Under The Oak Tree Chapter 107 Novels & Stories

The morning air should have been sweet. It should have tasted like the promise of a new life. But as the sun rose over the First Den, the sky took on a dull, metallic sheen. The golden wheat fields were no longer dancing. They stood still, as if they were afraid to move. In the center of the valley, the Great Oak Tree stood tall. Its leaves were a deep, vibrant violet, pulsing with the soft rhythm of Kaima’s heartbeat. She was the wind. She was the soil. Every breath the wolves took was a gift from her.

hummed in her chest. “No” trembled in her head. But her feet answered for her, moving before she could talk herself out of it. They walked behind the shed toward the quiet path that led to the row of old oak trees. The sounds of volunteers softened behind them until there was nothing but the rustle of leaves and the crunch of gravel under their steps. They stopped beneath the largest oak, the one that towered over the rest like a guardian. Jaxon shoved his hands in his pockets the same habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it.

The hum spiked, runes glowing brighter, snow swirling, a warning of ambush. Kevin nodded, amber eyes sharp, pine scent a vow, moving to the oaks, claws extending, scraping bark, frost falling, revealing more runes, glowing, pulsing. Shade snarled, wary. Guard her, pup—clear it. “Oaks are carved deep,” he called, voice low, “runes everywhere—connected.” His claws dug, blood seeping, metallic, hot, hum shaking his bones.

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: THR CHAIN BY FLEETWOOD MAC Rhea's pov: The firelight is flickering in uneven patterns, painting Lucien’s face in shadows that look sharper than they should. His jaw look so tense, and every few seconds, his eyes flick to the tree line like he’s expecting Varein to step out again. I’m sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, my hands curled around the mug Kaia handed me earlier. The steam is curling upward, catching the dim light, but my fingers still feel cold.

The time I was wasting. Evans was still out there. I straightened and stepped over the unconscious outlaws, looking around. I noticed it then. A tree. In the center of the clearing, there was a single, enormous oak. The wood underneath was scarred with something that made my stomach turn, and its bark was split. Blood. Not merely splashed. Not merely smeared. **Sculpted.** Three sharp, deep phrases that seemed to have been sunk like inhuman claws into the wood.

She is clinging to the bark, her body shaking violently. I run to the base of the trunk. Betty. Let go of the branch. I force the words straight into her mind through the link. She shakes her head, her teeth chattering so hard I can hear them from the ground. Trust me, Betty. Drop. She releases her grip by an inch. The ground gives another massive shudder, and the oak tree bends completely in half, its highest leaves brushing against my shoulders. Betty slides down the smooth bark, her body falling straight into my front paws.

How many times had they put themselves in danger while I was too focused on war plans and elder meetings to notice? I stayed far enough back that they wouldn't hear me. Close enough to intervene if something went wrong. The trees grew thicker. The light grew dimmer. Shadows stretched long and dark across the forest floor. Still, the children kept running. Finally, they stopped. A massive oak tree loomed ahead. Ancient and gnarled. Its roots twisted up from the ground like frozen snakes. Its branches spread wide, blocking out what little remained of the evening sky. Carl and Karin dropped to their knees beneath it.

“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.

MAXINE We made our way to the old oak tree near the lake. The moon was hanging low in the sky. It cast a pale glow on the water. I could see the massive oak tree in the distance, its branches twisting like fingers. This was where it was all going to end. We reached the base of the tree. The ground beneath our feet is uneven and covered in fallen leaves. Mr. Grayson pulled out the scroll from the small box containing the last piece. He brought the other pieces from his bag one after the other.

Chapter 113: The orange tree. Ike entered his two-acre enclosed garden and scanned for the queen. Shay's typically regal form sat hunched on the bench under his orange tree. The glass ceiling of the yard was being pelted with rain as she wept softly. Ike paused as he considered what to say to the only mother figure he'd had in his life.