CHAPTER FIFTY

WREN

“Dear God, make them stop praising you,” I mutter, grabbing my back. “These wooden pews are killing me.”

Sitting beside me, Delphine whispers her laugh, “I am sorry you suffer, but this is proof God is a woman, no? Only she can make us sit on hard wood and praise the Lord.”

I giggle. Grant chuckles. Then, I roll my lips, hoping we’re not busted.

The church is full. Everyone is here for Sire’s return sermon. The kings and queens hide amongst the crowd, not making it obvious they’re our family, but I can’t help it.

I steal a glance over my right shoulder and spot Ruby and Axel, sitting across the aisle and one row back.

Sweet little Lev. He’s asleep on his father’s shoulder. Proudly, Axel wears his son’s drool on his suit.

Nick and Zar sit beside them. Many eyes are on Nick, our famous NFL king, who proudly came out as one of the first top-tier gay players in the league.

But Nick’s too focused on smoothing his sleeping nephew’s dark, sweaty curls. After Ruby and I, Nick and Zar are ready. They’re trying to have a baby with a surrogate.

For now? My fellow queen feels me. Ruby winks, then rolls her eyes, suffering the hard wood pain in her pregnant ass, too.

Yep, I’m giggling again.

Vale, sitting with Nash behind me, leans forward, whispering, “What’s so funny?”

We’re supposed to be listening to the other clergy droll on about how amazing Sire is, and he is, but I don’t need a sermon to praise my husband.

I do it almost every night.

“We’re thanking God; she’s making us sit on hard wood for an hour,” I whisper back, and Vale snorts.

Another snort echoes her. I glance over my left shoulder, happily twiddling my fingers at Alena, sitting beside Vale.

Alena twiddles back, her other hand holding Loch’s. I twiddle at him too, and he blows me a cute kiss.

Silently, I pray for a glitter bomb, not a bloody one, when their story explodes.

I clock Nadine, sitting with Roman behind them. I want to be her when I grow up. Roman’s hiding his sub’s collar for Nadine under his suit.

Only a trained eye could clock it, and thanks to my husband, I’ve been lustfully trained.

Speak of the handsome devil.

Finally, it’s his turn to speak.

I turn around, politely clasping my hands, sitting tall like a proper First Lady of the church.

But my clit doesn’t understand the proper lady assignment.

She tingles like a bad girl every time Sire wears that dark grey suit. He’s been home for a few weeks. Thanks to my cookies and the gym, he’s put some meat back on his bones.

Bones he loves to give me every night; he really does have a hot breeding kink. I’ll be wearing maternity dresses for the next ten years.

I expect him to take his place behind the pulpit, but he surprises me. Approaching the choir and band, he grabs the microphone.

“Thank you for the kind words today, my fellow clergy.” He opens his palm to the parishioners. “My brothers and sisters, too.”

He clears his throat.

I swallow the lump in mine.

Sire’s looking at Axel. “Thank you for coming today to welcome me home. But this praise isn’t about me. It’s about us; what we do for one another outside of these walls. ‘Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap’…” He chokes again. “‘If we do not give up.’”

I glance back and choke up at Axel cradling his son … and fighting back tears.

“That’s from the Book of Galatians,” Sire continues. “It’s about the work we’re called to do for our brothers and sisters. But I must confess … I almost gave up on my work. And what kept me going and brought me home wasn’t you…”

He turns, gesturing to the giant crucifix. “No offense, Jesus. We’re good.”

Softly, the congregation chuckles.

“It was my wife.” He turns to me, and I gasp. “Always and forever, I come home for her.”

He takes a step my way, owning the crowd, owning my heart.

“She was shy and wanted a small wedding. And I was smitten...” He grins. “Still am, and will give her whatever she wants. But I always wanted to do this for her. Because, you see, there are some romantic love stories in the Bible.”

He takes another step my way.

What is he doing?

My heart is racing—my palms, sweating.

“And me and my angel? We were like Isaac and Rebekah. It was love at first sight. Now, in the Bible…” Sire smirks at the crowd. “Rebekah fell first. She lowkey asked Isaac’s servant about him. ‘Who is that in the field coming to meet us?’”

He pitched his voice like a woman, all sassy like it’s a “Housewives of Charleston” show, not the Book of Genesis.

The congregation laughs.

I chew my lip.

Falling deeper in love.

Feeling our baby kick.

“But in our story?” Sire stands before me. “I fell first. I fell fast and hard and found salvation in this Iron Angel. She may be small, but don’t underestimate her.” Warmly, he nods at his mom in the crowd. “Don’t underestimate any woman. Proverbs say of women, ‘Long life is in her right hand.’”

He offers his, asking for mine.

But humility hits me. Shyness, too.

Funny, I can sing karaoke standing on a bar, but be the center of love, of family, of no one laughing at me? Of all this adoration?

I don’t know how to do this.

With his inked hand, Sire gives that sexy Come to me gesture.

I could falter, but Jace, sitting on my left, stands and helps me rise, offering my hand to his brother.

God, give Jace his love, too. He’s the only king who’s alone.

I send up the prayer.

“I wrote a song for my wife while I was away.” Sire takes my hand, gently rubbing his thumb over mine. You’re okay. I got you. “It kept me going on dark and lonely nights.”

He won’t take his eyes off me while he tells the crowd, “It’s a bit unorthodox, but so am I. It’s soulful, but how I feel for her. It’s a little sexy, but we’re all adults here. Right? The kids are in Sunday school?”

He winks at the laughing congregation. He’s got them and me: hook, line, and sinker.

“Trust me,” he smirks, “you don’t want Mrs. Rutledge, our fine First Lady of this church, messing up these lyrics. Because she will.” I shake my head, smiling. “But every word is for her.”

The band kicks in.

The beat drops.

Sire sings how God went crazy, making me for him, and him for me… and I get lost in his eyes and the lyrics. I’ll never forget them.

Sure, all hell will break loose.

I’m married to a Bratva prince who’ll cut off evil heads.

But I’m in love with a hot, inked pastor, who gave me his pinky, heart, body, soul, and child.

So, there’s a lot of heaven for us, too.