Under The Oak Tree Novel 273 Novels & Stories

“It’s no problem. I’d like for you to come. I feel like you’re owed something from New Glade, anyway, for getting hurt in my territory.” “Oh, I don’t blame anyone for that. I’m clumsy.” I rise so quickly, I almost knock him in the chin with my forehead, which shows me just how close we were to each other. It was much closer than I realized, and now I’m too warm. Much, much too warm. Damn near tingling. He rises, too, and before I can step past him, his hand is resting on my upper arm. “Oakley,” he says, and my name is like sugar when he says it. “Did something…. You asked if you were alone in the forest that night. I don’t think you were. Do you remember anything from before you ended up in

"I have my eyes on you" I scoffed. What is it with this witch? Her eyes on me? I can't believe her gut. But then again, what does Jo's mean. "I know what happens beneath The Oak." The compound was popularly known as The Oak. We have the Lady of the oak who was Sumaya, as well as the princes of the Oak. The servants and the slaves of the Oak who were also known as the Oak's commodity. But how could anyone claim to know what happens beneath The Oak? It sounds absurd. Especially the fact that their couldn't be anything beneath the plantation or the numerous chambers.

“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.

Amelia's POV As I made my way through the forest, the familiar sight of the towering oak tree greeted me like an old friend. Its gnarled branches reached out to me, casting dappled shadows upon the forest floor as if beckoning me closer. With each step, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet echoed through the tranquil air, a comforting melody that soothed my restless soul. The canopy above filtered the sunlight into a dappled mosaic of light and shadow, casting a sense of enchantment over the secluded grove where the ancient oak stood sentinel.

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.

CHAPTER 3 He led me across the lawn towards a large oak tree. My toes sunk into the soft loam of the yard, feeling the lush grass caressing my toes as I walked naked towards the tree. The boughs of the aged giant swayed across the sky as though trying to sweep the clouds away so that it could be reunited with the sun once again. “Hug the tree, slut. Your body needs to be tightly pressed against it, and your legs need to be spread.”

Birds and cricket songs are replaced by total silence, we can even hear the twigs and branches breaking underneath our legs as we walk on them. I can hear Owen's heavy breaths, even his hard swallowing. The air suddenly changes, when we get to a small opening after the thickets. There are seven tall trees, taller than the rest, which surround an old cabin. It practically looks deserted. The trees look so strange and peculiar. I have been to the woods before, but I have never come across such trees. I walk slowly towards the cabin, Owen is one step ahead of me and his hand is wrapped protectively around my waist.

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.

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.

I am not worried about getting lost, I know the place like the back of my hand. When I reach the forest, I take in a deep breath and let it out before continuing to walk. It does not take me very long to reach the giant oak tree. It even has my initials that I carved into it the first time I ran here to get away from everyone and everything. The almost full moon sits in the sky and gives the night an eerie feel. I sit right under the tree with my back laid against the trunk. The ground is dirty but I gladly rest my legs on it.