Inder The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

Oscar growled in a nervous state. "Think fast Oscar, this is a forest, and our little mate is a Dryad. Where do you think she is?" Largo said in their mind link, trying to open his brothers' minds. "Of course. Dryads. The Fairy of Trees..." Draco responded in their mind link. The triplets simultaneously looked up to see the trees and the lush leaves on top of them. Largo looked around, taking his steps slowly, sniffing with his sharp nose and trying to catch her sweet scent on the top of the tree.

Luna I stared at Indrik like he had suddenly grown two horns before turning my attention back to the grove and studying them for any signs of them being damaged. I frowned as I noticed a break in the line of trees to the center of the grove. Where there were supposed to be trees, there were creeper plants instead. They had grown very thick and were barely moved by occasional gusts of wind but their presence still stuck out as what they were, a piece of skin that had grown to replace a wound. My heart bubbled with anger as I glared at Indrik, trying my best to keep my temper in check.

“There is nowhere to hide.” “You think so?” she smirked suspiciously. I was no fool. Elena was a witch, so of course she had a lot of places to hide by simply vanishing into thin air. “You’ve heard of the Oak tree? It has the power to take the most ancient life. But that’s not my favourite part... it also has the power to suppress the power of a witch when sprinkled around the vicinity of where the witch is found,” the grin spread across my face, satisfied at the reaction I got out of Elena.

MAXINE We made our way to the old oak tree near the lake. The moon was hanging low in the sky. It cast a pale glow on the water. I could see the massive oak tree in the distance, its branches twisting like fingers. This was where it was all going to end. We reached the base of the tree. The ground beneath our feet is uneven and covered in fallen leaves. Mr. Grayson pulled out the scroll from the small box containing the last piece. He brought the other pieces from his bag one after the other.

Thorne: It had been five years since the death of his mom and abduction of his mate, and just as he had spent every evening since her funeral, Thorne stood before at the tree planted where his mother was buried, in her honor. The tree, a sturdy silver oak, stands tall and proud, its bark shimmering with a soft, ethereal glow. Despite being only five years old, it has grown remarkably fast, its branches stretching towards the sky like outstretched arms, providing a canopy of shade and comfort. The leaves, a vibrant green, rustle softly in the breeze, releasing a gentle whisper of wisdom and peace.

So I was surprised and a bit incredulous that there was an oak tree here that was new to my eyes. As if it could be any more perplexing. For the third time, I passed by the oak tree again. My jaw fell open. When I saw it, I became anxious. My pace accelerated as a result. It accelerated to the point where I was almost running. When I once more saw the oak tree, my knees buckled. I was so worn out. My knees sunk into the ground. I tightly close my eyes and realize that I'm mired in some kind of nonsense.

Birds chirped melodiously, their songs harmonizing with the rustling leaves and the distant howls of the pack. We ventured deeper into the heart of the pack lands, where the ancient oak tree stood tall and majestic. Its branches reached toward the sky, casting a protective shadow over the surrounding area. The ground beneath it now teemed with life, lush green grass and delicate ferns adorning the soil. "This is where it all began," Lady Loretta said softly, her voice filled with reverence. "The oak tree, the source of our pack's prosperity, and the testament to your power, Royal."

The old oak tree still stands at the center, its branches spreading like gnarled fingers against the sky. Dante pulls a shovel from his truck bed. "Thomas said the north side of the tree, three feet down." They walk to the oak in silence. Sera's heart pounds as Dante starts to dig. Every shovelful of earth feels like they're excavating their own graves. "There." Dante drops to his knees, brushing dirt away from something metallic. A small lockbox, rusted but intact. He pulls it free and sets it on the ground between them. The lock is simple—Dante breaks it with one sharp twist.

Those woods became our kingdom. I remember the day Ava decided to teach me how to climb the old oak tree that stood in the center of our usual meeting spot. It was massive, its trunk so wide it would take three of us holding hands to circle it. The bark was rough and gray, covered in places with soft green moss that felt like velvet under our fingers.

Rowan’s POV I sat with my back against the same oak tree I’d leaned on for four days straight, one knee drawn up, forearm resting across it. The bark had worn a permanent groove in my cloak. My stomach had long since stopped growling. Now, it just ached in quiet protest. The dead-end clearing looked exactly the same as it had yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. It was made of thick pines, fallen needles, no tracks, and no scent beyond this point. I had circled this spot so many times I could walk it blindfolded. I had clawed at roots, sniffed every inch of bark, shifted, and shifted again until my muscles trembled. Nothing.