The Trellis And The Vine Novels & Stories

Kendrick nudged the curtain of vines aside and ducked slightly under the rock arch. When Twillow fluttered outside her eyes widened. It was like a completely different world just beyond the exit of his mountain home. It was a garden but of unreal proportions. Lined neatly together in clusters Twillow could see berry bushes of all kinds, corn stalks as tall as trees, tomato plants that formed veritable jungles as they twisted together, squash plants with leaves bigger than the roof of a house, and a veritable cornucopia of other garden vegetables and fruits. Kendrick approached the towering corn stalks and felt one of the ears growing there. He shook his head and checked another. The next one

The harsh crack the frail fallen limb issued, seeming to linger amidst the stoic conifers of the forest. Tilla’s gaze drifted naturally upwards to observe the tempestuous gray clouds that lingered just above their pointed tops. Her attention, arrested again by the land, as she felt a pull on the fabric of her skirt. Tilla let out an exasperated exhalation as she looked down to discover that yet another devious cluster of vines had entangled their pointed hooks into the cloth of her cumbersome attire. Wrenching her hem away from the determined thorns, who had taken it upon themselves to contort their thin lengthy growths into differing gnarled forms in order to intertwine around her feet. Ti

But he kissed me still. I held on to him, like I believe I would hold on to dear life now. Because he is my treasure. My husband. My miracle. A miracle as unexpected as November Rain.

Probably my neck. Don't think about it. I climbed over the balcony railing, my hands gripping the cold metal. The ledge was narrower than it looked. I put one foot on it. Then the other. My body pressed against the wall, my fingers finding cracks in the stone to grip. Don't look down. Keep your eyes forward. Just move. I slid my foot along the ledge. Inch by inch. The wind picked up, and I froze. Don't stop. Keep moving. Another step. Then another.

Every step grounded her, reminded her of her body, of gravity, of the simple truth that she was still human enough to need motion. She reached the observation deck overlooking the inner valley just as the first light crept over the horizon. Pale gray shifted into muted gold. The world continued, indifferent to meetings and power and locks buried beneath stone. That helped. “You’re up early.” Elara turned. Phoenix stood a few steps back, arms loose at her sides, hair pulled back. She looked more solid lately. Less like an echo. “Didn’t sleep,” Elara said. “Neither did I,” Phoenix replied. “The lock was restless.”

The vines pulsed, reacting to the strain, tightening, loosening, tightening again. “Again,” Lyra gasped. They pulled harder. The vines shuddered, creaked, then… Snap. Lyra’s wrists flew apart, the sudden freedom sending her stumbling forward. She caught herself on her knees, breath shaking. Talia twisted around, eyes wide. “Lyra.” “I’m fine,” Lyra lied, though her arms burned. “Hold still.” Her fingers trembled as she reached for Talia’s bindings. The vines pulsed angrily beneath her touch, tightening around Talia’s wrists as if sensing the threat. Lyra dug her nails in, tearing at the living cords. They resisted, writhing like something alive.

Four heads turned with arched brows as he stumbled in. Tessa—a tomboy, always in cargo pants, leaned against a locker with her arms crossed. Beside her, Ewan and Emma (both his age and night-shift runners like him) exchanged glances. Then there was Alex, his closest friend who went to the same college as him, sitting in the corner chair and scrolling through his phone. He was the last to look up.

And Ainara, trembling yet resolute, gave in to the love she had tried so hard to deny. ** The morning light filtered softly through Ainara’s bedroom curtains. Andres stirred, his arm draped across Ainara’s waist, the sheet barely covering their bodies. For a fleeting moment, everything felt quiet, intimate — as if the world outside didn’t exist. But then the door creaked open. “Ai—” Celia’s voice froze mid-syllable. Standing at the doorway was Celia, her eyes wide, her hand trembling against the frame. Behind her, Jaime appeared, his expression hardening as he took in the sight before him: Andres and Ainara tangled together, half-hidden under the sheet.

The sky above the coastal vineyard was the kind that poets wrote about soft, endless, and full of promise. Lanterns swayed in the gentle breeze, glowing gold and ivory among the trellises of wildflowers and roses. A white aisle stretched down the center of the garden, lined with velvet chairs filled with friends, pack elders, and family. It was a day long in the making.