Page 12 of His Relentless Mate

Trace nodded, his gaze locking onto hers. “So much has changed since then.”

Annika nodded, but there was something in her eyes—something vulnerable, something that reminded him of the girl she had been, and the woman she had become. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, to pull her back into the warmth of their shared past.

Without thinking, Trace took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, but he also saw the spark of something else—something that had never really died.

“Annika,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I?—”

But before he could finish, she moved closer, her breath warm against his skin, her lips hovering just inches from his. The world seemed to hold its breath as they stood there, caught in a moment that felt both familiar and new.

Then, in a heartbeat, Trace closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was both gentle and desperate, as if trying to reclaim something that had been lost. Annika responded, her hands finding their way to his chest as she pressed closer, deepening the kiss with a passion that took them both by surprise. Their tongues tangled and danced, at first a bit awkwardly and then as if the time that had lapsed had disappeared completely.

For a moment, everything else faded away—the investigation, the danger, the years of separation—and all that mattered was the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her lips, the way their bodies seemed to remember each other even after all this time.

But just as quickly as the moment had begun, it was shattered by the sound of laughter and teasing voices.

“Uncle Trace, get a room!” a familiar voice called out, followed by a chorus of giggles.

Trace and Annika broke apart, both of them turning to see Tricia and a group of her friends walking down the beach, their expressions a mixture of amusement and surprise.

Trace felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as Tricia grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like you’re having fun,” she teased, clearly enjoying the chance to catch him off guard.

Annika took a step back, her face flushed as she quickly composed herself. “We were just?—”

But Tricia waved her off, still grinning. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone. But seriously, maybe next time pick a more private spot?”

Trace chuckled, shaking his head at his niece’s audacity. “All right, all right. You’ve had your fun. Now go on, leave us alone.”

Tricia and her friends laughed as they continued down the beach, their playful banter echoing in the evening air.

When they were gone, Trace turned back to Annika, who was still blushing slightly but smiling, nonetheless. “Well, that was… unexpected,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Trace rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension from before slowly dissipate. “Yeah, not exactly how I planned it.”

Annika’s smile softened, and she took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s okay, Trace. I’m just… glad we’re here. Together.”

Trace looked down at her, feeling the warmth of her touch, the connection that had always been there, just beneath the surface. Because some things, no matter how much time passed, were simply meant to be. He had heard other shifters talk about a fated or eternal mate. Had Annika always been his?

Chapter Seven

Annika

Annika woke to the insistent buzz of her phone vibrating on the nightstand. Groggy, she reached out, fumbling for the device, her eyes barely open as she swiped to answer the call. The name on the screen pulled her fully into consciousness: Detective Frank Rossi.

"Frank?" she croaked; her voice thick with sleep as she sat up. Early morning light filtered through the curtains, making her blink. “Do you know what time it is?”

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I always forget about the time difference. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I wanted to get you before you got into the station." Frank's voice came through the line, steady and familiar. "I think I’ve got something big. I think you’re going to want to hear this."

Annika's heart rate quickened, the remnants of sleep vanishing as she swung her legs out of bed and stood. "What is it?"

“I’ve been going over those files you sent me, and something caught my eye. There’s a pattern here—similarities between the Kodiak murder and a series of unsolved murders along the West Coast. It’s not just the method of the killings, Annika. It’s the victims, the timing, even the locations. They’re not in the same city, obviously, but the kinds of places the killer uses are eerily similar. I think whoever did this may have been active for years.”

Annika’s pulse sped up as Frank laid out the details. This was the breakthrough she had been hoping for, the thread that could tie everything together. The idea that the murder in Kodiak wasn’t an isolated incident but part of a larger, more sinister pattern sent a thrill of urgency through her.

“Do you have names? Suspects?” she asked, grabbing a notepad from the nightstand and jotting down the information as Frank continued.

“There are a few names that keep popping up in the background—associates, business partners, people connected to the victims. One name in particular stands out: Peter Larson. He was a close associate of Carl Hansen’s, and he’s been linked to at least two of the other murders along the coast.”

“Peter Larson,” Annika repeated, the name settling heavily in her mind. “I’ll look into him. Thanks, Frank. This could be exactly what we need.”

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