Steph's Outcast

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.