She room felt too small after Merlin finished speaking, as if the old legend had soaked into the walls. Lucy sat frozen, staring at him, trying to absorb the impossible.
A curse.
A creature born of divine rage.
A forest god broken by fire.
A glowing figure in the moonlight, surrounded by wolves.
Her father collapsing in her dream, blood staining his hands.
It was all too much.
"What… what does any of this have to do with my father?" she finally whispered.
Merlin's jaw tightened.
He looked down at his hands, threading his fingers together like he was preparing to say something he shouldn't.
"Lucy… your father lived in the Evergreen more than any officer before him. He knew the forest. He respected it. And the villagers…" He hesitated. "They trusted him."
She wiped the corner of her eye. "And?"
"And they told him things they wouldn't tell the Bureau."
Lucy's breath hitched.
"What things?"
Merlin inhaled deeply, eyes lifting to meet hers.
"Before your father died," he said carefully, "he reported strange sightings. People disappearing. Animals acting unnaturally. Lights in the trees at night. And voices."
"Voices?" Lucy echoed, brows furrowed.
"Voices," Merlin repeated. "Whispers. Like chants or calls. He told his team that it felt like the forest was… waking up."
Lucy felt her skin prickle.
Merlin continued, voice lower now.
"Three days before he died, he requested backup. He said he needed more men. He sounded… unsettled. Not scared, but… shaken."
Lucy's chest tightened painfully. She could almost hear her father's stern voice saying those words. Something is wrong here.
He would never leave a mystery alone. He would dig until he found the truth.
"And then?" she forced out.
Merlin looked away, jaw clenching. "The Bureau denied his request."
Lucy stared. "Why?"
"Because," Merlin said bitterly, "they didn't want attention on the forest. The government is in the middle of negotiating land deals with developers. Rumors of creatures and strange incidents don't help with business."
Lucy's nails dug into her palms.
"That's why my father was alone," she whispered. "That's why he—"
She stopped, unable to finish.
Merlin's expression softened. He shifted closer, his voice dropping to something gentler.
"Lucy… your father didn't die because he was weak. He died because he was alone against something none of us understand."
Her throat tightened until it hurt.
"And yet," Merlin continued, "he still fought. He fought whatever took him. He fought until the end. The scene where they found him…" He paused. "It showed signs of a struggle. But it wasn't an animal fight. It was… different."
Lucy's mind raced. "Different how?"
Merlin hesitated, then answered:
"Like he was trying to protect someone."
Her breath stopped.
"Protect who?"
"We don't know. All the CCTV cameras near the deeper forest cut off at the moment of the attack. Except for one. The same one that caught the wolves. And the glowing figure."
Lucy tightened her grip on the blanket. "You never told me what he was doing in the footage."
Merlin swallowed, eyes darkening.
"He wasn't just standing there, Lucy. The glowing man—his posture wasn't aggressive. He was kneeling. Over something."
Lucy's pulse hammered in her ears. "Something? Or… someone?"
Merlin met her gaze.
"We think… your father might have been alive for a few seconds after the attack. And the glowing man—he wasn't finishing him."
Lucy leaned forward, breath trembling.
"He was trying to heal him."
Silence crashed between them.
Lucy's mind spun violently. "But he died."
"Yes," Merlin admitted. "Whatever he tried… it wasn't enough."
Lucy pressed a hand to her mouth, tears burning her eyes again. "Then… who is he? Why would something like that try to save him?"
Merlin shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But I know he wasn't attacking Robert. The wolves… they weren't attacking him either. They circled him like—"
He paused.
"Like they were guarding him."
Lucy stared.
Guarding him?
Guarding her father?
The thought rattled something deep in her chest—fear, confusion, anger, and a strange, faint thread of hope all tangled together.
"Lucy," Merlin said, voice quiet but firm, "whatever that creature is… it didn't come for your father. It came for something connected to him."
She swallowed hard. "Connected how?"
Merlin's voice softened. "Legacy. Bloodline. Secrets he never told you."
Lucy felt her pulse pound. Pictures and memories of her father flickered through her mind—his long stares into the forest, his quiet warnings, the old notes he never explained.
"I don't know who he really was," she whispered, shaking.
Merlin reached out instinctively—stopping just short of touching her hand.
"You knew who he was to you," he said softly. "And that's the part that matters."
Lucy looked at him—really looked at him. The concern in his eyes wasn't pity. It wasn't duty. It was something deeper, something she didn't have the strength to name yet.
The room was dim. The moonlight painted a faint line across Merlin's face. His posture was steady, but his eyes—his eyes held a worry that felt… personal.
She took a shaky breath.
"Merlin…" she whispered. "Are you scared?"
He didn't lie.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Not of the creature. Not of the legend. I'm scared because whoever—or whatever—is awakening in that forest… is connected to you."
Lucy's breath caught.
Connected.
To her.
Merlin continued, voice deepening, "Your father wasn't the first officer who died in strange circumstances. But he's the only one the creature appeared for."
Lucy stiffened.
"What does that mean?" she murmured.
Merlin leaned closer, elbows resting on his knees.
"It means," he said slowly, "that something in the Evergreen recognized him. And now… it may recognize you."
Lucy felt terror crawl up her spine like cold metal.
She hugged herself, trembling.
"I don't want any of this," she whispered, voice breaking. "I just want my father back. My grandmother safe. I didn't ask for creatures, or legends, or curses—"
Her voice cracked, and she curled in on herself, overwhelmed.
Without a word, Merlin reached out—not grabbing her, not pulling her—just letting his hand rest gently on her shoulder.
The touch was warm.
Grounding.
Real.
"Lucy," he said softly. "You're not alone. You're not going to face this alone. I promise you."
Her tears spilled silently.
"I'm tired of being afraid," she whispered.
"I know," he murmured. "But you don't have to be brave alone."
Lucy looked up at him through blurred eyes.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked quietly. "You barely know me."
Merlin held her gaze, and for the first time, something unguarded flickered in his expression—something raw and honest.
"Because," he said slowly, "I knew your father. I respected him. And because… when I look at you, I see someone who didn't deserve any of this."
Lucy swallowed, the weight of his words sinking deep.
For the first time in days, she felt warmth under the cold.
Then—
A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows violently.
Lucy flinched.
Merlin stood immediately, instincts sharp, eyes scanning the room.
The trees outside rustled louder. Too loud for an ordinary night. A sound low and distant echoed—a howl.
Not close.
But not far enough.
Merlin stiffened. "Lucy… stay inside. Lock the doors. Don't come out."
Fear rose in her throat. "Merlin, what is it?"
He looked toward the window, eyes narrowing.
"Something is moving in the forest."
Lucy's heart stopped.
"And it's coming closer."