Page 154 of Sire

The spirit moves through me.

It speaks and I listen.

This time, it’s Godandthe Devil.

No matter what happens to me, they need to believe this. They need to do it; it’s their only way out.

“Exactly. He wants to destroy us, so catch his enemy and destroy him first.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

WREN

Three monthslater

Loudly hummingthe song from my winning karaoke performance, I’m trying to be like Dolly—happy and counting my blessings, not my fears.

Sire grins, his inked hand warmly holding my waist, his other swiping the keycard to our hotel suite. Steaming over my ear, he gives me goosebumps, “My beautiful angel is drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You stood on a hotel bar, singing about bean enchiladas into an empty tequila bottle like you were on the bow of the Titanic.” He holds the door open for me. “You’redrunk.”

“Since when do I need tequila to sing? Delphine and Vale emptied the bottle. I didn’t touch a drop.”

I flop onto our sumptuous bed while he strips down to his black boxer briefs.

This five-star Mercier Hotel in Mykonos, Greece, is paradise. Axel and Ruby’s wedding tomorrow will beperfect. The whole family is here for their joyous celebration.

While I’m hiding my pain.

I’ve had months to fear this day. Months of watching Sire go through tests and preparations. He’s in top shape for the surgery but insisted on waiting until after Axel’s wedding. He wouldn’t miss it.

And I don’t want to miss my last hours with him. I won’t sleep. I won’t cry, either. But he’s too beautiful, half-nude and crawling over me. God, he takes my breath away, searching my eyes like that. His are so blue and full of love. “So, you’re sober?”

I nod, not sure if I should tell him. Will it make this better or hurt even more?

“But you threw up tonight.”

I nod again. Is it normal to be this afraid of losing someone?

“And you didn’t drink any alcohol?” He reasons, “I mean, you haven’t for months.”

He’s fighting the truth, too. Sometimes, it’s too precious to dare speak it aloud.

“Wren?” He blinks. “My sweet angel?” His eyes swell. “Are you?—”

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, choking on a sob. Thankful. Scared. Happy. Terrified.

He nuzzles his nose to mine, his breath in awe. “My angel, you’ve answered my only prayer. You’re having my baby.”

“Weare having a babytogetherbecause you’re coming home to us,” I demand through tears. “You made a deal with me. Remember?”

He groans, capturing me in a desperate kiss; that’s his answer. He makes love to me; that’s his wish. He kisses my belly, his tears spilling over my flesh; that’s his hope. He holds me all night; that’s his promise.

I’m only six or so weeks along, and I know I will have Sire’s child.

But someone … please tell my heart … I’ll have my husband, too.