Chapter 1

Chapter One

Trace

T race Gallagher reveled in the freedom of the sky, his powerful wings stretching wide as he flew above the rugged wilderness of Kodiak Island. Each beat of his massive wings sent ripples of energy through his body, a thrilling reminder of the raw power coursing through his veins. The air up here was thin and cold, but it felt exhilarating against his scales, a bracing contrast to the warm fire that simmered within him.

Far below, the world was a patchwork of green forests, jagged mountain peaks, and the deep, glistening blue of the sea. From this height, everything seemed small and insignificant, mere details in the grand tapestry of the earth. The horizon stretched out endlessly, meeting the sky in a soft blur where colors blended, and the only sound was the rhythmic whoosh of his wings cutting through the wind.

Trace ascended even higher, his massive form piercing through the scattered clouds, his presence a shadow in the sunlit mist. Up here, in the thin air, he felt truly alive, the constraints of the human world far below. The sensation of flying—of truly soaring—was indescribable, a mixture of absolute control and unbridled freedom. He could feel every shift in the wind, every current of air that supported his flight, and he adjusted his wings instinctively, riding the thermal updrafts like a master of the skies.

The sun broke through the clouds, casting a golden light across his emerald scales and making them shimmer with an ethereal glow. Trace turned his body, angling himself toward the light and basking in the warmth. He let out a low, rumbling growl of contentment that vibrated through his chest, a sound that resonated with the primal part of him that was deeply connected to this ancient form.

For a few moments, he allowed himself to simply exist in the pure joy of flight, gliding effortlessly, a majestic creature of myth brought to life. There was a magic in this, a deep, intrinsic connection to something older than time, something that had always been and would always be. The sky was his domain, a place where he was both king and guardian, bound to the earth below but always yearning for the freedom of the heavens.

But as much as he cherished this part of himself, Trace knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Duty called him back to the ground, back to the responsibilities he had taken on as Chief of Police in the small city of Kodiak, Alaska. Kodiak might not be big when compared with most cities, but it was home to Trace, and he loved it. With a reluctant sigh, he began his descent, angling his wings to slowly spiral down through the cloud cover.

The landscape below grew larger and more defined as he neared the ground. Trees that had once been specks, now stood tall and proud, the tops rustling as his wind currents disturbed them. He pinpointed the familiar clearing, a secluded spot nestled at the edge of a dense forest where he could shift safely. He landed with a soft thud, his talons digging into the earth as the scent of pine and damp soil filled his senses.

Trace paused for a moment, savoring the connection to the earth after his time in the sky before he began the familiar process of shifting. The swirling mist of the shift surrounded him with shards of color like fire and ice, as well as lightning and thunder. Scales retracted, bones realigned, and the towering figure of the dragon slowly gave way to the tall, muscular form of a man. The transition was seamless, the magic inherent to his being making it as natural as drawing breath.

Once fully human, Trace walked over to the small boulder where he’d stashed his clothes earlier. The cool air nipped at his bare skin, a reminder of the wildness he had just left behind. He dressed quickly, pulling on his jeans and thick black sweater that clung to his still-warm skin. He laced up his boots with practiced ease, his movements efficient and unhurried. Grabbing his down vest, Trace stood, fully clothed once more, as he cast a final glance around the clearing. The tranquility of the place seeped into him, grounding him before he turned and made his way through the thick underbrush toward the town.

Heading back to the trail that would lead him back to the responsibilities of his human life, he felt them settle onto his shoulders like a familiar weight. The path to the town was well-trodden, but each step carried the lingering memory of the skies, a reminder that he was more than just a man. He was a dragon-shifter, but more than that, he was a cop, and he would protect this place with every ounce of strength he had.

Back in his Range Rover, he drove back into town; the small city’s architecture standing in stark contrast to the wild beauty of the island itself. As he reached the city’s state-of-the-art police station and jail, whose exterior was masonry walls and glass, Trace’s mind shifted fully to the tasks at hand. Parking his vehicle, he got out and headed toward the entrance. He pushed open the glass door, the scent of coffee and paper greeting him like an old friend.

Behind the front desk, Officer Jacobs looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his chief. “Hey, Chief,” Jacobs greeted, his tone filled with warmth and respect.

Trace nodded, a small, reassuring smile curving his lips. “Morning, Jacobs,” he replied, his deep voice steady and calm, a perfect match to the strong, grounded presence he projected.

Stepping further into the station, Trace felt the last remnants of his flight fall away, replaced by the familiar rhythm of duty. Here, on the ground, he was Chief Trace Gallagher, the leader of this department, but he knew, deep down, that the skies would always call to him, reminding him of the magic and majesty that still flowed through his veins.

ANNIKA

Annika Connelly gripped the steering wheel of her rental car a little too tightly as she navigated the unloading ramp of the ferry into Kodiak, Alaska. The familiar landscape, a mixture of dense forests and towering mountains, felt like a ghost from her past, haunting her with each turn of her tires. It had been over a decade since she had left this place behind, and now, as she left the dock for the town she’d once called home, the memories surged up with an intensity she wasn’t prepared for.

The last time she had been here, she was just eighteen, young and desperately in love with Trace Gallagher. The memory of that final, heartbreaking conversation still echoed in her mind, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. He had been so determined, so resolute in his decision to join the military, and she had been equally determined to follow her own path, no matter how much it tore her apart to leave him. They had been each other's everything, and then suddenly, they were nothing.

But that was a lifetime ago. Now, she was here on a mission, called back by her uncle, the recently retired police chief, to help solve a cold case that had haunted the community for decades. The unsolved murder of a prominent local businessman had left a stain on the town, and her uncle believed she had the skills to finally bring closure. It was an honor to be asked, but the task came with its own set of burdens—burdens that included facing the ghosts of her past.

As the small town of Kodiak came into view, Annika felt the knot in her gut tighten. She had thought she was prepared for this, but now that she was here, the memories were overwhelming. The streets were the same, the buildings unchanged. It was as if time itself had been frozen, and only she had moved on. It was all too familiar, and yet, it felt like a lifetime ago.

After checking into the Airbnb she’d selected for her stay, she headed out to the new, sleek, and shiny police station. It was nothing at all like the nondescript building that had been the ”cop shop” for her entire life and where her uncle had been chief for most of that time. She parked in the visitors’ area and cut the engine, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for what was to come. This wasn’t about her past, she reminded herself. This was about solving a case and bringing justice to a family who had waited too long for answers. But no matter how much she told herself that, she couldn’t shake the sense of dread that had settled over her.

Annika pushed open the door and stepped inside, the scent of coffee and old paper immediately taking her back. The station might be all sleek and modern, but it smelled like every other police station she’d ever been in. The station was buzzing with activity—officers moving about, phones ringing, and the low hum of voices filling the space. She glanced around, taking in the familiar sights, when her eyes landed on a figure across the room.

Trace Gallagher.

Shit! Why did he have to be here? Couldn’t he have managed to get himself killed during one of his special ops missions or at least found someplace else to live? Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes locked, and for a moment, the noise around them faded into the background. He looked almost the same as he had all those years ago. Oh, he was older and his body more muscular, but she could still recall every line in his tall and broad-shouldered frame. He stared at her with those piercing blue eyes that had once looked at her with what she’d thought was so much love. But now, those eyes were guarded, hard, and as they stared at each other, a wave of unspoken history passed between them.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The years fell away, and Annika was eighteen again, standing on the edge of everything she had ever known, about to walk away from the only person she had ever truly loved. But then, reality snapped her back into place, and Annika forced herself to break the gaze.

“Gallagher,” she said, her voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil she felt inside. She was here to do a job, and she would be damned if she let old feelings get in the way.

“It’s Chief, Annika,” Trace replied, his voice low and rough, tinged with a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place.

She gave him a brief nod and then quickly shifted her attention to the matter at hand. “I didn’t know.” She was going to kill her uncle. “My uncle asked me to come up to assist with the Hansen murder. He sent me most of the files, and I’ve gotten up to snuff. I’m here to brief you and your team,” she said, keeping her tone professional, almost clinical. She had to keep her distance, had to focus on the job and not the man standing before her.

“Right this way,” he said, ushering her into a conference room that would have made the brass in the Seattle Police Department green with envy.

As she briefed the team, Annika was careful to keep her emotions in check, her words precise and devoid of any personal inflection. But she could feel Trace’s eyes on her the entire time, could sense the tension in the room that no one else seemed to notice. Every now and then, she would catch a glimpse of his expression, the same mix of curiosity and wariness that she felt gnawing at her insides. But she pushed it all down, determined to stay professional, determined to ignore the past.

The day had been long, and so far, the night hadn’t been much better. Sleep eluded her. The weight of the day pressed down on her, a heavy reminder of the unresolved feelings she had buried long ago. Giving up on the idea of resting, Annika left the small cottage where she was staying and walked down to the beach. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the water, and the cool breeze off the sea helped to clear her mind.

She walked along the shore, her feet sinking into the soft sand with each step. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was soothing, a balm to her frayed nerves. But the tranquility was short-lived, replaced by a growing sense of unease that she couldn’t quite shake.

Annika paused, looking out over the moonlit water, her thoughts swirling. She didn’t notice the shadowy figure watching her from the tree line, hidden in the darkness, eyes trained on her every move. The chill that ran down her spine had nothing to do with the cool night air.

Then, from above, she heard it—a low, guttural roar that sent a shiver of recognition through her. It was a sound she had never heard and yet one that evoked memories from long ago—a dragon’s roar. At least that’s what she thought a dragon should sound like. It’s what they sounded like on television.

Annika looked up, her heart pounding in her chest. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling against the inky blackness, but there was nothing to be seen. And yet, she knew that sound, knew it deep in her bones. Even though she’d never heard a real dragon, somehow, she knew the sound from above was a portent of things to come.

As the roar faded into the night, Annika stood there, her mind racing. The past she had tried so hard to escape was catching up to her, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face it. But one thing was certain—whatever was happening now was tied to what had happened all those years ago, and she had no choice but to confront it.