Read Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

I needed to locate a safe haven as soon as possible… I came across an oak tree with a branch that was low enough for me to climb. Without thinking, I hopped onto the limb, landing on my belly. The burn from the bark scraped my skin causing me to wince; I bit my tongue to prevent myself from yelling. Uneven tree husks tugged on the top of my underwear as I rushed to pull myself up any branch strong enough to support my weight. I continued climbing almost to the top of the tree, where any branch higher would surely break. Content with the last branch, I sat down and curled my legs into the fetal position; hiding behind the trunk of the tree as I attempted to lower my chances of getting noticed

Their sprawling branches danced gracefully to the tunes of the nocturnal breeze, casting playful, shifting shadows on the ground below, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and darkness. Within the heart of this verdant sanctuary, Silas had pinpointed a location revered by his kind and known intimately only to a handful of werewolves: a serene clearing, protected and encircled by venerable oak trees. These mighty oaks, having braved countless storms and witnessed numerous cycles of life and death, bore the marks of time on their gnarled barks. If one paid close attention, it felt as if these trees whispered sagas of bygone eras, their hushed voices carrying tales of valor, love, and betraya

Standing in the place, Callum and I look at the tree. The words "This isn't over," inscribed into the bark, throbs in my thoughts like a horrible premonition. I'm convinced Callum can hear the beating of my heart in my chest. I can't take my eyes off the message; it appears to be mocking us and demanding that we take action.

Golden, warm sunlight that didn’t scorch, that didn’t burn the skin, a very clear weather that made everything brighter… clearer, and a warm breeze that cooled them even in the warmth, such a contrasting paradox, she knew, but that was exactly what it was. When she saw the large oak tree, she just knew that they’d be lunching under its numerous branches, and she told him her thoughts. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” He shot her an amused grin. “Well, I did tell you I hated surprises, so that’s what you get for trying to swing one over my head anyway.” She shot right back with a smirk of her own. A mat had already been laid under the huge tree, with their lunch spread out, more than one mea

" He reached into his rags and pulled out a handful of dust. It wasn't gray dust. It was red. Rust-colored. He blew it up the shaft. "Go," he whispered. "Blight the roots. Starve the Stone." THE BLIGHT MAYA’S P.O.V. I sat in the branches of the Great Oak the Martha Tree on the porch of the farmhouse ruins (now a shrine in the middle of the city). I was listening to the roots. Usually, the roots sang. They hummed with water and nitrogen and life. Tonight, they were screaming. Thirst. Thirst. Thirst.

He offered his wide hand, “Let me help you.” “I can help myself.” I stood, and shook off the dirt off my skirt. He just shrugged, “Okay.” He continued and went under the oak. It was only a bit higher than Gabriel, but taller for me that I was able to raise my head high and see its perfect oddity. Its shrunken trunk and all that was connected to it had perfect shade of homey brown and its foliage was thick, but there were spaces that allowed rays of sunshine to pass through it.

The oak tree was older than the Hale fortune, its branches gnarled and thick, stretching over the stone wall like reaching fingers. I didn’t think about the physics of it. I didn’t think about the silk-blend sweater or the way the rough bark bit into my palms, scraping away the "pampered" layer of my skin to reveal the girl underneath who used to climb fire escapes to get to the roof of her apartment. I shoved my foot into a notch in the trunk, my breath hitching as a sharp pain bloomed in my side. Not now, I thought, pressing a hand to my stomach. Just a little further.

Rowan said, pointing through the trees. Kael rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "We stay together." Nobody argued. We followed the sound. The forest changed as we walked. The pines gave way to older trees. Their branches spread so wide that the sunlight barely reached the ground. The air smelled of wildflowers. Then... I saw it. An oak tree. Its trunk split into two before reaching the branches. The same tree from my mother's drawing. "The orchard," Elias whispered. No one moved.

He said pointing towards an oak tree, with large shades. They didn't respond and closed the door, Morgan, just like he said, went and sat on the metallic bench, under the tree. ****** Olivia sat on one of the chairs in the room, Cherry was already asleep on her laps, after crying several times for mother. Old Gilbert was also fast asleep, his breath heavy and unsteady as his features were extremely pale, showing the extent of his sickness.