He followed up with a captured image of his private sending to the she-wolf: "Greetings. These images appear to be stolen from someone else and constitute a violation of territory rights. Remove them immediately, or we will bring this before the pack tribunal."
I clicked back to the original post.
Gone.
That was fast.
I stared at my scry-mirror, something cold settling in my stomach. Finally, I sent a single word into the pack bond-link: "Okay."
Then I dimmed the mirror and looked up at my pack escort.
"Rowan Greyfen. Take me to Phoenix Den Row."
Kael's explanation made sense. On the surface.
Glamour-weaving was everywhere now. Forging images wasn't hard.
But I knew—knew with absolute certainty—that I had never posted pictures of those market-dens anywhere on the scry-net.
And I had never, not once, captured images of Seren's moon-gold.
And truly—what were the chances of a coincidence this exact?
The territory claim seal matched the location. The etching on the moon-gold matched too, rune for rune.
The carriage slowed to a halt before the market-den row.
I pushed open the door and looked up at the three connected storefronts built into the stone facade.