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“Sorry, dear sister,” Ambrose says as he dances closer to Alena. Too close for my taste. “These cretins do not listen to me. I would have had you clothed and shoed as a princess should be.”

“Ambrose,” I growl at the annoying little shit.

“Hush, Raphael.” Ambrose smirks at me as he twists and writhes to the music in his head. “You’ll soon learn she needs clothing, shoes, and perhaps gloves.”

Alena peers up at me. “Who is he dancing with?”

I struggle to answer in a way that she’ll understand. “Well…”

How do I explain Ambrose to her? The lunatic, who was recently adopted into the family, isn’t right in the head.

Asher moves closer to us with Chloe still peacefully sleeping in his arms.

He murmurs quietly, “He’s dancing with her,” before entering the house.

Ambrose suddenly stops moving around the front yard. His arms slowly lower to rest at his sides.

Red eyes staring straight at Alena, he bows his head. “I’ll go find clothing for you, my dear princess.”

In a blur that even I can barely match, he’s running through the yard and out into the gravel drive. His body gracefully slips from one shaded spot to the next, then disappears into the woods.

“Did I say something bad?” Alena asks.

“No.” I frown. “But it is a very delicate subject. Ambrose is…”

“Broken,” Matthias says, walking past us with his arms loaded up with duffle bags.

Reaching down to take Alena’s hand, I stare at Matthias’s back. What he said isn’t wrong, not by a long shot. But it’s more than just that one word.

“Inside, my stars,” I say and lead her to the porch.

She gracefully walks up the steps beside me. “Will you kiss me again if I come inside?”

My blood thrums with anticipation and I have to swallow back a moan. “Yes.”

Kiss her and more, my body begs of me.

Leading her through the front doorway, I frown.

All of us enter without an issue. Without an invitation.

That’s odd.

Vampires can’t enter the home of a mortal without permission.

“Asher?” I ask as I take the place in. “Did the pack give us this house?”

The entry room is large enough to comfortably hold dozens of people. And thankfully, there are no animal heads mounted to the walls. All the furniture is new and a bit on the plain side. The fabrics are solid colors, mostly different shades of green, and everything that’s not soft is crafted from wood.

But there’s no strong shifter smell lingering anywhere. Only the faintest whiffs here and there, as if they entered and quickly left.

I wonder if this is a new build they haven’t had a chance to use yet?

“They signed over the deed five minutes before you arrived,” Caden answers from the huge kitchen.

Ah, that would explain it.

“Who owns it now?” I ask out of curiosity.