Page 4 of His Relentless Mate

The sound of the ocean was soothing, the rhythmic crash of the waves helping to calm the turmoil inside him. He stopped at a spot where the sand was still damp from the tide and looked out at the horizon, where the moonlight reflected off the water in silvery ripples.

And then he heard it—the distant, familiar roar that sent a chill down his spine.

Trace stiffened, his senses going on high alert. He knew that sound, knew it deep in his bones. It was the sound of a dragon, a sound he had become all too familiar with in the years since his transformation. There were a few dragons here on the island, but none of them would have been flying at this time of night in this area. There was too big a chance of being seen.

He scanned the sky, but there was nothing to see, just the faint outline of clouds drifting across the moon. The roar echoed again, fainter this time as if the creature was moving away. He was certain it wasn’t anyone he knew, but he thought he’d reach out tomorrow just to be sure. If there was an unknown dragon in their midst, he wanted to know who it was and what they were doing here.

Trace stood there for a long time, listening to the silence that followed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was something out there, something he couldn’t explain, and it wasn’t just the dragon. The past was catching up with him, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face what it would bring.

But one thing was certain: whatever was happening now, whatever was out there, was connected to the case they were working on. He was certain of it. And it was connected to Annika, too. He could feel it, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a heavy cloak.

As he made his way back to his place, Trace couldn’t shake the feeling that the past was about to collide with the present in a way that would change everything. And he wasn’t sure if they would survive the impact.

Chapter Three

Annika

Annika sat in a quiet, dimly lit, small office of the Kodiak Police Department, surrounded by stacks of old case files. The scent of aged paper and ink filled the room, a smell she had come to associate with unsolved mysteries and the long-forgotten lives entangled within them. Following up on cold cases had become a hobby of hers, and she’d found she was quite good at it. She had been at it for hours, combing through every report and every piece of evidence, hoping to find something—anything—that might shed new light on the decades-old murder that had brought her back to this town. But so far, it felt like she was trying to squeeze water from a stone.

Frustration gnawed at her as she scanned yet another interview transcript, her eyes aching from the strain. The words blurred together, a jumble of meaningless text that did nothing to bring her closer to the truth. Annika sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to ward off the headache building behind her eyes. This case was a mess—disjointed and incomplete, with too many dead ends and not enough solid leads. It was no wonder it had remained unsolved for so long.

And then there was Trace. Annika couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment every time she thought about him. She had known, intellectually, that seeing him again after all these years would be difficult. But she hadn’t expected the cold, professional distance he had put between them. There was nothing overtly hostile about his behavior—he was polite, courteous, even helpful—but there was a wall there, one she couldn’t seem to breach.

Maybe it was for the best, she told herself for the hundredth time. Maybe she was better off not getting too close to him again. After all, wasn’t this the reason she hadn’t waited for him all those years ago? She had known even then that their paths were diverging, that the life she wanted to build for herself wasn’t one that could be easily intertwined with his. Trace had his military career, his future as a soldier, and she had known she couldn’t ask him to give that up for her.

But that wasn’t the whole truth, was it? The real reason she had left wasn’t just about Trace. It was about her. She had wanted to become a cop, to make a difference in a way that wasn’t possible for her in Kodiak. Her uncle had been the police chief at the time, and she had known that he would never allow her to join the force. He was protective, almost to a fault, and the idea of his niece becoming a cop in a small, isolated town like Kodiak was something he would never have supported. So, she had left, pursuing her dreams elsewhere and carving out a life for herself in Seattle where she didn’t have to answer to anyone.

And yet, now that she was back with the badge she had earned through hard work and determination, Annika couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss. She had gained everything she thought she wanted, but at what cost? The man she had loved was a stranger to her now, and the town that had once been her home felt like a place filled with ghosts.

The door to the records room creaked open, and Annika looked up to see Dr. Trevor Billingsly standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. The new medical examiner had been a recent addition to the town, and though she didn’t know him, she had found his insights into the case surprisingly valuable. He was young, sharp, with a curiosity that matched her own, and he seemed genuinely interested in helping her solve this mystery.

“Thought I might find you here,” Trevor said, stepping into the room. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please,” Annika replied, gesturing to the chair across from her. “I could use the company. These files are starting to blend together.”

Trevor sat down and placed a folder on the table between them. “I’ve been going over the victim’s autopsy report again. I know it’s old, but I think there are a few things that were missed in the initial examination. Maybe not intentionally, but...”

Annika raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did you find?”

He opened the folder, revealing the yellowed pages of the autopsy report. “It’s subtle, but there are signs that the victim might have been involved in something... unusual before he died. There’s some bruising here,” he pointed to a faded photograph, “that doesn’t match the supposed cause of death. It could suggest he was restrained or involved in some kind of struggle that wasn’t documented.”

Annika leaned forward, studying the photo closely. “So, you’re saying there’s more to this than what’s in the official report?”

“That’s my theory,” Trevor said, his tone thoughtful. “But it’s just a hunch at this point. I’d need more evidence to be sure. Unfortunately, most of the physical evidence has either been lost or degraded over time, so it’s hard to say for certain.”

“Still, it’s something,” Annika said, feeling a flicker of hope. “It’s more than we’ve had in a long time. If we can find a way to corroborate this...”

“I’m already looking into it,” Trevor assured her. “There’s a lot of interest in unsolved cases like this, and sometimes, fresh eyes can make all the difference.”

Annika nodded, grateful for his help. It was nice to have someone else invested in the case, someone who wasn’t weighed down by the personal history that clouded her every interaction with Trace. “Thank you, Trevor. I really appreciate you taking the time to go over this.”

He smiled warmly. “Just doing my job. Besides, I find these kinds of cases fascinating. There’s always something hidden, something that was missed the first time around. It’s like a puzzle, and I’ve always loved puzzles.”

Annika smiled back, feeling a bit of the tension in her shoulders ease. “Well, here’s hoping we can piece this one together. It’s been hanging over this town for too long.”

As they continued discussing the case, Annika’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen and felt a chill run down her spine when she saw the message. It was from an unknown number, and the text was short and to the point.

Drop the investigation or you’ll regret it.