Blackwood Vs Bracken Novels & Stories

I bounced up and down, as though I was a child on a trampoline, but still the grass remained solid beneath me. I couldn’t hear or see Kathrena and Skye from my position in the grove, tucked away behind dogwood, oak, and cedar trees. There was one birch, too, silver-white and sticking out amongst the cluster of brown trunks. It had lost its leaves already, and it looked disconcertingly like a bleached femur growing out of the ground. I wanted to look away, but as my eyes flashed past it, a single, black smear across its otherwise unmarked trunk caught my attention. Though every bone in my body was begging me to step back, to get away, I edged towards it.

“Birch make wounds heal faster, oak is good for blood pressure, and eucalyptus is good for colds. Venik can be used like wands to cast spells for health.” “And when do you harvest venik?” “At the beginning of June, on Trinity Day, forty-nine days after Easter. There, now can I get back to the fact that you never told me Kashchei was real?” Anya wondered if Greyback was from the deathless lands. Excitement bubbled in her chest. She would go there if it would be the death of her. It was like a worm in her brain, writhing – a driving need.

But in time, when you keep looking, you will see the differences. The mixture of black and brown wood gave of the feeling as if the barks where weak, and the burden was too much on them. They looked frail, compared to the thick branches above. There was just too much green leaves, which made the picture too greenish. But then, you notice the yellow speck of colours and that’s all that is needed to explain the picture. I gasped in amazement. On hearing me, Jos turned towards what I was looking. “Oh this? It’s the only thing I’m good at. I’m only good at making trees.”

His tail tone was not questioning but sinking. He was sure Mary Kinson knew. Mary Kinson slowly raised her eyes. William Black's face was heroic, and there always seemed to be a cold and cruel undertone between the front eyebrows. Along with the shadow cast by the dark lashes between the drooping eyes, it inexplicably frightened people. But somehow, she was not afraid. "The Eucalyptus globulus is poisonous and overpowering, it kills all the plants around it, but only one bird may inhabit it."

With a scream that tore my throat raw, I slammed my palms into the frozen earth. The ground didn't just shake—it shattered. Massive, black-barked roots, thick as a man's torso and covered in three-inch thorns, exploded from the dirt. They moved like snakes, lunging with predatory speed. I heard the sickening crunch of ribs and the wet thud of steel-clad men being slammed against the ancient oaks. The smell of copper and pine sap filled the air as the forest literally began to eat the men who dared to hunt within it.

Without a word, I let go of her throat. Brenna collapsed like a ragdoll, coughing and crying. I ignored her completely. Damn. That swamp. That side of the forest. It wasn’t just dangerous — it was suicide. Bears roamed that part of the woods. Not the usual kind either. Black bears, bigger than horses, half-maddened by the poisonous plants they lived among. Even a full-grown Alpha wolf could be torn to shreds if caught off guard. And Lyra... Fuck.

The moon had barely sunk beneath the horizon when Derek stood at the edge of the forest, the air damp with fog and tension. The witch's map burned softly in his hand, the ink glowing like veins of molten gold as it shifted and twitched, revealing the route through the Darkwood. This wasn’t any ordinary forest. The trees here didn’t whisper like normal woods—they growled, creaked with malice, and breathed like something alive.

I don’t smell the patrol wolves' scent marking. This area juts out towards the waterfront, like it’s a little peninsula, and full of thick, closely set trees. What is odd though is beyond the first couple trees, the rest are black. Black trunks, black branches, black leaves, black needles, black pine cones. But they aren’t burnt. Copyright ©️ 2025 Miss L Writes and Ember Mantel Productions Jason reaches his hand out, “Don’t touch anything. We don’t know what’s on them.” “Do you feel magic here, then?” He asks, looking over his shoulder as he carefully walks forward.

Otto wasn't supposed to be there, but when the emergency call went out, he'd followed at a distance, his Omega instincts screaming that violence was about to destroy everything his family had built. He arrived at Copper Creek to find two packs facing off across the water, thirty feet of rushing mountain stream and centuries of territorial law between them. The tension was so thick he could taste it—predatory focus and barely contained aggression radiating from both sides. "Alpha Blackwood." James's voice carried across the clearing with formal authority. "You're trespassing on Moorland territory." The Blackwood Alpha was a massive man in his forties, with the kind of presence that commanded

Krager slowed slightly, glancing back at us. “Stay close.” Aisha frowned. “That’s comforting.” Krager ignored the sarcasm. “The Darklands don’t like strangers.” I raised an eyebrow. “The forest doesn’t like strangers?” “Not wolves.” I looked around again. The trees here were taller than those in the outer forest, their trunks thicker, bark darker, branches reaching high enough to swallow much of the sky. Moss clung to their roots like ancient scars, and strange pale fungi glowed faintly along fallen logs.