The car shuddered as Merlin pressed harder on the accelerator. Rainwater splashed against the windshield in wild sheets, the wipers struggling to keep up. Lucy's chest tightened—not out of fear alone, but out of the indescribable pull that had taken hold of her ever since she saw him on the cliff.
The white wolf's howl still echoed through the mountains long after the lightning faded.
Crafter flinched in the back seat, curling into himself.
"No, no, no… he cries again… he cries for the lost moon… the broken forest… the broken heart…"
Lucy turned, swallowing her unease. "Crafter, who is he talking about? Who is crying?"
But Crafter only stared at her with those hollow eyes, whispering like a man haunted by memories too terrible to retell.
"You shouldn't have come. But destiny never listens… the forest chose you."
The forest chose her.
Those words didn't feel like riddles.
They felt like truths she hadn't unlocked yet.
Without warning, a flash of white fur appeared in the tree beside the road. Lucy gasped. The wolf moved faster than any creature she'd ever seen—silent, fluid, powerful.
He wasn't chasing the car.
He was shadowing it.
Watching her.
Protecting?
Threatening?
Calling?
Even she didn't know.
Merlin muttered under his breath as he spotted the shape keeping pace with them. "Just great. First traffic, then a puncture, now a demon wolf stalking us. Why not?"
"Merlin…" Lucy said quietly. "He's… not attacking us."
"No," Merlin agreed, eyes narrowed. "He's judging. And I don't like what that means."
Crafter suddenly pressed his forehead to the window. "He waits… he watches… he searches for the moon's child…"
Lucy stiffened.
"The moon's… child?"
Crafter's cracked voice trembled with certainty.
"Yes. The one the forest marked at birth."
Lucy felt something shift within her—like a missing note in a long-forgotten melody suddenly humming back to life.
THE ROAD COLLAPSES
Just when Merlin thought the storm couldn't grow worse, the road ahead flashed under lightning—and Lucy saw it before he did.
"MERLIN—STOP!!"
Merlin slammed the brakes.
The car skidded.
Mud splashed.
The tires screeched.
And they halted just inches from—
a collapsed section of the road.
The mountainside had caved in, taking half the road with it. Broken tree trunks and boulders lay scattered in the gorge below like shattered bones.
Merlin exhaled a shaking breath.
"That was… too close."
Lucy stared at the destruction. "This wasn't natural."
Merlin glanced at her. "You think the landslide was caused by… him?"
Before she could answer, the white wolf emerged beside the broken road. Water dripped from his fur, blue eyes glowing even through the downpour. His presence made the air shift—heavy, ancient, powerful.
Lucy felt her heartbeat sync with something beyond her control.
He stared at her again.
Not at Merlin.
Not at Crafter.
At her.
Thunder rumbled, as if the sky itself understood what passed between them.
Crafter whimpered. "He knows… he sees what sleeps inside you…"
Lucy's fingers tightened around the seat. "What sleeps inside me?"
Crafter shook his head violently. "Not me… not me… ask the forest… ask the moon…"
Merlin sighed heavily. "Fantastic. The old man's talking in poetry now."
But Lucy wasn't dismissing him.
Every word felt heavier than the rain.
The wolf took a step forward, his massive paws sinking into the mud. Rain dripped from his mane like liquid silver. His eyes—those haunting blue eyes—locked onto Lucy's.
And she felt something enter her mind.
A pull deeper than thought.
A voice not spoken through sound—
"Why?"
Lucy gasped, gripping her head.
Merlin reacted instantly. "Lucy? What's wrong? Hey—Lucy!"
But she barely heard him.
Her mind was filled with images she couldn't understand—
a burning forest,
a broken moon,
a woman crying beside a stone altar,
a child with silver threads woven in her hair…
Then—
"Why did you come back?"
The voice was pained.
Accusing.
Desperate.
Lucy shook her head violently. "I—I don't know what you mean!"
She was speaking aloud, but her words were for him.
The wolf flinched, as if struck by her confusion.
His eyes dimmed.
The anger softened—for just a moment.
But then another flash of lightning split the sky—
And the wolf turned sharply, ears raised.
Something was approaching.
THE PACK ARRIVES
From the northern slope, dark shapes appeared through the rain.
One by one, wolves stepped out of the forest.
Not ordinary wolves—larger, stronger, their eyes glowing faintly with silver or gold or deep blue.
A full pack.
Dozens.
Lucy swallowed hard.
The wolves surrounded the white wolf, lowering their heads in respect. They awaited his command—not with fear, but with loyalty etched into their bones.
Merlin's jaw tightened. "Lucy. We need to move. Now."
Lucy couldn't speak. She could only watch as the white wolf lifted his head, rain dripping down his long white mane. The pack fell silent.
The storm paused.
Then—
HOOOOOOOOOWL
A howl of command.
The wolves scattered, sprinting into the forest with supernatural speed.
But the white wolf stayed.
Watching her.
Just her.
Lucy pressed a trembling hand against the inside of the window.
"Who are you… to me?"
The wolf's eyes darkened, and for the first time, sadness overtook the fury.
He didn't speak.
He didn't howl.
He only lowered his head slowly—as if mourning something lost long ago.
And then—
he turned
and vanished into the trees.
The moment he disappeared, the rain eased.
The thunder softened.
The forest breathed again, though still tense, like a predator waiting for dawn.
Merlin placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "Hey. You with me?"
Lucy nodded slowly. "I… heard him."
Merlin froze. "He talked to you?"
"Not with words," she whispered. "With… something else."
Merlin muttered a curse under his breath. "Of course he did. Because why wouldn't a mythical forest guardian pick you as his mind-reading partner?"
Lucy didn't even glare at him. Her mind was too full—of images, emotions, questions, a strange aching sense of recognition.
Crafter quietly lifted his head.
"He remembers you. Even if you don't remember him."
Lucy spun. "Crafter, what does that mean? How would he know me?"
The old man looked at her with trembling eyes.
"Because he watched you the day you were born."
Lucy's blood ran cold.
Ahead, the collapsed road blocked their path.
Behind, the narrow lane they came from was turning into a river of rushing mud.
Merlin clenched the steering wheel. "We can't go back. And we can't go forward."
Lucy's voice was barely a whisper. "Then what do we do?"
Crafter pointed toward the trees.
"The forest opens for you.
Follow the hidden path.
He left it for you."
Merlin stared in disbelief. "You want us to drive into the forest. At night. During a storm. While wolves are on steroids. And a demon wolf is having emotional breakdowns on cliffs."
Crafter nodded simply. "Yes."
Lucy breathed out slowly, the fear settling into something else—resolve.
"He won't hurt us," she said quietly. "Not yet."
Merlin stared at her.
"Not yet? That's supposed to comfort me?"
But then he saw her eyes—the steadiness beneath the fear.
And he sighed.
"Alright. Fine. But if I get eaten, I'm haunting you forever."
Lucy gave a small, tired smile. "Deal."
Merlin turned the wheel sharply.
The car rolled toward the treeline.
The branches parted, as if pulled aside by invisible hands.
The forest itself guided them in.
And above, on the cliff where the wolf once stood—
a faint blue glow flickered.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hurting.