Tree Of Smoke Book Review Novels & Stories

Then slowly—he raises a lit cigarette to his lips again, pulling in smoke like a damn movie villain. White, cloudy vapor floods my vision, choking me in the process. My eyes sting as I squint through the haze, waving my hands to clear the air. I cough. “Is this training over now? Because I’d love to get away from you and your fucking smoke.” “You don’t look like you want to leave,” he says airily, blowing his stupid smoke that's probably going to give him lung cancer—off in another direction. Just his voice and that damn smoke curling around us—it’s a storm cloud waiting to break.

Our place backed onto what was basically a private forest, my favorite place to think. The second the canopy of trees closed over me, some of the tightness in my chest eased. The scent of pine and damp earth was a hell of a lot better than the scent of my father’s disappointment. I stopped by a tree and fumbled in my jacket pocket for my emergency pack. I’m not a smoker, not really. But sometimes, when the world gets too damn loud and angry, you need a little toxic cloud of your own to hide in for a minute. I lit a cigarette, took a long, dragging puff, and tried to will the hate out of my system. Hate for Derek. Hate for Gerald. Hate for the whole messed-up situation.

“Mother kept a diary, and she mentioned a Deagal quite often. I don’t know exactly what role he played, but I figured if anyone could figure it out, it would be you.” She handed me the small leatherbound book, a tree scorched into it. I lifted it to my nose, smelling the smoky, earthy smell. The paper smelled old and mildewed, the ink, rotten. “I don’t know. It smells old. I don’t know if I should even be handling this the way I am.” I flipped the book to look at the spine. “It has so much potential. I’ll look at it, but I’m not going to promise anything, and I really need my nap first.”

Karla's Pov Alpha Darwin. He was here already. “You're not saying anything? Well, you're smarter than I thought you were, what a pity for you that you could not escape very soon, isn't that it?” Darwin ‘tsked’, puffing out more smoke. My lips trembled as tell tale signs of tears and smoke began to make my eyes burn. The smoke was too much, and I couldn't breathe. Although my body had already begun to fight off the effects of the smoke, it was coming in faster than I could fight it. And just from one cigarette? That couldn't be possible. There had to be other places that the drug was burning from, it was coming from all directions.

Or perhaps… It had been summoned. His consciousness drifted slowly through thick black smoke, each step echoing as if he were walking inside an empty world’s heartbeat. The earth beneath his feet felt wrong. It was warm, but not with life — it pulsed like a wounded creature struggling to stay conscious. Charred roots twisted beneath the surface like veins, stretching and wrapping around invisible bones of ancient land. Trees towered overhead, vast and skeletal. Their bark was black and cracked open, glowing faintly from within, as if something hot and living hid inside their hollow forms. No leaves. No birds. No air movement.

Ember Frost’s POV The fire crackled loudly as it devoured the trees, sending waves of heat across the snowy ground. Thick smoke rolled into the sky while the sharp scent of burning wood drifted through the air. Most people would only smell smoke and ash. But to me, there was something else hidden in that air. Something sweeter. Something… tempting. Underneath the heavy smell of fire, another scent lingered, soft but impossible to ignore. It reminded me of warm honey and fresh meat at the same time, rich and full of energy. The kind of scent that made the power inside me stir with excitement.

Smoke curls like serpents through the roots. The Blue Woods—its beauty is a trap. It doesn’t burn. It explodes. The trees are rich with volatile oils that vaporize in heat—igniting with violent bursts instead of steady flame. The bark is dry as bone, leaving no damp to slow the blaze. And beneath, trapped gases churn under the roots, waiting for a spark. Together, they birth a monster— a chain of fire and air, of dry veins and burning breath. We can feel it—the ticking beneath us.

I clasp it shut and place it around my neck, tucking it under my top just as I hear the sound of the rooftop door being broken down. I glance back towards the doorway to see that a fire has ignited at the base of the tree, engulfing the deadly plant in flames. The men push their way through the doorway, caught off guard by the burning fire but as the smoke from the tree begins to intensify I see the men begin to stumble, the sounds of their coughing and choking reaching me as I see them rub and clutch their eyes in pain. “My eyes! My eyes!” One cries out, much to my satisfaction.

I closed my eyes and just absorbed the moment wanting to remember it. Suddenly the sounds of paws hitting the forest floor overwhelmed me. Then in a flash, the forest was ignited with flames. Everything glowed vibrant oranges and reds as heavy smoke smothered me from above. I threw myself to the ground, desperate for any trace of clean air. As I attempted to crawl out of the flowers, new sounds began to harmonize; screams, howls, and cries for help terrorized me.

Chapter 4: First Light, First Command Dawn creeps through the oak’s hidden seams in thin silver threads. I wake with the book still open across my chest, pages pressed to my skin like cold fingers. My dreams were full of smoke and silver eyes watching from the dark—no faces, just the sense of being measured. Judged. Found… acceptable. The vibrations have stopped. No boots. No war-horns. Just the low, steady pulse of the tree itself—roots drinking deep, leaves whispering secrets to the wind I can’t hear. For the first time since the contract, the silence feels almost peaceful. Almost.