Under Oak Tree Novels & Stories

I sat down on my seat, waiting even if I knew I'd had to wait way longer than just some minutes. All of a sudden all I saw was black, I didn't know everything could be over in just seconds, I wouldn't have thought that everything could be over this quick, but one thing I knew was, I couldn't give up, I have to be there for Kehna. I tried recovering strength by breathing in and breathing out but it didn't help. I continued repeating the same sentence "I can't give up" breath in breath out "I can't give up" breath in breath out, I just wanted to rest and close my eyes for some seconds.

“It’s not possible,” Mac said quietly, standing at the edge of Hope’s garden, looking at the small oak sapling with its cluster of pale, impossible blossoms. “Oaks don’t flower in October. They barely flower at all in the traditional sense. Something else must be growing through it.”

In the center stood a giant, ancient oak tree, its branches spreading out like protective arms. "It has a high-tech security system, a gated community, and a twenty-four-hour patrol," Cole listed off the specs, his businessman persona momentarily shielding his vulnerability. "But look at the backyard, Sabrina. Really look at it." "The tree," I whispered, tracing the lines of the oak with my thumb.

Its sprawling branches offered ample shade and a natural, enchanting setting for the couple's union. He called out to his loyal men, a group of trusted friends and staff members, instructing them with a warm and confident voice, "Let's set up the canopy right here, under the oak tree. Make sure it's beautifully adorned with flowers and drapes, creating a magical atmosphere for Elena and me." The men, all too eager to contribute to this special day, swiftly got to work, transforming the area under the oak tree into a fairytale-like wedding setting. They adorned the canopy with cascading flowers of various hues, adding an ethereal touch to the surroundings.

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."

I smile and refocus on the path in front of me. I quickly arrive in front of a large oak tree and, using momentum, I start climbing it until I reach the uppermost branches. I look down and see some shadows moving natural ones. I took a deep breath and started to focus my energy, imagining it dissipating, starting to stick to the branches and leaves of the oak.

“The tree stands as a human being, in other words, it explains the inner self of a person, the part which wants to remain hidden. You must have noticed the strong branches and the frail barks in the body. It means the strong branches are our outer self, that we use in our every day to day lives, to show others. But the barks, they are frail and rotting away, because of all the effort it goes through to hold the branches ahead. We never know, but the fake self that we display to the outside world, often ruins who we are in the inside, so that’s what this means. And the leaves? They just play the part to make it look more triggering.” I nod and turn pages after page. Half the book is taken ov

“He hasn’t released me.” “He will.” The certainty in her tone leaves no room for doubt. “What if he never does?” Her head tilts slightly. “He will.” Silence hums between us. “Where?...Where can i find you?” I ask. The clearing shifts. The trees blur and rearrange. The vision expands outward like a map unfurling. I see forest stretching westward denser, darker. A narrow trail barely visible beneath overgrowth. A river cutting through stone. Then a massive oak tree. Its trunk is split clean down the center, blackened along the jagged seam as if lightning once struck it from sky to root. The top half leans precariously but still lives, branches heavy with leaves.

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?”

“CIARA JOY!” If I can’t see her, then I don’t hear her. I thought to myself in a sing-song voice as I reclined cross-legged with my head resting back against the trunk of one of my favorite hiding spots in the woods. Nestled on the east edge of the border of our pack’s land is my favorite oak tree, with thick, wide branches stretching out in all directions high above the rest of the woods. My oak tree also has the most magnificent views of the mountains and surrounding woods which also border on two sides of the Crystal Lake waters. “Miss Ciara Joy Callaway, you better not be up some tree again, or so help me. Goddess. I will tell Alpha Radar and your father you are flapping about again!”