Read Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

Suddenly, they were all healed. Meanwhile in a different scene, The other faceless figure, the one who had ventured into the forest, moved with a quiet determination through the dense undergrowth. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, but the air was heavy with a sense of foreboding. The figure walked with a strong sense of determination towards a specific tree, an ancient oak bearing strange orange fruit. He reached out and gently placed his moon chain against the trunk of the tree. The forest floor trembled. The surrounding trees seemed to sway in unison, as if acknowledging a powerful presence of the moon chain.

The accumulation of fifteen years of being together had made the arrangement more fully itself, not less. They stood under the oak. The June light came through the full canopy in the specific quality of the filtered summer light — green and warm and particular. The oak's trunk was wide — wider than Ernest could reach around, wider than two people could reach around together. The bark was rough, the texture of the old oak, the specific pattern of ridges and crevices that had formed over decades. The roots spread out from the base, some of them visible above the ground, the evidence of the tree's underground life.

Maya’s POV: I look at the huge oak tree in front of us and forget how to breathe for a moment. It is taller than the rest. Its trunk is wide and old, with deep lines running along the bark. The branches stretch high, almost touching the moon. Lyra walks closer and places her palm on the tree like she knows it. “This is the oldest tree in this part of the forest,” she says softly. I step beside her. “How do you know?”

Golden wheat plants danced in the wind as the sun inched towards the horizon in the distance, plunging the entire world into a gentle, golden hour. In the distance, there was a little hilltop on the side, with a single oak tree in the middle. My dad once told me that the tree was so precious to the farmer who owned the wheat field that he didn’t cut it down, even when his humble farm grew and made him a millionaire. Beneath that oak tree, there was a figure. Something told me to go to them, and I followed. As I grew closer, climbing up the hilltop, the figure grew clearer and clearer.

Blood streamed down my calves, but I pushed myself up and wiped the corners of my lips. "Come on." The tension in Charles' face eased up, and Rachel smiled. "Where is she?" "Under the tree on the hill behind the town." "What's she doing there?" "Waiting for someone." Charles frowned but didn't press for more answers. He walked away, while Rachel followed him. I was dead last in the procession. We passed through the yard and stepped onto the dirt road leading to the hill. The winds were howling tonight, and my sister's favorite tree had nearly gone bald. Empty branches were extending themselves toward the sky. From afar, the tree resembled a withered person with their arms open.

providing the male Alpha guidance they desperately needed to understand their unique nature. Oscar dropped the logs onto the ground and walked over to the fallen oak, whistling softly as he inspected the shattered wood. "An eighty-year-old oak tree," Oscar said, shaking his head with a mixture of awe and concern. "Amora, your son just snapped a mature hardwood tree with a raw, unrefined pup-strike. When I was four years old, the most I could do was scratch the paint off my father’s truck."

“Glee . . . shit.” Another tremor jolted them, and the centuries-old cottonwood tree—the only thing left out there—twisted and leaned, losing its foothold on the remainder of the crumbling bank. Slipping away. Richard felt something at his elbow. This time it was Owen tugging at him, a clogged warning in his throat. Pulling him back from the decimated park area. Toward the waiting vehicle. “Daddeee . . . ” Katie fretted. Richard took heed and went.

We just stood, holding hands and enjoying the cool breeze and of course, the sweet melody of the birds. Then Nicholas’ lips twisted. I knew he was about to break the awkward silence. Goodness. Relief washed over me. “ Do you have any idea what this tree represents in the world of werewolves?” He arched his brows. “ I'm sure you must have heard about it” I nodded confidently.”Moonbark oak tree” My lips shivered. “Good” Nicholas gave me credit. “ Do you know its significance?” He asked and I narrowed my eyes to the trees, scanning it studiously. I have heard a lot about the tree; how mystical it was in the world of the werewolves.

They hated everyone who was associated with my father; they made sure to get rid of them. A few minutes into my walk, my eyes suddenly caught something under the apple tree in the orchard, the one Luna Jane would normally spend all her days under. I thought I thought it was an animal, a fox, or even a bear, but the moonlight made my wolf sight sharper in the dark. I saw a dark figure, looking like a man, but when I moved closer, I saw that two people were standing under this tree.

Looking up, it was impossible to even see the sky because of the tall and robust trees. Lucas was somewhere in the front, leading his pack. Clifford was ahead of the allies, while Selena was guiding her pack. There was a lot of excitement and nervousness around, but they tried to stay positive. They were all fighting for something they believed in, so it was worth it. After long minutes of walking, the group sensed that the North Forest was a few steps ahead, but there was still no sign of Shane and his pack. Selena even thought that the information they got was wrong. He couldn't be there. There was no sign of human lives or wolves.