cave that will be our home for a time, but luck has not been on my side. I am distracted. Sad, too. When I search the cliffs, I do not see anything except Steff. Steff's smile. Steff's laughter. Steff's expression when I push my cock into her welcoming body. I miss waking up next to her, with her mane splashed across my skin. I miss the brush of her skin against mine. I miss her scent in my nose the moment I awaken. I miss touching her under the blankets, trying to see if I can get her to moan aloud. I miss everything about her, and I did not realize how full she had made my heart.

But it was all a lie, and there is no point in missing someone that did not want to truly be with me.

Pak misses her, too. He cries when he goes to sleep at night, which tears my heart. Back in the camp, he was excited about everything and talked constantly. Now, he is quiet, and when he does speak, it is only to ask when we are going back.

I do not know how to tell him that we will never return. That we are not wanted there, not truly. They want another hunter, perhaps, but they do not want Juth. And Steff…I do not know what Steff wants.

"Papa?" Pak asks, moving up to my side and touching my hip.

I bite back a sigh, because I know before he even speaks what he will be asking. "Yes, my son?"

"Do you think if we go back to the beach soon, Raahosh will have my bow ready?" He looks up at me with innocent, hopeful eyes. "He said he would make one for me."

"Pak, we have talked about this. We are not going back." I watch a group of the big, shaggy creatures—dvisti, like Farli's pet—as they move across a distant rise, but I do not have the heart to chase after them. It does not seem worth the effort when it is only myself and Pak to feed.

Pak is not deterred by my answer. "We do not go back today, no, but…maybe tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?"

"No, Pak. We are Outcasts, remember?"

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. It is different now." I force myself to remain calm, because it is not Pak's fault that he does not understand. I should never have let Steff pull us into her camp. I should never have mated with her. I should have known it was a trick. No one ever gives to Outcast clan. They only take. With that sour thought echoing in my head, I gesture at the creatures on the horizon. "We will head in that direction. Come. Perhaps there will be a small one we can pick off."

"I do not like killing the small ones, Papa," Pak says uncertainly. "They are small like me."

They are young, yes, but it makes no sense for us to kill a full-grown adult and waste so much meat. Steff had promised to show me a way to smoke and preserve the food for later, but if we are Outcast, we are not allowed to build fires. It is against the rules. Only elders can build fires, and so we cannot smoke meat. I do not like killing the young either, but it is better than wasting things. "Perhaps we will find a lame one instead," I offer as a compromise. "Come on."

I shift my spear to my dominant hand and Pak takes my other, holding it tight as we trudge through the snows. It is much colder up here in the mountains, with the ever-present snow covering everything and frosting the air. I did not realize the difference in temperature with the beach, but it explains why everyone is covered in clothes. Both Pak and I are bundled up in everything we have, and at night it is cold enough that we huddle together despite the fur layers.

The beach is far more pleasant an environment, but this is our world now. We must go on because there is simply no other option.

As we head toward the dvisti herd, Pak tugs on my hand. "Do you smell that, Papa? On the wind?"

I lift my head, trying to pick up the scents. Yesterday, we ran into a pair of hunting snow-cats, and while I managed to chase them off, I do not like the thought of one catching my son unawares. Pak is small and could be a good meal for the creatures. I breathe deep…

…and then go still.

One scent is that of smoke and leather, and a familiar female musk that makes my heart race. Steff. For some reason, she is out here in the dangerous mountains instead of by the safety of a fire. There can only be one reason why she is here, and my heart leaps.

But the second scent? It is O'jek. And this fills me with fury. She brought the one that mocked me with her? Perhaps she is not here for me after all. Perhaps she is here to demand anything I have left. I was warned that those in the clans would seek to take anything that an Outcast had.

Maybe O'jek is here to steal my son.

The thought breaks me, because Pak is the only thing I have left. My heart aching, I snatch my son up, abandoning my spear at the base of a nearby cliff. "Shift your colors," I tell him quickly, pulling his furry white cloak over his head to hide his pale yellow mane. "Be silent. We must hide in the snow so they do not see us."

Pak just nods, watching me with wide eyes.

I race toward a snowbank by a trickling stream of heated water. The water flows from atop a cliff, and off to one side, the snow is thicker, as if it has fallen from above. I skid into it, tucking Pak against me and ducking into the thick snow. Between the shadows and our camouflage, we should be hidden, as long as the wind does not change.

We watch—and my heart pounds—as O'jek and Steff head into the canyon. O'jek looks as he always does, but Steff…Steff looks tired. Worn. Her mane is tied up in a bedraggled knot atop her head and her cheeks are chapped a bright red from the cold and the wind. She leans heavily on the spear she is using as a walking stick, and her shoulders are slumped. Even from here, I can smell the sweat on her skin.

She smells…amazing. My foolish spirit fills with yearning at the sight of her. I devour the sight of her with my eyes as they move closer to our hiding spot. There are dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks look less full. She limps, and for a moment, I am furious at O'jek. Her ankle will be weak for at least another turn of the moon. Why is she not by the campfire, resting? Why is she out here, several days from where it is safe?

Steff pauses and turns to look at O'jek, breathing heavily. "Any closer now?"

"Very close," he says, scanning the valley. "They came through here. Look at the footprints."

I inwardly curse, because I did not have time to cover our tracks. I only thought to hide our scents. I remain silent, even though Pak twitches next to me. His tail wags happily, and his small fingers clutch at my arm. He is excited to see them, because he does not understand why we are gone. He wants to go back.

Part of me wants to go back, too.

O'jek touches one of our tracks left in the churned snow. "These are recent. It has not crusted over again. As I said, they are close." He glances around. "They will be camouflaging and hard to see, if they keep the wind on their side."

Steff sags, and her bright bluish-pink lower lip quivers. "Are they avoiding me?"

"It is possible," O'jek says in a flat tone. He heads farther away, his back to me, as he looks at our tracks. "Perhaps they do not wish to be found at all."

His words sap all the strength out of Steff. She slumps to the ground and tosses her spear aside, sitting in the snow. She looks utterly defeated, staring at nothing at all. As I watch her, hungrily devouring the sight and scent of her, she sniffs loudly and swipes at her eyes.

Pak touches my arm again. "She's crying, Papa."

This feels wrong. I do not want Steff to cry over me. Steff is always kind, always thinking of others. Someone should be there to wipe her tears…and I do not want it to be O'jek. I touch my son's cheek, and then get to my feet, tossing off my cloak. I let my color ripple back to its normal shade and take a few steps out of the shadows and into the afternoon sunlight.

It still takes a moment for Steff to realize I am there. She is lost in her misery, sniffing and wiping at her chapped face. I approach her, letting my feet crunch in the snow, and when she finally looks up, her eyes go wide. Her lips part—and then she bursts into fresh tears.

I drop to my knees next to her. "This is no place for you." I touch her ankle, the one that should be resting instead of trudging through the snows. "Are you in pain?"

Her breath shuddering, she nods. Somewhere behind me, I hear Pak moving, hear O'jek walking toward us, but I cannot take my eyes off of Steff. My beautiful, soft Steff, who has tears all down her cheeks as she looks at me, her eyes full of misery. Even my pride is not worth her tears. If she asked me in this moment, I would return with her. I would dwell at the edges of the village, an Outcast alone, if she would only stop crying.

"Where do you hurt?" I ask, when she does not answer.

Her hand goes to her heart. "Right here."

Heart pain is bad. Worry surges through me, and I pull at her leathers before I realize she means her heart—her spirit—is hurting.

Oh.

Our eyes meet, and she reaches out and takes my hand. "I was wrong to you."

My heart thuds with hope. "Steff—"

"No, let me say it," she tells me, her voice soft. "You need to hear me say it."

I remain still, even when Pak puts his cold hands on my shoulder and clings to my arm. She has my hand, and I would stay here forever. Steff smiles briefly at Pak, and then looks down at my hand again. Her fingertips—ice cold because O'jek does not take proper care of her—brush over my skin. She will not look me in the eye.

"I have things I should have said to you before," Steff says. "And I should start with apologizing."

My gut clenches and my hopes sink. She came all this way—with hated O'jek—to apologize?

"When you and I first started talking, we couldn't understand each other, remember?" Her fingers dance over my skin, like caressing icicles. "I didn't realize how big of a difference it would make in our conversations, or how much I just assumed you knew. I felt like we were understanding each other just fine." Her mouth curves in a faint smile. "And then of course, the shell-beasts came, and I hurt my ankle, and everything changed between us."

She keeps her head bowed, and just traces the lines of my palm, over and over.

"I guess I was always fascinated with you. You know me. I like to try and understand people and how their minds work." A half-hearted smile curves her lips. "You were a project, and I was determined to be the one to bring you guys into our little group. But you took care of me. You looked after me. Treated me like I was special, and no one's ever really done that for me before. I didn't realize I needed someone to look after me, too, you know? I'm just so busy all the time trying to help everyone along, to make people happy, and I didn't realize that I needed something for myself, too. And I guess that's when I started to fall in love with you." Her lip quivers. "Because I felt like to you, I was a person. You saw me, and you saw what I needed, and you made me feel beautiful and desirable, when I've felt anything but."

Questions burn in my throat, but I do not want to interrupt.

"And so when you misunderstood, and you declared that I was your mate and I had chosen you and we were going to go back to the tribe together…" She hesitates. "I should have spoken up then, but I didn't want to correct you in front of the others when we were just meeting them. And you were so proud, too." Her voice grows so, so soft. "Like you'd lucked into someone special. I liked you, too. I liked kissing you, and touching you, and I thought, okay, what does it harm if I let things go on for a while? So I let it continue, because it felt good, and it felt right. Being with you just felt so easy and natural that I never stopped to think about this big misunderstanding between us. And after a while…it wasn't a misunderstanding, you know? I am your mate. I love you. I love being with you. I love that you take care of me. I love that you're a good dad and a good provider. I love that you make me smile and laugh. I love that you're strong and you persevere no matter what is thrown at you. You never think about giving up. It was just so easy to be yours. And I know I should have said something. I just didn't stop to think about how it might hurt your feelings to learn the truth." Her smile grows bitter. "It was selfish of me."

She wishes to be my mate? Happiness blooms in my chest, chasing away all the misery of the last handful of days. "Steff—"

"I should have come after you," Steff says quickly, her tone urgent, as if she must spill all her words before I stop her. "It's just, I knew I was wrong, so I retreated a little. I told myself you needed time to cool off, and then you'd come back and we'd talk it out. I never realized that you just might…keep going." She chokes a little, and more tears slip down her reddened cheeks. "I was thinking like I was back on Earth, trying to do conflict resolution instead of realizing that you're here, and you're different, and what works on Earth doesn't always work here. I should have gone after you."

She gazes up at me, her eyes full of emotion, and then quietly lets go of my hand. I am moved by her words—and still as besotted with her as ever—but I do not know why she is here. What is she asking? "You…came all this way to apologize?" I glance over at the hunter hovering a short distance away. "With O'jek?"

"Oh." Steff flushes, and then shakes her head. "No, actually. I came here to tell you that I didn't choose at first, but I'm choosing now. I should have told you when you confronted me that I choose to be yours, that I always choose to be yours. That being with you brings me joy. That I want to be your mate and Pak's mother." She bites her lip, clasping her hands in front of her as if she is worried she will reach for me again. "I love you, and I want to be with you. And if you don't want to go back to the others, then…I'll be Outcast with you."

"What?" O'jek interrupts, startled.

My son flings himself at Steff, and she lets out a startled squeak before wrapping her arms around him. She smiles, hugging him tight, but her gaze is on me. Her eyes are full of questions and hopes.

"You…would be Outcast with me?" I ask, incredulous.

Steff holds Pak against her, settling him against her body as if he has always belonged there, and for a moment, I am jealous of my small son. She nods, giving me a tentative smile. "I love you. I feel things for you that I've never felt for anyone else, not even Flor."

"Flor?" O'jek sputters, utterly confused.

Steff ignores him. "I love you," she tells me softly. "I'm sorry I hurt you. But I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

My heart is full. I want to crush her to my chest, but Pak is in the way. I reach out and touch her cheek, stroking my fingers over her face. She turns and presses her mouth to my palm, and I am hit by a bolt of intense need. My mate. My female. She has come for me. "You have my heart, my Steff. I will go back with you."

"Oh…are you sure? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable—"

I shake my head. "You need people. Pak does, too. I will learn to get used to it." I brush my thumb against her mouth, and when she nips at it, my cock stiffens. "I just want to be with you."

Her eyes shine with happiness, and Steff presses a kiss to Pak's forehead even as she gazes at me. "Pak, baby, I'm going to press faces with your daddy now," she tells my son. "Go see O'jek."

That breaks me from my trance. I pull back, frowning as I look up at the Shadow Cat hunter. "Not O'jek, no. I do not want him near my son."

I expect O'jek to scowl in our direction, to say something cutting and unpleasant. Instead, he shifts on his feet, a strange look on his face. "Steff is not the only one that needs to apologize," he grits out, as if the words are painful for him. "I was wrong."

"Wrong?" I echo, confused.

"I said things to hurt you." O'jek scratches at the back of his head as if uncomfortable. "I wanted to make you angry, because I was jealous. You have a mate, and a kit, and I have nothing." His jaw clenches and he glances away. "But I did not want to drive you away. You belong as much as anyone else does. And…you are my brother."

He is acknowledging that we share the same parents? I look over at Steff, wondering if she has put him up to this, but she only shrugs. I get to my feet, shaking off snow, and approach O'jek. "You say you are my brother…but I am Outcast. Shadow Cat does not like outsiders, especially Outcasts. What will I'rec think?"

O'jek's expression hardens. "I do not care what I'rec thinks. You are my blood, and I would like to get to know you." He puts a hand on my shoulder, clasping it. "The old ways were wrong."

I do not know if I trust him fully, but it is a start. I nod, and touch his shoulder briefly.

"Will you return with us?" O'jek asks.

I turn and look over at my mate. She stands up, setting my son on his feet, and Pak rushes over to cling to my leg, all smiles. Steff moves toward me, too, her expression a bit more hesitant. When I smile down at her, all her hesitation disappears. She flings herself at me, her arms going around me, and I hold her tight.

28

JUTH

T  ime alone with my mate is near-impossible on the journey back. I want desperately to kiss her—to press faces, as Pak says—but she is exhausted and it is cold, and Pak is all excitement, bouncing from her lap to mine when we sit by the fire. O'jek is thawing as well. We talk some, but he is far more interested in my son. He creates a little spear for Pak and spends much of our traveling time teaching him how to hunt, pointing out tracks and signs that game has come through. Pak is initially wary, but by the end of the first day, he is following behind O'jek like a tiny shadow.

It gives me a chance to touch Steff. We do little more than hold hands, or steal a quick kiss or two, but it is enough to stoke the flames that burn just under my skin.

That night, we sleep in a hunter cave, and O'jek takes a watch at the front. Pak curls up against Steff's back, and the moment he falls asleep, I take the furs he dozes on and drag them to the far side of the fire so I can have a few moments alone with Steff. When I return, my mate presses up against me, her hands on my cock. Her eyes shine as she works my shaft, and she whispers filthy things to me that make me spend faster than I thought possible. She cleans my chest with a scrap of fur and then guides my hand between her thighs, and I kiss back her cries so we do not wake my son. Perhaps it is wrong to touch with him so close by, but Pak sleeps so heavily he is not disturbed, and I have missed my mate too much.

The next day passes much like the first, with O'jek watching over my son so I can spend time with Steff. We walk a few paces behind them, and if Pak notices, he does not seem to care. He is far too excited to “hunt” with O'jek, and when they veer off the trail to check a nearby trap, I tug my mate into my arms and mate tongues with her until we are both breathless.

"How is it that I want you more with every moment that passes?" I murmur between kisses. My hands brush over her teats, teasing the stiff tips because she makes the most delicious gasps when I do. "If I could, I would drop you into this snowbank and lick your cunt until you screamed, and then I would fill you so full." Just thinking about it makes my cock uncomfortably hard. I toy with her nipples, scraping at the points through her clothing. "And you would cry out so loudly even the distant camp would hear us."

Steff moans, leaning heavily into me. "I feel the same. Can we…hide for like five minutes? I promise to be quiet."

I chuckle. "My pretty mate…you are never quiet."

She whimpers a protest, clinging to me. "I'd try real, real hard though."

I bite back a groan at her words, but we must continue on to the beach. We are close now, and Pak will be tired. Steff is tired, too, though she does not complain. It is evident in her slower steps, and the cold weather has chapped her soft face. She needs to be brought to the nearest fire and pampered.

It is my duty to take care of her, and the thought fills me with such joy.

Reluctantly, we pull apart and continue on the trail through the cliffs. For some reason, though, my need for her does not ebb. I try to think of other things—my son, my brother, the tribe that is waiting back at the beach. My thoughts circle back to my mate over and over again, and I cannot focus on anything but her, on the sweet scent of her cunt that lingers in the air, reminding me that she wants me as much as I want her. It is maddeningly distracting, and even when O'jek and Pak return with a catch from the trap, I feel as if I am in a haze.

It is a haze that only Steff's nearness penetrates. Her scent. Her touch.

I am relieved when the cliffs give way to very familiar territory, and the distant green of the great salt water appears on the horizon. The path we take dips through one final snowy canyon, and then up the cliffs that protect the beach like a shield. We move toward the path, but O'jek bounds past and moves to the edge of the cliff, gazing down below. He glances back at my son, then at me. "The shell-beasts are hatching. Come and see. The beach looks alive."

Pak races forward, and the protector in me immediately surges after him. "Pak!" I grab his hand. "Be cautious. We are up high." I nod at O'jek, who puts his hand out. "Hold on to him."

It bothers me less to see Pak quickly put his hand into O'jek's as they peer over the edge. For all that O'jek is gruff and proud and can be very unlikeable, he is good with my son. He holds the boy tightly, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arm around my son's waist so they can both watch below. Pak squeals with delight, his eyes wide. "There are tentacles everywhere!"

Steff wrinkles her nose. "I'm glad we're up here, then."

She leans closer to me, and my cock is achingly hard. What is wrong with me? It feels obvious under my fur kilt as I move to the edge with Steff at my side. I catch a glimpse of the beach below, and for once, the sand is not greenish, nor does it have the red cast it normally does. It is alive with the pinkish-purple creatures, so many of them that it looks as thick as a blanket of snow. A writhing, squirming mass of snow. In the distance, I can make out the campfire, and a series of additional fires in a line to create a barrier that the creatures will not cross. Everyone stands behind them, watching and pointing as the hatchlings flood their way toward the water's edge.

It is like nothing I have seen before.

"Papa, can we catch one?" Pak asks me. "It could be my pet, like Farli and Chahm-pee!"

"I do not think…" I am momentarily distracted as Steff moves in front of me, leaning over to peer down. I put a hand on her hip to anchor her, and then I cannot look away from the sight of her full, rounded bottom, so close to my cock. I could tug her hips backward, just a little, and then my cock would be nestled between her buttocks and—

"Juth."

I run a hand over Steff's hips, entranced at the sight of them. Her skirt is not short but goes to mid-calf. Still, I wonder if I could push it up without anyone noticing, and just feel the wetness between her thighs—

"Juth. Brother."

I blink, trying to clear my head from the fog that has taken over my senses. Steff straightens, but she leans back against me, her eyes closed, and it is another distraction. My pulse thunders in my ears. When O'jek says my name a third time, it takes everything I have to turn and look at him.

He lifts one hand and taps his chest.

Confused, I touch my own chest, over my heart, and then I realize what has happened. Resonance. I am singing to my mate, my khui recognizing Steff as my own. No wonder I am so distracted. No wonder my cock has been rock-hard all day long, making travel an agonizing, over-sensitized experience.

Steff turns to look at me, her eyes wide, and a moment later, I hear her khui begin to sing. "Oh. Oh wow. I wasn't…I didn't expect…"

"It seems I am wrong again," O'jek says. There is no smile on his mouth, but I sense his amusement all the same. "Outcasts do resonate."

I bark out a surprised laugh, but it turns into a hiss the moment Steff moves forward and rubs against me again. Distracted, I cup my mate's face and look over at my son. I need to get him safely home. He will be tired and need something to eat, and a comfortable bed to sleep on. But my need to grab Steff and drag her into the shadows—so I can pound her cunt—is overwhelming. I hesitate, torn. I cannot abandon Pak when the beach is a mess like it is.

"Would you like to ride on my shoulders, Pak?" O'jek asks. "The beach might be slippery from the hatchlings and you can get a better view up high." He glances over at me, understanding in his eyes. "Once we get to the group, I bet Shail has something delicious for you to eat."

His words ease some of the pressure. He is telling me that he will look out for my son. That he will take care of him while Steff and I fulfill resonance…as long as I trust him.

"Can I, Papa?" Pak's tone is full of excitement. If he has noticed me resonating to Steff, he has not indicated it. He is merely excited to return “home” and to see the creatures…and for a shoulder-ride.

I turn to O'jek again. We gaze at each other for a long moment, and then I nod. If he is to be my brother, then I will trust him.

O'jek nods and leans down to the snow, patting his shoulders so Pak can get on. "There is a storage cave on the far end of this valley," the Shadow Cat hunter casually mentions. "I believe there are extra furs there."

"Oh," Steff says, and she sounds breathless and distracted. Her khui hums wildly, the song so loud it threatens to overpower my thoughts. "You know, we do need some furs…for camp…"

Settling Pak on his shoulders, O'jek gets to his feet. He nods at us. "We will be with the group if you need us."

"We'll catch up," Steff says, her hands going to my belt as if she will strip me down right here and now. "You two have fun."

Pak gives us an excited wave, then turns his attention back to the beach. "There's so many of them! Look, O'jek!"

I watch my son and my brother for a moment longer, fighting the urges in my body. My gaze is locked on Pak, but my mind is on Steff. Her scent is maddening, so thick in the air I can think of nothing but her. My khui thrums in my chest, drowning out Pak's excited cries at the sights of the creatures on the beach, and I am in a daze when I glance down at my mate.

Her eyes are soft, heavy-lidded, and she presses her body against me. "Juth…I need you…"

"I am here." I cup her face with one hand, running my thumb over her soft mouth. It is a little chapped, just like the rest of her face, but she has never been more beautiful to me.

"No. I really, really need you." Her breath comes quickly, and her hand slips under my kilt, grasping my cock. "Right now. Please—"

I groan as she strokes me, and my hips jerk, pumping my cock into her greedy grasp.

"Right here," she demands. "Lie down, Juth. We can fuck right here—"

In the snow? With her face already reddened? That will not do. It is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do, but I pry her hand off my aching, leaking cock. "Come," I tell her.

"That's the plan," she purrs, her voice humming with the force of her resonance.

I bite back a laugh and scan the valley. A cave at the far end? I glance at Steff, who looks tired—and also looks as if she wants to rip my kilt off. She needs a cave. A shelter. Warmth and a blanket.

So I haul her onto my shoulder and start marching toward the far end of the valley.

She protests, squirming on my shoulder. "Please, Juth," she moans, wriggling. "I need you. Don't make me wait."

I lightly tap her backside with my hand as a reprimand, but it only makes her whimper with a sound that is not outrage. It feeds the hunger racing through me, and I push at her skirt even as I march forward. When it is hitched up enough that her arousal scent floods my senses, I make sure my arm is locked securely around her thighs before I push my other hand between them.

Steff's squeal is loud enough to echo off the cliffs. Her cunt is dripping with need, though, and I pump two fingers in and out of her heat, loving the moans she makes. It is distracting, especially when my small mate is squirming and wriggling on my shoulder, but I do not care. All I care about is the hot clench of her cunt against my fingers, the juices that flow down my arm, and the noises escaping her as she rocks against my hand.

We get to the far end of the valley, and my mate is quivering with every thrust of my fingers into her warmth, her cries urgent. My cock throbs and aches with urgency, and for some reason, I cannot find this stupid cave. It is here somewhere, I know, but when I look around, all I see are a jumble of rocks…and all I hear are my mate's needy sounds.

"Juth," she begs, bucking against my hand. "Please. I'm so close. Oh god, I'm close. I want you inside me when I come."

I want that, too. I glance around the blind canyon once more, then find the nearest cliff. The rocks are smoother here, the ground a bit more sheltered from the heavy snow and the traffic of animals that move through on their endless search for food. I can toss my cloak down here, and it will do for now.

When we take the edge off, then we will find the cave.

I give Steff one last thrust with my fingers, then slide my hand from her warm cunt. She protests this with a wordless sound, smacking a hand on my back to let me know her displeasure. I lean forward and set her on her feet, and she looks up at me, dazed with lust. "Give me a moment," I promise her. "I can—"

Steff grabs my neck and pulls me down for an urgent kiss. "Here," she tells me between desperate flicks of her tongue against mine. "Let's fuck right here."

"Here?" I echo, but her hands are everywhere, trailing over my chest, heading for my kilt, and she bites on my lower lip, and I forget about the world around us. All I know is that my greedy mate wants my cock, and she wants it now.

She pulls on my belt, panting, and then growls in frustration when the knots don't give. "Fuck it," she says, turning and presenting her back to me. She hitches up her skirt, pulling it up around her waist and bracing one hand against the nearest rock. "I want you in me."

Her rounded backside, dimpled and soft and pale, is exposed to my gaze. It breaks the tenuous hold I have on my control, and I shove my kilt up, exposing my cock. I take a step forward and rub it against her soft flesh, and I can feel her entire body shudder as I rub my length between her thighs. I know from experience that the wetter I am with her slick juices, the easier it makes it for her. So I drag my cock against her folds once, twice, and then put a hand on the base of her spine, holding her steady.

"Oh fuck," she whimpers. "Please, yes. Juth, need you—"

I thrust into her with a single jolt, and our cries echo through the canyon together. She is so wet and ready that I sink in without resistance, and when I am deep inside her, my spur brushes against the pucker of her backside, which makes her quiver. I grip her hips and take her, thrusting hard enough that it jolts both of our bodies. Steff's cunt is wet and welcoming, and she pushes back against me with each movement, increasing the friction between us. I cannot seem to stop, even if I wanted to. I pound into my mate, claiming her hard, my sac slapping against her skin with each thrust, and all the while, she makes keening noises of encouragement. We have never mated so hard or so fast, but it feels as if I am not in control of myself any longer—there is resonance, and it demands fulfillment.

Steff clenches hard, her cunt tightening around me as she comes, her cries drowned out by the roar of my khui singing in my ears. I am lost in the spell of our mating. Nothing exists outside the slap of our bodies, the thrust of my cock into her incredible warmth, and the tightness of her cunt as I stroke into her over and over again.

When I come, it feels like…perfection. Completion. I spill inside her with a hard thrust and then hold her onto my cock as my seed pulses forth, over and over again. I cannot seem to stop coming, and I drag my cock inside her as the pleasure waves crash through me. They last for so long that I feel wrung out and utterly spent by the time I pull out of her, and then I collapse on the snow at her feet.

Steff lets out a breathy giggle and then drops onto the snow next to me, tugging my kilt down over my wet cock. "Can't have that freezing off."

I manage an exhausted chuckle, pulling her against me. My khui is singing just as loud as it was a moment ago, and my climax has not silenced it in the slightest. I touch her chest, nuzzling at her throat. "Are you still…"

"Yeah." She snuggles my chest against her teats. "We're probably going to be here all night. Hope you're all right with that."

"I could not be more all right," I admit, the wonder of the situation blooming through me.

My mate. My resonance.

And in a few turns of the season, my kit. A sibling for Pak.

Truly, I have everything a male could want.

EPILOGUE

Months Later — End of Bitter Season

STEPH

I  put a hand to my brow, shielding it from the tepid sunlight, and watch as Bek helps N'dek erect the teepee-top of N'dek and Devi's new hut. "It's looking really nice, don't you think?"

At my side, Sam makes a sound of agreement. "I think we're getting better with the 2.0 huts. It's like we've got practice in now. Though I'm going to be honest, I'm really hoping there isn't a 3.0. I'm tired of sand in everything."

God, I hear that. Not that the huts will be better at getting the sand out of the blankets, but it'll feel like home instead of just piling into a cave at night with everyone else. When your home is temporary, even the smallest of irritations—like sand in the furs—can feel like a big deal. It's more than just the sand, though I know what Sam is saying. It's that we've set down roots just to have them pulled up again. A return to normal is exactly what we need.

"We're getting there," I tell her, watching as the poles go up. Bek is standing atop one of the walls, hoisting the contraption, while Vordis is below, handing it off. They look good—until a baby cries. Then, Bek loses his concentration and everything crashes back down to the hut floor again. A moment later, Bek jumps off the wall, then races over to the boulder-seat in the sand nearby where Elly is waiting, nursing their baby.

Sam just chuckles as Bek takes baby Emma from his wife and rocks her gently, his entire concentration now on the little one. "Boy, these guys are big and scary, but they sure do turn to mush the moment their woman has a baby."

"I think it's sweet," I offer, grinning. "Bek's always been protective of Elly. It's just now amplified a thousand times now that Emma's here."

It's no surprise to anyone that delicate Elly would have an equally delicate daughter. Elly carried for a while longer than Veronica expected, and when Emma was finally born, she was so dainty that we were all worried over her health. She's small but strong, though, and when she screams her outrage in her father's ear, Bek grins like he's been given a present. Emma's pale skinned like Elly, but she doesn't have the red hair. Everything else is Bek, right down to the attitude. I watch as the baby hammers a fist on Bek's jaw as Elly gets up and stretches, and Emma bellows her outrage at everyone.

"Poor Elly looks tired," Sam says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll take over dinner chores tonight. She looks like she could use a nap. Willa always looks tired too, you know? New babies must be hell."

I glance at Sam, but I don't pry. She's just now starting to open up to me. She's intensely private, and I don't want to scare her off again, but I've definitely noticed a few things about Sam. She watches people constantly, as if she doesn't trust them. She never goes off alone with any of the men, and if she has work that needs to be done, she always makes sure to bring another woman along. If there's no one else to go with her, she feigns a headache or cramps and sticks by the camp.

And she always, always talks about resonance negatively.

It's not that I think she hates kids—I actually think she likes them. But the moment anyone talks about mating or resonating, Sam withdraws. I've pried a few times and she's mentioned that she's happy being alone. I'm not sure if that's true. Sometimes she seems lonely and lost, but it's a mystery I'm still working on unraveling. Sam needs a delicate hand.

"Have you decided where your hut is going to go up?" I ask Sam. Once all of the couples build huts for themselves, a few more are going to be built for storage and for those that haven't resonated. I know O'jek is putting his near ours, because Juth is his frequent hunting buddy, and he likes to go on morning walks with Pak. Maybe the location of Sam's hut will give me another clue toward her general thinking.

She just shrugs. "Wherever it's not too crowded. I don't mind sleeping in the storage cave until Flor and the others get back."

I make an unhappy noise at that. She was just complaining about sand in everything, and the cave definitely has a sand problem. "You heard what Ashtar said, though. No one's coming back until the brutal season is over. That's a long time to sleep huddled up against a bunch of baskets and furs."

"I dunno," she says, watching Bek pace, rocking his squalling daughter. "I don't mind the cave. It feels safe, being close to the main fire and all."

Safe. Hmm. "Would you feel unsafe in a hut by yourself?" I can't help but pry a little. Call me nosy, but it's worth a shot to ask.

But Sam only shrugs.

"Bunk with Daisy?"

"Daisy insists on her own hut," Sam says wryly. "And really, I don't think I'd want to wake up before dawn to watch the beauty regimen."

Okay, yeah. Daisy's definitely a work in progress. At least she's taken up herbalism…even if only so she can create lotions and soaps to “preserve her looks.” It's something, though. She still spends far too long on her appearance and laments about how “dry and awful” her beautiful red-gold waves are.

Then again, who isn't a work in progress? We all have our hang-ups. I think about my own mate and how he steadfastly refuses to even consider going to visit Croatoan and the other tribe. I bounced around the idea for a while—Ashtar's made the offer to fly us there if we didn't want to make the trip overland—but Juth isn't interested. The beach is his home, and the beach is where he wants to stay. I think some of it is still uncertainty with his position in the tribe. Even though he's accepted, whenever there's a conflict, I can tell he struggles with it. The Outcast clan's way of handling conflict? Head to opposite ends of whatever island-slash-atoll they were on and avoid each other. He can't do that here, and I think it's harder for him. He loves me, and he knows that Pak loves being here on Icehome beach, but some days it's hard for Juth.

It's getting easier, but it's not perfect.

Adding a whole other tribe in, however? Isn't going to happen anytime soon. Ashtar and Veronica (and baby Katamneas) visited Croatoan recently now that both Elly and Willa have had their babies and are fine. Veronica had another visit with Maylak to go over healing herbs and practice her powers, and of course they brought back news. Taushen and Brooke had a baby girl that they'd named Hazel and she was fat and healthy. Sessah had returned to Croatoan, too, claiming he wanted to visit his parents. I think it's because he wants to see Tia. Ashtar and Veronica also brought back supplies…and the news that everyone was going to stay through the brutal season.

It means a long, quiet stretch for those of us left on the beach, but I don't mind it. I have Pak and Juth, and I don't need more.

It does mean that with Sessah's departure we're down another hunter, though. O'jek and Juth have been heading out nearly every day to hunt, and they're working hard to ensure that the tribe has plenty of food come brutal season. I'm working on fishing, myself. I can't really throw a net far, but I can work a decent fishing pole, and I've learned how to put fish traps in the shallows.

Of course, I do that on the days that I'm not eaten up with morning sickness.

Today is not one of those days. I rub my stomach, trying not to think about being sick. I've thrown up twice already, and lunch isn't sitting so well. I glance around the beach as Sam talks about nothing in particular, but I don't see Juth. He must still be out hunting with O'jek, though it's about time for them both to return. The twin suns are starting to fade into the horizon, and that means dinner soon.

Oh god, dinner. My stomach roils at the thought. Last night's was a thick, viscous shellfish stew that probably tasted delicious. Everyone exclaimed over it. Me, I took one whiff of it and puked, and spent the rest of the night nibbling on raw roots that Juth brought me.

"Steph?" Sam asks, touching my hand. "You just turned really pale. Are you going to be sick again?"

"I'm good," I assure her. "I'm good." A cold sweat breaks out over my body, and my stomach heaves again. "Actually…not good."

"Oh boy. Come sit over here next to Elly." She grabs my arm and pulls me along so I can sit down next to the other woman.

No sooner do I sit on the stone “seat” next to Elly than everything comes up, and I puke into the sand for several wretched minutes. Sweat cascades down my face and my stomach lurches, and I know I just have to get through this and I'll go back to feeling all right again soon enough.

Once the worst of it is done, Elly rubs my shoulder. "It gets better, I promise."

I give her a wan smile. "Thanks."

She pushes my sweaty hair off my brow, which feels nice, and I close my eyes. "Just sit still for a moment," she advises quietly. "Sam went to get some water and some dried not-potato slices. I learned that when my stomach was feeling yucky, tepid water and chewing on one of those dried slices helped settle things."

I continue to sit by Elly while Bek settles the fussy baby, pacing circles around us. His tail twitches as he croons to little Emma, rocking her to sleep in his arms and giving his mate a break. Elly watches him and me both, and when Sam returns, I sip water and eat the slices. It definitely helps a little, and I stay where I am as Elly takes the sleeping baby again, and Bek gets back to work with Vordis.

By the time the suns hit the horizon and the sky turns a brilliantly streaky pinkish-purple, the new hut's roof is on and Sam cooks dinner over by the main fire. I remain where I am, just in case dinner is unpleasant looking, and chat with Elly about nothing in particular, mostly about those that are staying in Croatoan through the brutal season.

"I like it here better," she offers. "It's really cold in Croatoan, and here, the stars are so bright." Her slender face broadens into a smile. "And I like the thought of raising Emma alongside Gail's Zhren."

I nod understanding. Elly and Gail are very close, just like Juth is becoming with O'jek.

"Mama!"

I turn the moment I hear Pak call my name. He approaches with little Rukhar and Daisy, who has her herb basket on her hip, a smile on her face. Daisy's reached a quasi-compromise with camp chores, I think. She rarely leaves camp and she isn't much for cooking or sewing, but she always makes sure to watch at least one of the kids. It gives everyone a bit of a break. Pak loves Daisy, and I appreciate when she takes him on “adventure walks” up and down the beach, because it allows me alone-time with my mate.

Pak races toward me, his face alight with pleasure as he holds up something shiny. "Look what I found! It's a shell-beast in a rock!"

I take the rock from him and sure enough, a twirled shell impression curls in a fat circle in a small chunk of rock. "It's a fossil," I tell him. "I bet Devi would love to see it. She can help you name it."

"We can name it?" His expression grows even more delighted.

"Maybe? But ask Devi first."

Pak starts to race back to camp, but then he pauses, turns around and flings himself into my arms and kisses my cheek. I hug him and kiss him back, because I love the squirt, and then send him on his way. Devi's fascination with creatures makes her one of Pak's favorite people, and he sometimes “colors” specimens for her on leather. It's usually a hideous drawing but Devi treats it all quite seriously, which is adorable.

Daisy lifts her chin at me. "We were coming over to tell you that Juth is heading in, but I guess Pak got distracted." She grins, putting a hand on Rukhar's head. "Come on, little friend. Let's go see what Pak gets to name his rock, hmm?"

And if my mate is returning, I should head back, too. I get to my feet, groaning at the uncomfortable gurgle in my stomach, and manage a weak smile for Elly, who looks concerned. It's just morning sickness. It'll ebb in the next few months, hopefully. "How long did your morning sickness last, Elly?"

She shakes her head. "You don't want to know."

Oh boy. If that's the answer, yeah, I don't. I scan the distant cliffs that cup the beach protectively, but no sign of Juth. I head for the fire, since he'll look for me there…and then immediately head in the other direction once I get a whiff of dinner. Fish stew. My stomach hates fish anything right now, and just the thought makes bile raise in the back of my throat. Pressing my fingers to my lips as if that will somehow keep everything down, I head for my hut.

Ours was one of the first huts up, because Juth wanted privacy…and I have to admit, I love it. It's cozy and cute, at the far end of the camp to give us space. Sometimes it's too many people around, which bothers Juth, so we're a little bit farther off from the main group. O'jek has set his hut up halfway between ours and the rest of the camp, with Daisy's (which O'jek built) in the midst of the camp, right next to Willa and Gren (and baby Shade). Most days I don't mind being the farthest out, but today, it's a long-ass walk, and my heaving stomach isn't a fan. I pause several times, and by the time I get to the hut, it's dark out. I step inside and the fire pit is banked to nothing but coals, so I work on them to get a bit of a fire going again. Once there's enough light to see by, I move to the furs and lie on my back, waiting for the nausea to subside.

In the darkness, it's hard to see the swirls and colorful handprints that Pak painted all over the inside of the roof, but I know they're there. It's just another way to make our little hut special, and I love the sight of our handprints just above the entrance. Juth's big one is next to my smaller one, and Pak's is next to mine. I rub my stomach—which is a little harder, but otherwise unchanged—and think about the baby, and putting another handprint on the roof.

I doze off.

When I awaken, there's a big, familiar body sliding under the furs next to mine. I breathe in deep, turning toward my mate, who smells like sweat and the outdoors and Juth—a mixture that I love. He runs a finger lightly along my forehead, and then presses a kiss to the top of my head. "I did not wish to wake you."

"Pak?" I ask, yawning.

"Eating dinner and telling everyone about his rock creature." Juth presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. "We have some time alone."

There's a suggestion in his voice that makes me clench in all the right places. Even so, I'm wary of my stomach, since it hasn't played nice all day. "Do we have time to let me rinse my mouth out and eat a few dried not-potato chips?"

That makes Juth sit up. In the darkness, I can see him frown down at me. "Sickness again?"

I pinch my fingers together. "Just a little."

"I do not like this. The healer should be helping you." He rubs his fingers up and down my arm in a caress. "What can I get you? What do you need?"

"Water. A handful of not-potato chips. Then, frisky time with my mate."

Juth immediately gets up, moving around the hut. His shortened tail swings back and forth in sharp, angry flicks. I know what that means. Possessive mode is now activated, and I'm going to have my mate hovering over me and coddling me all night long. And…I kinda love it.

Not as much as sex with Juth, but close.

"I'm sure I'll be fine after I eat," I promise him. "How was hunting?"

He grunts a response, moving back to my side, and then hands me a bone cup full of water. "Drink this. My day is not as important as making you feel better."

Oh boy. "It's perfectly normal, Juth. Everyone gets sick in the early part of their pregnancy."

"But you are not everyone. You are my mate." He hands me a dried circle of not-potato. "And I do not like it."

I gnaw on the circle. They're not exactly like the potato chips from home. They're dried out and smoked, chewy and nearly tasteless. We keep them around to add to stew when there's not a lot of fresh roots, but as food goes, they kind of suck. I keep them down okay, though, and when Juth gently pulls me against him and strokes my hair, I sigh with contentment.

"Feel better?" he asks, his fingers trailing up my arm.

"Getting there." I think about Bek and baby Emma. I can absolutely see Juth as an overbearing dad just like that when our baby is little. Pak is independent enough, but Juth has admitted to me that he worries. It makes sense that he does. He's had so little in his life that of course he's going to cling hard to what he has right now. Me personally, I don't mind the clinging. I'd spend all day and all night with him if I could, but he doesn't like me going hunting with him. He says it's too hard and I'm too “fragile.”

Which is cute. I'm the opposite of fragile as humans go, but I like that he thinks of me that way.

"How is hunting?" I ask him as I chew on another flavorless circle. "Is it too much now that Sessah is gone?"

He shakes his head, and I feel the movement with my head snuggled against his chest. I like leaning against him like this. I feel small and dainty and protected, and with my ear close to his heart, I can hear his khui gently humming to mine. It's my favorite sound in the world. "Hunting is good. The game leaps into your traps in the mountains. Some days I think it is easier than fishing." His fingers trail up my arm again, and his khui hums a smidge louder. "But I do not like that it keeps me away from you all day. I should have been here if you were feeling poor."

"But you're here now," I point out, dragging my nails lightly up his thigh. "And I'm feeling better."

Juth's chest rumbles low with pleasure. "Steff…we do not have to mate tonight. Not if your stomach—"

"My stomach is great now," I whisper, turning in his arms so I can kiss him. I wrap my arms around his neck and I'm pleased when his hands go to my skirt, hitching it up. "But an orgasm or two might make me feel better."

He groans, kissing my mouth hungrily. "Can I lick your cunt?"

As if I'd ever be foolish enough to say no. "I'd like that." I kiss him again, then press kisses along his jaw. "I'd also like your big, fat cock filling me up," I tell him, my breath in his ear. "I'd like for you to drive into me so hard that we shake the hut and everyone on the beach hears you fucking me."

Juth hitches up my skirt, his breath coming sharp and fast. He loves it when I talk dirty to him. I never thought of myself as much of a talker during sex, but I love pushing him over the edge. It adds an element of excitement to mating for both of us. "Which do you want first?" he asks, dragging my skirt up to my waist. "Do you want your wet little cunt licked clean? Or do you want me to claim you?"

"Both," I tell him, wriggling against him. "I want both."

"I want your pretty teats in my mouth first," he demands. "I want to rub them all over my face and lick your nipples until they are hard. Are they too sensitive today?"

I shake my head, my core clenching with excitement. My breasts have just gotten bigger with my pregnancy, and Juth could not be more delighted. I'm afraid they're going to be watermelons by the time I give birth, but I don't feel ungainly. If anything, I feel sexier, because Juth adores everything about me, even the changes. I told him about stretch marks and showed him a few old ones on the insides of my thighs, and he's excited for them to appear on my belly, because then our child will be closer to being born.

"Show me your lovely body, my mate," Juth demands, tearing at my clothes. "I want to kiss you all over."

Well, now I want that, too. I pull at my layers, and together, we manage to strip everything off of me with only a little effort. When I'm naked, he pushes me back onto the furs and teases my breasts until I'm panting and wild. He heads for my pussy next, and by the time he pushes into me, I'm onto orgasm number two. Our mating is quick and delicious, and I hold him close as he comes inside me, feeling warm and languid and oh-so-loved.

Afterward, Juth presses more kisses to my breasts, and I think about the other village, and Brooke and her new baby. I think about all the other people we haven't met, and running toilets. Toilets would be really, really nice. "Do you ever think about going to the other village?" I ask, playing with Juth's hair. "Just for a while?"

"Why?" He presses a kiss to my nipple, then licks the tip with his tongue, just to watch it stiffen.

"Because it's something different? Because it's a new place and new people? Because they have running toilets? And ready-made huts? Elly says that not all of them are full. Some of them are empty and all they need is a roof."

"What is wrong with the roof here?"

"Nothing." I wrap a lock of his thick hair around my finger, wondering if our baby will have the same thick texture as his hair or the finer, softer waves of mine. "I was just curious."

Juth runs his lips over the slope of my breast. "I do not like change, Steff."

I'm not surprised. "I know."

"There is nothing that the other village has that I want." He runs his face along the valley between my breasts—a valley that's wide open now that I'm on my back and the girls are wandering off to my sides—and kisses me over and over again. "You are here and you are happy here. Pak is happy here. My brother is here. We have friends and good food. We have good weather and warm homes. I have a mate that carries my kit and a full belly. My son has friends to play with, and we are part of a clan. Icehome clan."

A tribe, I want to correct, but I bite it back. There's little distinction between tribe and clan, and at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. It's just a word. Just like “love,” which means nothing without the actions to back it up.

"If every day was exactly the same as this one," Juth continues, "I would be content. No, more than content. I would be happy. This is nothing like before. Before, I felt alone, even amongst my clan. Here, it is different, but I am never alone. Here, I have a mate and another kit on the way. Here, my son is happy. So no, I do not want to change any of this."

I run my fingers through his hair, which always looks slightly messy and unkempt, despite my best efforts to tame it. He's right. Do we need more than this? Do I need a running toilet? Or do I take what I have and be happy with it every day? "You're right," I tell him. "Change sucks. I like it here."

Juth chuckles and slides a finger between my legs, teasing my still-sensitive clit. "My mate, I am always right."

The big dork. I grin, and I'm going to correct him on that…right after round number two of sex.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hello there!

Welcome back to Icehome! It feels as if it’s been forever since the last book, but maybe that’s just in my head. It’s felt really good to dig in and return to the characters, though. I love all of them! I try to give everyone a little screen time, but unfortunately not everyone shows up as often as I want them to. It’s hard when you love everyone and want to trot them all out like your favorite toys. :)

So let’s talk about this book. The plot for this one actually came around when I was joking to Kati Wilde that I needed something to shake things up. Not in a bad way, but in a way that would change the day to day for a lot of the characters. She told me to bring in another giant monster, and I said it would only work if it showed up and just sat down on the beach.

Which is why we’re here. ;) The shell-beasts didn’t actually SIT on the beach as much as I was inspired by the old nature documentaries of the turtles laying eggs on the shore and then the babies hatching and flinging themselves into the waves. Except instead of turtles, I had quasi-ammonites and instead of them being the size of a table, they’re the size of a hunting lodge. So! Kinda the same but not really.

And speaking of egg layers, I’ve had a lot of people write me about Old Grandfather/Grandmother and how when she laid her egg, it would have been frozen solid because of the cold. I know that and you know that, but Old Grandfather has a birdbrain and instinct told her to lay eggs. But considering I was writing about egg layers infesting our favorite beach, it seemed kind of cruel to have them all frozen out, right? So I created a symbiotic relationship between the quasi-ammonites and the tiny red shellfish. In my head, the red shellfish spend most of their lives cleaning and living off of the ammonite, like sharks and remoras. When the shellfish peel off to head for the beach as a welcoming crew of sorts, they die, and the chemical reaction makes a warming, oily secretion. Add enough of that, and the sands warm up enough to keep the eggs alive.

So, to recap - baby turtle migrations. Remoras. Secretions. And a lifetime misspent watching far too many nature documentaries, apparently.

(That’s how the ‘science’ works in my head, but if there’s a zoologist out there screaming about everything I got wrong, it’s all pretend anyhow! Sorry!)

Quick shout-out to Kati Wilde for again killing it with the cover game. I absolutely love my covers and I think they’re so damn fun and sexy. Thank you for taking my sketchy, sketchy notes and making this awesome.

As a quick note, let’s talk about Steph, too. She’s a slightly different heroine from those I’ve had in the past because she’s a dirty talker in bed. Why not, right? Women can be just as filthy as men, and I am here for it. I love, personally, that Steph and Juth had a relationship where one gives when the other needs it. Juth recognizes that Steph likes to be in everyone’s business and sometimes she needs someone to take care of her. Steph realizes that Juth needs verbal encouragement and so dirty talks to him in the bedroom. I love a good partnership.

She’s also bisexual because it felt very natural for her character. Steph’s a little more cerebral at times, so it makes sense for her to love the mind first and the body second. I’ve had fans asking for M/M or F/F couples in Icehome and I’ve already got everyone paired up (and have for a while now), but there will absolutely be more diverse representation in the next generation. I’m primarily a M/F writer so expect that to be the bulk of my stories, but this is an area I’m going to explore a bit more in the future.

We had a bit of a timeline jump in this one, and the next book will also have a timeline jump. We’re going to have people moving back and forth between the camps, and I’m excited to see a swath of babies in the next round. Be ready!

SPEAKING OF BABIES. I ran into an issue with naming some of the babies due to my usual naming conventions. Like, what do you call Bek and Elly’s kid? Elk? Belly? Ekk? All of those sound terrible, so I’ve named their wee baby girl after Emma over on Tiktok, who talked about how much she loved these books, and somehow made Ice Planet Barbarians go viral. Thank you, Emma! I hope you don’t mind being a small, cranky baby. I also couldn’t find a good name for Taushen and Brooke’s kid, so she is Hazel after another friend of mine. Hello, Hazel! Thank you for all that you do. :)

Next up will be WED TO THE WILD GOD which I started working on last year and is just now coming back up to the top of the queue. After that, we’ll dip back into Icehome for SAM’S SECRET. I’m excited!

As always, thank you so much for reading and being a fan. There’s been such an outpouring of love for the ice planet and my barbarians lately that I feel extremely, extremely blessed to be able to write so many books in this series. <3

— Ruby

THE PEOPLE OF ICEHOME BEACH

The ‘Castaways’

(As of the end of Steph’s Outcast)

- Angie – Adult female at the beach camp. Pregnant with mystery baby when awoken. Gives birth to Glory (a clone female). Resonates to Vordis. Recently gave birth to a second child. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Vordis (Vohr-DISS rhymes with Floor-Miss) – One of the red “twins,” ex-gladiators of a race called a’ani. Longtime friends/brothers with Thrand, another clone. The really devoted one. Hot sauce. Resonates to Angie. New father to unnamed baby. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Glory - A qura’aki clone baby, implanted in Angie. Newborn and cute as hell.

- Willa – Adult female with a southern twang. Lo’s friend. Gren’s most ardent defender. Resonates to Gren. Recently gave birth to a son. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Gren (rhymes with HEN) – Beastly, feral ex-gladiator male. Attacks on sight. Resonates to Willa. Soft and fuzzy, according to Aayla. Father to unnamed son. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Veronica – Newest healer on the planet. Resonated to Ashtar upon arrival. Bit of a klutz. Needs to work on her bedside manner. Has enlisted Hannah to be her assistant. New mom to baby Katamneas. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Ashtar (Ash-TARR) – Flirty golden ex-gladiator and former slave. Drakoni male who can shapeshift to a “battle form” as a dragon and has the ability to communicate telepathically. Resonates immediately to Veronica. Stud. New dad to Katamneas. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Katamneas (Ka-TAHM-nee-us) - half-drakoni baby son to Veronica and Ashtar.

- Thrand (rhymes with ‘Bland’ - no one tell him this) – One of the red “twins,” ex-gladiators of a race called a’ani. Longtime friends/brothers with Vordis. The hotheaded, competitive one. Ketchup. Resonates to Nadine. Goes to Croatoan.

- Nadine – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Huntress and go-getter. Resonates to Thrand. Pregnant. Visiting Croatoan.

- Tia – Teenager at the beach camp. Flirting with Sessah…and probably everyone else. Treats all the unmated men like they’re her personal harem. Transferred to Croatoan for the time being.

- Steph – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Former psychology student. Neolithic bisexual therapist. Resonates to Juth. Adopted mom of Pak.

- Flordeliza – Adult female at beach camp. Once a nurse. Kind of a clown. Oldest of the ‘new’ group at 32. Filipina. Talented with a needle. Visiting Croatoan.

- Samantha – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Quiet. Beautiful. Former barista back on Earth. Really fucking loves being on the ice planet, which no one else can figure out. Stays on Icehome beach.

- Daisy - Newcomer! Dropped on the ice planet by Mardok’s old friend Niri. Former slave for over ten years. Very beautiful. Ready to mate and have babies. Very skin-care focused. Stays on Icehome beach.

From the Old Tribe (Croatoan)

- Raahosh (Ruh-HOSH) – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe. Messed up horns. Mated to Liz and has 3 daughters, Raashel, Aayla, and now Ahsoka. Generally unpleasant to be around (except to his mate). Stays on Icehome beach.

- Liz – Snarky human mate to Raahosh. Mother to Raashel, Aayla, and newborn Ahsoka. Star Wars nerd. Salty. Stays on Icehome beach.

- Raashel (Ruh-SHELL) - Liz and Raahosh’s oldest daughter. A bit of a tattletale.

- Aayla (Ay-LAH) - Liz and Raahosh’s middle child. Fascinated by Gren.

- Ahsoka (Uh-soh-kuh) - Liz and Raahosh’s newborn daughter.

- Sessah (SESS-uh) – Unmated, lanky, teen sa-khui from Croatoan. Currently dazzled by all the single ladies in Icehome. Upset over Tia’s constant flirting with all unhitched penises. Shy. Returns to Croatoan.

- Rukh (ROOKH) – Hunter of the Croatoan tribe and ex-outcast. His mate is Harlow. Brother to Raahosh, father to Rukhar and now Daya. Stays on Icehome beach.

- Harlow – Mate to Rukh, mother to Rukhar and infant Daya. She assists Mardok with technology stolen/looted from the broken ships. Stays on Icehome beach.

- Rukhar (ROOKH-arr) – Harlow and Rukh’s young son.

- Daya (DIE—uh) Harlow and Rukh’s newborn daughter.

- Farli (FAR-lee) – One of the few sa-khui females. Mated to Mardok and has a pet dvisti named Chompy. Pregnant. Returns to Croatoan.

- Mardok (Mar-DOCK) – Ex-soldier who has chosen to remain on the ice planet. Technology guru. Mated to Farli. Returns to Croatoan.

- Taushen (Tow (rhymes with cow)-SHEN) – Hunter and mate to Brooke. Recently arrived at Icehome camp. Returns to Croatoan. Father to newborn Hazel.

- Brooke – mated to Taushen. Hairdresser back on Earth. Will braid anyone that sits still for more than five minutes. Mother to newborn Hazel. Returns to Croatoan.

- Bek (BECK) - Hunter and mate to Elly. Recently arrived at the Icehome camp with S’bren and Penny. Utterly devoted to his woman. Kind of a crank-monster otherwise. Father to newborn Emma. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Elly - Human female who was kept in alien captivity for over ten years. Very fragile and shy, and tends to regress when uneasy. Adores Gail. Worships Bek. Loves the stars. New mother to Emma. Stays at Icehome beach.

The Island Clans and their mates

Clan of the Strong Arm

- K’thar (Kuh-THARR) – Hunter, de-facto leader of Strong Arm, resonates to Lauren/Lo. Owner of Kki/Fat One. Goes to Croatoan.

- Lauren/Lo – Adult female at the beach camp. Once had glasses. Likes to be a problem solver. Resonates to K’thar, is pregnant. Friend to Marisol. Goes to Croatoan.

- Fat One/Kki (KUH-kee) – nightflyer pet of the clan

- J’shel (Juh-SHELL) – Young hunter of Strong Arm, resonates to Hannah. Very cheerful. Long braid. Dirty talker. Goes to Croatoan.

- Hannah – Resonates to J’shel when the island tribes arrive. Pregnant. Resident busybody. Now assistant to Veronica and in charge of herbal stores. Goes to Croatoan.

- N’dek (Nuh-DECK) – Hunter of Strong Arm, recently lost a leg in a kaari attack. No longer depressed and sitting around the fire a lot. Resonated to Devi and has prosthetic leg. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Devi – Chatty adult female at beach camp. Scientist nerd. Hair flipper. Loves dinosaurs. Resonates to N’dek and is pregnant. Refuses to leave Icehome beach, because it’s awesome.

- Gail – adopted parent of Z’hren, older human female, once of Croatoan. Loves to mother everyone in the tribe that will let her. Stays at Icehome beach.

- Vaza – adopted parent of Z’hren, older sa-khui male, once of Croatoan. Loves to give advice, most of it bad. Stays at Icehome beach.

- I’chai (Eye-shy) – deceased female, mother of Z’hren

- Z’hren (ZRENN) – Orphaned child of Strong Arm, now child of Gail and Vaza. Stays at Icehome beach.

Clan of the Tall Horn

- R’jaal (Arr-JAHL) – Clan leader of Tall Horn. Kinda lonely. Goes to Croatoan.

- T’chai (Tuh-SHY) – Hunter of Tall Horn, resonates to Marisol.Attacked by skyclaw on the island and nearly dies of wounds, so the healer stops his resonance. Eventually re-resonates to Mari. Goes to Croatoan.

- Marisol – Terrified adult female at beach camp who is fond of hiding. Gets stranded with Lo on the island. Resonates to T’chai. Due to his sickness, their resonance is ‘turned off’ by the healer. Re-resonated to T’chai recently. Pregnant. Goes to Croatoan.

- M’tok (Muh-TOCK) – Hunter of Tall Horn, resonates to Callie. Likes things neat and orderly. Bit of a sneak. Goes to Croatoan.

- Callie – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Harry Potter fan. Resonated to M’tok. Also hated M’tok for a long, long time. She gets over it. Pregnant. Goes to Croatoan.

- S’bren (Suh-BRENN) – Hunter, brother to M’tok. He’s the brawn (the Pinky?) to M’tok’s brains. Goober around women. Steals Penny for himself and resonates to her. Goes to Croatoan.

- Penny – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Learning to hunt. Human sunshine. Loves adventure and a good time. Stolen by S’bren. Resonates to S’bren, is now pregnant. Goes to Croatoan.

Clan of the Shadow Cat

- I’rec (I WRECK) – Clan leader. Kind of a shit-stirrer. One of Tia’s flirt targets. Goes to Croatoan.

- O’jek (Oh-JECK) – Hunter. Quiet. One of Tia’s flirt targets. Likes to cook. Rumored to be shy. Juth’s brother. Stays behind at Icehome beach.

- A’tam (Uh-TAMM) – Hunter, said to be the handsomest on the island. Not much of a fish hook. Finally resonated to Bridget. Whew. Goes to Croatoan.

- Bridget – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Friend to Veronica. Hooked up with A’tam. Broke up with A’tam. Resonated to A’tam. Pregnant. It’s no longer complicated. Goes to Croatoan.

- U’dron (Ooh-DRONN) – Hunter. Fisher. All around sporty type. Plays a mean drum. Late bloomer, proving-wise. Resonates to Raven. Goes to Croatoan.

- Raven – One of the adult females at the beach camp. Blonde, despite her name. Hippie parents. Likes to sing and dance. Turns out her real name is Louise, she’s not a hippie after all, and was a stripper. Still awesome. Finder of Juth and Pak. Resonates to U’dron and is pregnant. Goes to Croatoan.

Outcast Clan

- Juth (joooth) - Outcast male who snags Raven in exchange for goods. Adoptive father of Pak. Eventually joins the tribe at Icehome beach and resonates to Steph.

- Pak (pack) - Littlest outcast! Adoptive son of Juth, adoptive son of Steph.

WANT MORE?

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Enjoy! For reading lists, a near-daily serial and more, check out my website - www.rubydixon.com

— R

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Steph’s Outcast

A note for sensitive readers

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author’s Note

The People of Icehome Beach

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