My brow furrowed. The previous den-keeper had signed a ten-cycle lease—nowhere near its end. How could they possibly have been forced out?

And Kael had never breathed a word about changing tenants.

I quickened my pace and called out to one of the workers. "Who authorized this renovation?"

Before he could answer, a she-wolf in fine-spun silks emerged from inside.

She looked me up and down with open contempt. "It's my den. I'll renovate whenever I damn well please." Her voice was shrill, grating against my heightened senses. "Who the hell are you to question me?"

I stared at her face.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

It was her.

The she-wolf from the scry-post.

I locked eyes with her, jaw tight. "These three market-dens belong to me. What makes you think they're yours?"

She blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "Yours? Honey, my mate gave these to me."

She fished a scrying mirror from her embroidered satchel and pulled up her glamour-stored images. "Open your eyes wide and look carefully—whose name is marked on these territory seals?"

Three claim certificates filled the reflective surface, lined up in a row.

Under "Holder," each one read: Raven Thornwilde.

My mind went blank.

How? A territory transfer couldn't happen without my consent and blood-mark. And I'd checked the vault before leaving—every seal, every certificate was still there. Only the moon-gold was missing.

Which meant these documents were almost certainly forged. Counterfeit scent-marks. Glamour-forgery of the highest order.

But forged papers alone couldn't evict a lawful den-keeper. Someone with authority over pack resources had made that happen.

Kael.

When I didn't respond, Raven drew out a long, mocking "Ohhhh."

"You're the owner of that textile den, aren't you?" She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. "My mate already told you—I wanted this space, and you were compensated. So why are you here making a scene?"

Her lips curled. "Unless the payout wasn't enough for you?"

I took a slow breath. Then I held up my own scrying mirror, pointing at the wolf whose image glowed on its surface.

"This is your mate?"

Raven leaned in to look.

The color drained from her face.

Then she screamed.

"How dare you keep my mate's image in your personal mirror!" She jabbed a finger at me, voice climbing to a shriek. "He's the Alpha of the Nightbloom Pack! You think a delusional little omega like you has a chance with him?!"