Page 1 of Steph's Outcast


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STEPH

Most 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…

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