While in the icy North, Professor Roth Lawrence, an expert in Viking history, is separated from his expedition and is sure he will die alone in the dangerous, frozen mountains. Injured and suffering from exposure, he comes upon a brightly lit cave and meets an enormous wolf, a magnificent creature whose kiss can save or take life.
The last of his kind, Fenris has spent centuries on the outskirts of modern society -- a werewolf alone and longing for companionship. Finding a wounded mortal in his lair is a temptation he cannot resist, but the man is near death. Saving him means they will be bound forever.
On this dark, cold Yuletide Eve, man and beast exchange blood and share love deeper than they'd ever dreamed as Fenris offers Roth the most priceless holiday gift imaginable.
Praise for Yule Wolf
"I'd like to revisit this little world... Pretty impressive for such a brief visit."
-- Xeranth, Whipped Cream
"Kate Hill does a great job weaving this tale into an excellent romance. This is a well crafted Christmassy read."
--Dee Dailey, The Romance Studio
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Christmas Cookies: Yule Wolf
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Kate Hill
Roth Lawrence drew a ragged breath. His lungs burned from the frigid air. Bitter cold wind sliced across his face as he crawled over ice and snow. Even the blood that, just a short time ago, had flowed from his injured side froze in the ferocious weather.
Weak from exhaustion and the fall he'd taken when he'd slipped down the mountainside, he could scarcely move. Yet he knew if he stopped he'd die. Of course his chances of survival were practically zero either way.
Several weeks ago he and a select group of students from his university had begun a winter expedition, wanting to understand for themselves the living conditions of a world they had only read about or knew through artifacts.
Earlier, when the group had retired for some much needed sleep, Roth had been unable to rest. The urge to leave the cold tent for the even colder outdoors overcame him. Bundled in his protective gear, he walked only a short distance away from the tent. Then sudden squalls blinded and confused him. He thought he was traveling in the direction of his tent, but instead wandered away from the camp. When the weather cleared enough for him to see, his campsite was nowhere in sight. Knowing he couldn't survive long under such conditions, he shouted for his companions, but they must not have heard.
That seemed like hours ago.
Roth wasn't sure why he continued on in the vain hope of finding the others. This frozen land which he had so loved to study would soon become his icy grave.
He slipped and fell flat on his face. Snow bit into his flesh, but he could scarcely muster the strength to lift his head. When he did, he knew for certain his time had come, for he was undoubtedly hallucinating.
In the distance he saw a warm glow in the mountainside, like firelight dancing in a cave.
He managed a weak, humorless laugh. The motion sent blood trickling from his chapped lips and while the salty taste made him slightly sick, the warmth was almost welcome.
With agonizing slowness, he dragged himself toward the glow. Halfway there he noticed a large, pale figure emerge from the cave. Too small for a bear yet too large for a wolf, it trotted toward him on all fours. Soon it came near enough for him to see that it was indeed a wolf. Enormous, with a shaggy grayish-white pelt and slanted blue eyes, it paused, lowering its head to sniff Roth's face.
"I must be dead," he murmured. His strength finally gave out and he collapsed at the magnificent beast's feet.