Read Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

The girl I put through ten years of school stood up at her own graduation and thanked me in front of everyone. A second later, three translucent lines appeared in front of my eyes. [She will steal the Prescott family's trade secrets, start her own company, and turn on you.] [She will publish an essay and put the internet on your family. Your wife will die of a heart attack.] [Prescott Logistics will fold. The estate will go to auction. You will die in front of the men you owe.] I stared at her. "Vanessa. Have you spent all these years filing away everything we did for you as a reason to hate us?" She blinked at me, wide-eyed and innocent. That was when I understood. The snake was al

About the oak tree in August and the specific quality of the afternoon light coming through the full canopy and the way it falls on the sidewalk below in broken pieces, all warmth and abundance, the tree is at its most generous, giving everything it has. I pick up my charcoal from the cup on the counter. Open my sketchbook. Draw while he talks. The oak tree in August afternoon light, seen through Edmund's eyes on a porch in the Tremé, was rendered in my hand in a penthouse in Manhattan. Three times removed from the original. Still true. We tell our fathers on the same day, not together, but separately. But the same day, which feels right, both of them learn on the same Thursday that somethin

- 24 - Out in the woods, deep in the forest, where the trees get so dense that the undergrowth has never been touched by the rays of the sun, there, beneath the roots of an ancient oak tree, lies a mound covered by a thick layer of dried leaves. Hidden among the ancient roots is a small opening. At first glance, one might think it’s just a small burrow, a lair where bears spend their winter, but looks can be deceiving, particularly when enchantment is at work.

‘It’s working. I opened my eyes and the oak tree filled out. The grass regenerated. The branches straightened out and reached for the sky. The cries of pain turned to orchestras of jubilation. ‘You actually did it.’ Orion folded his arms over his chest. A cocky grin plastered on his face. ‘You sound so surprised.’

He lunged for my hand. The Oak moved first. One of its dead branches, thick as a man’s leg, creaked and dropped fast between us, slamming into the ground right at his knees, kicking up dead leaves in a violent spray. Kaden scrambled back, terrified. No, a voice said. Not Mara’s. Deeper. Older. The tree itself, vibrating up through my feet, through my hair, through the mark on my neck. No second mark in my circle. Mara nodded, like this was expected.

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.

I am the same old me". Linking her arm in mine, we walked down the hallway. Then, finally, it was time for the ritual. The air was cool in Briarwood as we made our way to the sacred Oak Tree. Millions of stars were sprinkled over the black velvet sky, some large but most tiny pinpricks. The moon loomed largely, full and yellow, glowing, lighting the way for the wolves who gathered beneath it—their howls echoing through the night.

Jake As I stood in the center of the clearing, the cool, crisp scent of the surrounding pine trees enveloped me, their fragrance mixing with the earthy undertones of damp soil. The towering pines formed a natural shade, their thick trunks stretching skyward like ancient sentinels. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced on the forest floor.

KARIN The ancient oak tree at the center of the Nightfall Pack grounds had stood for more than three hundred years. Its thick trunk was wide and uneven, carved by lightning, claws, and long-forgotten battles. I pressed my palm against the rough bark. It scratched my skin, solid and real. Beneath it, I felt the slow, steady movement of life. This tree had watched leaders rise, rule, and fall. It had seen loyalty turn into betrayal. It had seen hope fail and return again.

There she was. Sat on a bench alone under an oak tree. There were three or four students loitered in Freedom park, most of the students must have gone home. A lot of oak trees were planted in this park that gave comforting shade to the students. Birds chirped transferring from one tree to another. Some of the trees were planted for almost a hundred years now. Orange clouds now appeared in the sky and the grayness of the area was illuminated faintly with the lamp posts.