Page 5 of Sasquatch Love Spell

It was never real.

Now, staring at Aoife, outside his cabin and the very real threat of his horndog brothers milling around, the urge to claimher and protect her was great. He wanted this stranger, this mystery woman, and he didn’t even know if she’d stay.

She was clearly running away from something.

That was the logical, human part of his brain speaking.

The primal part was telling him to take her and show exactly why women who were taken by Sasquatches never went back home.

“You want to scent me?” Her voice hitched in her throat and he caught the sweet, honeyed scent of her arousal again. It made his cock twitch.

“If you belong to me, then they won’t bother you.” He wanted to step closer to her, hold her, touch her. He knew she could clearly see his cock straining through his tight jeans and he didn’t want to scare her away.

Sasquatches didn’t ravish females. They worshipped them.

Protected them.

Her black eyes roved over his body leisurely. She licked her red lips, just slightly, and he could see the hardened peaks of her nipples through the lace on the bodice part of her skimpy outfit.

“Well, as much as I wouldn’t mind that, I’m running away from my Order because I’m being forced against my will to marry.”

“I would never do anything you didn’t want.” He was going to have to take a cold dip in the lake to cool this lust down, but he couldn’t leave her alone at the cabin either. This unrelenting need was almost like the mating frenzy that came over his kind.

When a male Sasquatch found their perfect mate to carry off, they stopped fucking around and only stayed with that one woman until she died. When the woman died, they died.

Until they found that forever mate, they ran around like idiots, humping what they could with permission, because male Sasquatches loved and respected females.

Females were so precious to them.

Aoife cocked her head to the side. “I believe you. I could tell that you were gentle, but then I know your kind looks frightening, but you’re not a harmful species.”

“Some of us are,” he responded, darkly. Of course, they were usually the ones who were stolen as children and put into captivity to be used as soldiers. Usually by someone from the aristocracy of the Fae realm, but they were used as soldiers, all their pheromones removed, and those soldiers never harmed females. Only males.

Aoife shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“Banshees don’t get cold.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “But I’m only half, so maybe a bit chilly. And tired. I’ve been running for a couple of days.”

“Let’s get you inside.” He scooped her up and carried her up the steep hill to his cabin under the granite ledge. At least with her in his arms, it would drown out her scent for the time being. His brothers would smell Aoife a mile away and come sniffing.

Not if I claim her.

He opened the door to his cabin and set her down on his giant bed. She looked so tiny lying there amongst the furs and the boughs of pine and cedar.

“I was not expecting this at all.” She leaned back, her cloak falling open. Her leather gloved hands running over the furs.

“What did you expect? No matter what the Fae people say about us, we don’t rut around in the mud and wallow away in caves.”

His expression softened. “I never thought that.”

His heart skipped a beat. She thought so much more of his kind than most did. It warmed his heart. “What do you think?”

“This is just cozy, rustic. You turned a hollowed-out cave into something that is totally cottage core.” She leaned back against his oversized feather pillows. Aoife looked exhausted.

All he wanted to do was lie there next to her, pull her into his arms and protect her.

She’s not mine.