The Deed to the Den

POV Sage Winters

Thorne didn’t spare a second glance at the woman fuming in the distance. To him, Celeste’s twisted mask of jealousy was as insignificant as dust on his shoes. He simply turned his back on the spectacle, dismissing her existence entirely, his focus landing solely on me.

"I’ll take you back," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he opened the rear door of the sleek black car.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing back at my cousin’s distorted face, before sliding into the cool leather seat. Thorne followed, pulling the door shut with a decisive thud that severed us from the outside world.

The interior of the Ashford limousine was a sanctuary of silence, insulated by thick glass. Yet, for me, the air felt thin, charged with a tension that radiated from the man now sitting beside me.

I looked down at the red leather folder resting on my knees. Inside lay the marriage certificate and the transfer papers for fifteen percent of the Ashford Group’s shares. A dowry. A fortune so vast it made my head spin.

"Thorne," I broke the silence, turning toward him. "I can’t keep this. The shares... it’s too much. We should sign a proxy agreement, or I can transfer them back to you. I didn't agree to this marriage for money."

Thorne didn’t look at me. He watched the driver navigate into traffic, his profile cut from granite against the passing city blur.

"The certificate is signed, Sage. The bond is recognized by law," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Are you already trying to back out of the deal?"

"No," I protested quickly.

Silver, my inner wolf, let out a low purr of contentment in the back of my mind, unbothered by my moral dilemma. She liked the power radiating from him.

"I just mean... this is irrational. The Ashfords shouldn't be giving away assets to an outsider just for a contract."

Thorne finally glanced at me, his eyes flashing molten gold. "Ashfords do not give gifts only to take them back. What is mine is yours."

His tone was final, carrying the weight of an Alpha command. It was a declaration of territory. I was the territory.

The car slowed as we approached the wrought-iron gates of the Winters estate. Ahead of us, Elder Marcus stood by his vehicle, looking profoundly satisfied. He watched our car pull up with the approval of a general who had just won a war.

The limousine halted, and we stepped out.

"Excellent," Elder Marcus said, nodding at the folder in my hand. "The union is sealed. I will have the astrologers finalize the date for the ceremony immediately. Don't make me wait too long for great-grandchildren."

Thorne ignored the comment, simply nodding. "Safe travels, Grandfather."

The Elder chuckled and climbed into his car. Within moments, the Ashford convoy peeled away. Thorne didn't move to enter the house. He stood by the car door, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the steps.

"I have to go now," he said, eyeing the house with cold indifference. "Will you be alright here?"

I gripped the folder tighter. "I can handle them."

He studied me for a heartbeat, his gaze piercing, before nodding once. "Good."

He got back into the car and drove away. As the sound of the engine faded, the silence that descended on the estate was suffocating. I turned to face the front door. The moment I stepped across the threshold, the atmosphere shifted violently.

Ronan stood at the base of the grand staircase, arms crossed. The fawning smile he had worn for Elder Marcus was gone, stripped away to reveal raw greed.

Beside him, his wife Lydia wore a sneer that twisted her face into something grotesque.

The mask had fallen.

"Give it to me," Ronan demanded, his voice rough.

"Give you what?"

"Don't play dumb, girl," Ronan snapped, his Alpha aura flaring—a damp, suffocating pressure meant to make me cower.

"The Ashford shares. That fifteen percent. That dowry was negotiated for Celeste, meant for her future. Since you stole her place, the assets come to me."

"Stole?" I let out a dry laugh. "Thorne was clear. He married me. The shares are in my name."

"I am your legal guardian!" Ronan roared, face flushing red. "You are an inexperienced child! I will hold it in the family trust. Hand over the file, Sage. Don't make me take it."

"You aren't doing this for the family," I said, my voice steady. "You're doing this because you're greedy. You tried to sell me to a crippled Alpha this morning, and now you want to strip me of my wedding gifts?"

"You ungrateful wretch!" Lydia shrieked. "We took you in! We fed you!"

"You fed off me," I countered coldly. "You’ve been siphoning profits from my mother’s company for years."

"You are nothing!"

A high-pitched scream cut through the argument. Celeste stormed down the stairs, looking deranged, her eyes wild with envy.

"You are nothing but a placeholder!" she screamed, stopping on the bottom step. "Kieran was your boyfriend, and now you stole my fiancé because you were jealous! You think you deserve Thorne Ashford?"

"I didn't steal anyone," I said calmly. "Thorne chose me."

"He chose the contract!" Celeste spat. "We are the perfect match! Give the shares to Daddy. They are my compensation for the humiliation you caused me!"

"Compensation?" I looked at her—a spoiled, delusional child. "You slept with my boyfriend, got caught, and now you want to be paid for it? You're pathetic."

"I'll kill you!" Celeste shrieked. Her eyes flashed gold as her wolf surfaced. She lunged, claws out, aiming for the red folder. "Give it to me! I'll tear it up! If there's no certificate, there's no marriage!"

I held my ground, lifting the folder high. "Go ahead! Tear it into a thousand pieces! Do you think that dissolves a legal marriage filed with the Bureau? Do you think destroying paper makes Thorne Ashford forget who his wife is?"

Celeste froze inches from me. The logic pierced through her hysteria. She knew I was right. Destroying the document would only prove to the Ashford Pack that she was unstable.

With a frustrated scream, she spun around, grabbing a crystal vase and hurling it against the wall. It shattered with a deafening crash.

"I hate you!" she sobbed, collapsing onto the stairs.

Ronan ignored his daughter’s breakdown, his eyes still fixed on the folder. "This isn't over, Sage. If you think you can hide behind that piece of paper while living under my roof... you are mistaken."

"You're right," I said softly. "It isn't over."

I felt a strange calm settle over me—the calm of a surgeon picking up a scalpel. "Since we are discussing assets, let's talk about the Winters estate. And the remaining forty percent of Winters Global."

Ronan stiffened. "What are you babbling about?"

"My mother's will," I said, stepping forward. "The trust—including the controlling interest in the company and the deed to this house—was to be managed by you until I turned twenty. Or," I paused, "until I married. Whichever came first."

The color drained from Ronan’s face.

"I am twenty years old," I said, tapping the red folder against my palm. "And as of two hours ago, I am legally married. The guardianship is dissolved. The trust is unlocked."

"You... you imply..." Ronan sputtered, sweat beading on his forehead. "I have managed this family! I have kept this roof over your head!"

"You have lived like a king on an inheritance that wasn't yours," I cut him off. "I want my mother’s legacy back. All of it."

"Over my dead body!" Ronan roared, pointing a shaking finger at the door. "Get out! You ungrateful snake! Get out of my house right now!"

I didn't flinch. In fact, I smiled. It was a cold, sharp smile I realized I had borrowed from Thorne.

"I’m not the one who needs to leave," I said, my gaze sweeping over their terrified faces. "This is my mother's house. You're the ones who need to leave."