“Cursed?!” Waverly repeated. Her hands trembled and she felt like she was living a nightmare. There was no way this was happening again.
“What are you talking about?” Sawyer asked. His hand was resting on his lap, and he leaned forward, listening intensely to what Harold had to say.
“When I was a kid, there was a myth—more like an urban legend—about the siren of the lake.” Harold’s eyes were wide, and his gaze was focused on Waverly. The fire light illuminated one side of his face.
“We didn’t know much about her…everything was kept secret. All that we knew was men would go into the Wandering Forest and never return. Those who did came back telling tales of their encounter with the siren; a mermaid who resided on in the eastern river and sang a sweet tune, luring men towards her where she would then ensnare them in her grasp and kill them.”
Waverly jumped in her spot and Sawyer reached out an arm to calm her.