Pyotra and the Wolf by Elna Holst

Author:Elna Holst [Holst, Elna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romantic, Romance, Lgbt, Lesbian
ISBN: 9781648901942
Google: IAAeEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1648901948
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2021-02-07T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“I love you.” Pyotra had not meant to say that. She hadn’t meant to say anything of the sort; it was the sight of her lover—her wolf—stretched out and panting on the fells after a hard day’s run that tore the words out of her.

She flushed.

Volk turned, studying her with Evane’s expressive, inky eyes out of her wolf face. I know you do, her gaze seemed to imply, and Pyotra huffed and plonked onto her sleeping bag.

She wasn’t used to this—whatever this was. She had never uttered those words to anyone, not even her duck. Certainly not to Tatya.

Volk placed her chin on Pyotra’s lap, rubbing it over her folded hands. They were cold as ice from having held onto the reins all day.

She hated that part—hated how demeaning it was to Volk—but they had to keep up the pretence of her being in charge. Having her old dog sled pulled by just the one wolf rather than pairs of huskies was odd enough; they didn’t need some macho hero trying to rescue her from being carried along at a breakneck pace with no apparent means of controlling where she was going.

So, she held the reins, like she had held on to that rope the first time Volk had changed before her, out on the tundra. Weeks ago. A lifetime ago.

“I miss you.” She dug her fingers into the thick fur at the scruff of Volk’s neck, drawing a small, poignant whine from her.

The wolf wasn’t subtle. Her snout was burrowing into Pyotra’s crotch.

“Hey!” Pyotra pulled at the beast’s ears. “Don’t do that; it makes me—”

The telltale heat radiating from the wolf made Pyotra recoil. Volk wasn’t supposed to shift. They had talked about this before they set out, and Volk had agreed, unwillingly, that changing forms every night would probably take too much out of her.

The oboroten’ was strong—inhumanly strong—but pulling Pyotra, the sled, and all their gear across the snowy plains to Naryan-Mar was no walk in the park. Even Volk had her limits. And something else was draining her too; Pyotra could feel it, although Volk had not spoken of it. Well, she couldn’t, in the shape she was in.

“Don’t,” Pyotra whispered, but she wasn’t very convincing. Her whole lovesick frame seemed to scream yes. She pushed at the wolf’s shoulders, but they weren’t the wolf’s; Volk’s rough yet supple skin met her palms, and Pyotra sobbed with the dizzying relief of it.

“Lyubov,” she sighed, and Volk rumbled, a low, loving sound that burred through Pyotra, lighting glowing fires where it went.

Although it was Evane’s hands reaching for her, Evane’s chest that met hers as Volk pulled her to her, Pyotra sensed that her lover was still mostly wolf. She gasped. From one moment to the next, Volk had her pinned on top of her fells, grinding into her as she continued to change.

“Oh, please,” Pyotra heard herself plead, grateful for and exasperated by her extraneous layers of apparel. She wanted Volk’s skin to hers, her

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