{Rylee’s P.O.V.}
Three months. It has been three godforsaken months since I had that premonition of everyone dying at the Golden Moon Alpha ceremony, and not a single trace of the f*****g Pattersons could be found. I knew for a fact that the only way I could even have that premonition was if the attack was—without a doubt—going to happen, had the ceremony taken place. That meant Eric and that asshat of a son of his had to be within a certain radius; and yet, none of Golden Moon’s warriors found any evidence of rogues or uninvited visitors.
I’ve been practically ripping out my own hair while trying to figure out who the mole could be, and where the hell Eric and that sorry excuse of a family of his was hiding. Wyatt had already sent Victor, Justin, and
