Under The Oak Tree Novel 272 Novels & Stories

Colton looks like he wants to walk into a tree. I shake my head, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “You two are terrible at lying.” Oakley beams. “Thank you.” “That wasn’t a compliment,” I say. “It felt like one,” he replies. Colton exhales slowly. “Let’s just… move on. The orchard is this way.” Oakley nods quickly. “Yes. Orchard. Trees. Fruit. No mysterious healer prophecies there.” Colton mutters, “Hopefully.”

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?”

Leonardo provided. "The oak tree in the midst of the pines," Hazel muttered as a memory flashed in her mind at those words. After a few minutes of pondering, her eyes widened as she realized what the clue was. "It's the oak tree in the middle of the large pine field, horses' hooves printed on the soaked ground on a rainy day, blood-red moon. The earth has been hurt, or is Mother Moon mourning for her dead children?" she began. "While many sleep, the earth weeps. What a sorrowful night. As the unknown enemy works in the darkness of the night. Under the large oak tree lies the secret to her salvation. But then again, it also holds the power to her damnation."

Delaney "Cursey," I hear Trevor Whittle say in a sing-song voice. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" Laughter follows his words. I remain hidden behind the huge oak tree and desperately try to catch my breath without making a sound. I breathe shakily behind the hand I placed over my own mouth while my heart slams against my chest.

Large ancient oak trees worked as astute wardens, encircling the field and providing a sense of protection and obscurity, as well as a nice area for any creatures to rest undisturbed but yet dangerous. His cap snagged on branches as he soared past the oak tree, darting around the birch trees' delicate black and white trunks. He came to a complete stop a meter away from the oak, but they were nowhere to be found. He took a cautious tour around the tree, his little feet stumbling over the awkward roots. He secretly hoped they were simply hiding, ready to burst forth with laughter and startle him. He shuddered. Obligichaun looked again, but the forest was empty.

"Something for the future." The room was quiet. Theo closed the catalog. "Okay," he said. "Let's plant a tree." They ordered the tree that afternoon. An oak. A small one. It would come in a box. Theo thought that was very funny. Caspian didn't. They planted it a week later. In the yard. Near the stump. In the spot where the old oak had been. Mathilde dug the hole. Caspian put the tree in. Theo filled the hole with dirt. James watered it. Gerald watched. The chickens watched. The rooster watched.

I’m below a tree, an oak tree. The realization sends a shot of sobering adrenaline through me, and my mind emerges from the haze—it’s not just any oak tree. It’s our oak tree! I’m laying at the tunnel entrance, but how did I get here? Who brought me here? Why am I naked? Why can’t I move?

His stories brought laughter, sometimes tears, but each one was a testament to the life we'd once known, and the life we were trying to rebuild. As the sky began to adopt hues of twilight, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Zane stopped at a small clearing. In its center stood a massive oak tree, its branches stretched out like welcoming arms. He motioned for us to sit at its base, our backs resting against the sturdy trunk. Taking a deep breath, Zane began,

It was the ancient grove. It was the exact same clearing where Cullen and I had shared our true mate run months ago, long before the war with Bronson had consumed our lives. The massive, ancient oak tree stood in the center of the grove, its thick, bare branches reaching up toward the gray winter sky. The snow covering the ground was completely untouched, smooth and perfect. Cullen stopped in the center of the clearing, directly beneath the sweeping branches of the ancient oak. He turned to face me. The playful, relaxed energy he had carried on the walk up the mountain suddenly vanished, replaced by a deep, profound intensity that made the true mate bond in my chest flare brilliantly.

;Maia was reading a book under the tree in the backyard of the pack house. She has been there for almost half an hour, enjoying the wind and the sun. She has no plan to mess with the big bad wolf today because she was so sure that Oakley was not going to do her condition and he's probably irritated at her because of what she has done yesterday.